Olivia and the Masked Duke

by Grace Callaway

  “Alas, since your dance card was full, I had to make do with substitutes,” he said.

  After a moment, she wrinkled her nose. “Does that flummery work with ladies?”

  The strange tension dissipated. He hid a smile. “Usually. But they are not as clever as you.”

  “As Mama likes to say, clever is as clever does,” she muttered. “Which makes me singularly stupid at times.”

  “Why do you say that? Having trouble with an anagram?”

  He went over to her, glancing down at the table just as her hands went to cover the letters. It was too late, however. The hairs on his nape stirred at what he saw spelled out:

  FALLING IN LOVE.

  Her cheeks rosy, she said, “I was playing around. It’s just a stupid game.”

  Who in blazes is she thinking about? Ben wondered.

  She’d been surrounded by a herd of young bucks this evening, but no one of note. No one that Ben would deem worthy of her. The idea of Livy throwing herself away on some lordling or frivolous fop roused his protective instincts.

  “Take it from me: love is not a game,” he said firmly. “And should never be treated as such.”

  She stared at him, chewing on her bottom lip. He burned to know what she was thinking about. Hopefully not some undeserving bastard.

  She sighed. “I don’t think I’m ready for love quite yet.”

  For some reason, he felt like a prisoner who’d been issued a stay of execution.

  He strove for a lighter tone. “You aren’t missing much anyway. May I?”

  She moved aside so that he could fiddle with the letters, rearranging them. When he was done, she laughed in her old, carefree way, and he smiled at her, savoring the moment…and his rather clever reordering of the letters in FALLING IN LOVE:

  FILLING A NOVEL.

  Present Day

  Livy woke from a deep sleep. As the vestiges of a marvelous dream fell away, she saw a dark shape at the foot of her bed, limned by the rosy glow of the hearth. The night returned to her in a flash of pure joy. It hadn’t been a dream.

  Ben was here, and he’d made love to her. Made her his. Afterward, he’d cuddled her, and she’d drifted off to his whispers of love.

  It was still dark out, and she felt a frisson of unease at his posture, which conveyed that he was deep in thought. In her experience, nighttime rumination was rarely a good thing. She pushed aside the blankets, moving over to him. He turned, the stark set of his features softening. When he held out an arm to her, she got under it, snuggling into his warmth. He’d thrown on his shirt without buttoning it, and she savored the contact with his rippling muscles.

  She could hardly believe that this magnificent male was hers. She felt giddy and a wee bit smug. But mostly, she was grateful to Fate for giving her what she’d always longed for: her soul mate.

  He slanted her a look. “How are you feeling?”

  “I feel wonderful.”

  At her prompt reply, his lips twitched. “You are not sore?”

  She ran her mind over the part in question. “Perhaps a little. But in a good way…like after vigorous exercise.”

  “I hope I wasn’t too vigorous.” Grooves formed around his mouth, and the shadows in his eyes confirmed that she had been right about his somber mood. “It was your first time, Livy, and I should have been gentler.”

  “I loved every moment of being with you,” she said with emphasis. “If you were any gentler, I would have complained.”

  “Well, we couldn’t have that.” Despite his light reply, his demeanor remained serious.

  Hesitantly, she asked, “You don’t regret making love to me…do you?”

  If he did, she couldn’t bear it. Her bubble of giddiness burst, and she suddenly felt young and unsure. At the time, giving her virginity to the man she loved had felt right…but now the enormity of what had transpired washed over her in an unsettling wave.

  “God, no.” He curled a finger beneath her chin, making her meet his gaze. “Livy, being with you…I cannot tell you how special it is. How special you are to me. If I regret anything, it is that I did not treat you with the respect you deserve. What happened between us should have taken place on our wedding night, not after I’d spent the night…”

  He drew his brows together, and she finally understood. Relief filled her that he didn’t regret making love to her; he felt guilty about the Hellfire Club. She wished she could tell him that she knew about Cherise Foxton and understood why he’d done what he’d done, but she had to talk to Charlie first.

  If I have to keep up the pretense to protect the man I love, I will, she vowed.

  “Did you have a bad night?” she ventured.

  He gave a tight nod. “It was bloody awful. It reminded me of who I used to be, and I…I am ashamed of that man. He is not good enough for you.”

  “You are not that man any longer. You’ve changed,” she argued. “And it doesn’t matter anyway because I love the man that you’ve always been when you’re with me. I love your strength, your good heart, the way you protect me and order me around.”

  Wonder glittered in his gaze.

  Clearing his throat, he said, “Like being ordered around, do you?”

  “Only when we’re making love,” she clarified. “In bed, I do not mind being the novice. In life, however, I want us to be partners.”

  “You are not the only novice, you know.”

  She tilted her head.

  “It is true that I have more experience in bedroom matters than you. But when it comes to love, real love, the kind that owns and completes you, that perseveres and never fails…” He tucked a tress behind her ear, his knuckles brushing tenderly against her cheek. “It turns out that I am a novice too.”

  33

  Later that afternoon, Livy convened with Charlie and the other Angels in the study. Charlie was sitting at her desk, the Angels clustered in the chairs on the other side. They were discussing the information Charlie’s surveillance had yielded last night.

  “Stamford may be the weakest link,” Charlie said. “He was not at the club last eve, and Edgecombe, Thorne, and Bollinger seem to think he has developed cold feet. They whispered amongst themselves that one of Stamford’s clients, a rising opera singer, died a few days ago.”

  “Because of the Devil’s Bliss?” Livy asked with a shudder.

  Charlie nodded. “Edgecombe, Thorne, and Bollinger did not admit it, of course. Greed is the North Star of their moral compass, and they’ve convinced themselves that it is not the drug that is the killer, but some ‘unfortunate predisposition’ possessed by their dead clients.”

  “They are blaming the victims?” Glory said in appalled tones.

  “Rather convenient for them,” Fiona remarked. “Should we approach Stamford?”

  “We could, but he will likely not tell us much.” Charlie looked at Livy.

  Before leaving this morning, Ben had given Livy a brief summary of what he’d learned, and she shared it now with the group.

  “When I, um, was with Hadleigh last night,” Livy said, fighting back a blush, “he told me that the Horsemen are afraid of Fong and treat him like some all-knowing deity. Longmere’s death served as a warning, and I doubt Stamford would dare to betray Fong.”

  Fi tilted her head. “Was Hadleigh able to discover how the supply of Devil’s Bliss is delivered to the group?”

  “There hasn’t been a delivery since he’s been back in the fold.” Livy chewed on her lip, her worry for Ben surfacing. “He says he has not yet won the men’s trust. They are tolerating him because he knows too much, but they are keeping their secrets.”

  A knock interrupted them. It was Hawker.

  Charlie tilted her head. “Yes, what is it?”

  “A guest has arrived, my lady.” The butler’s gaze shifted to Livy. “Mrs. Beatrice Murray.”

  “I hope the others will not think me rude for requesting a moment alone with you,” Aunt Bea said.

  “My friends are not easily offende
d,” Livy assured her. “Why don’t you tell me what is on your mind, Aunt Bea?”

  She could tell something was bothering her aunt-in-name-only. Aunt Bea shared Ben’s exceptional looks, hers being a fair and feminine version. She was tall, willowy, and elegantly attired in a mauve carriage dress that was a perfect foil for her white-gold hair and lavender eyes that, at present, were shadowed with concern. Her smile had an edge of tautness, as did the delicate pink scar that curved over her right cheek.

  “You were always perceptive, even as a little girl,” Aunt Bea said ruefully. “I shan’t shilly-shally: I am concerned about my brother and hope you can help.”

  Perhaps Livy oughtn’t have been surprised but, like Ben, Aunt Bea was private by nature. What could bring her to ask for help…and from Livy, no less?

  Does she know about me and Ben? Livy thought with a frisson of worry.

  She and Ben had planned to keep their relationship under wraps until Fong was captured. Even then, Ben was concerned about how others might react…in particular, her papa. Livy had reassured him that her family adored him and, even if they were surprised at first, they would come around. She hadn’t considered how Ben’s family—namely Aunt Bea—might take to the news.

  She was very fond of Aunt Bea and hoped the other would support the match. It would take some getting used to, but she thought it would be lovely to have Aunt Bea as a sister-in-law.

  Thus, Livy asked with care, “How can I help?”

  “I know you and Hadleigh share a special bond. Ever since that time he came to your aid.” Aunt Bea’s smile was wistful. “He told me once that rescuing you was the one good deed he’d done in his life.”

  Livy had to defend him. “Hadleigh is a good man with a brave and noble heart.”

  “That is why he likes you so much. You are more of a loyal sister to him than I ever was,” Aunt Bea said somberly. “I have not supported my younger brother as I ought to have.”

  Livy felt her cheeks burn. Of course, she couldn’t tell Aunt Bea that her feelings for Ben were far from sisterly. At the same time, she heard the regret in Bea’s voice and recalled what Ben had said about the distance between him and his sister. How he’d caused it by his foolish and reckless pursuit of vengeance on Bea’s behalf.

  “Hadleigh does not blame you,” Livy said, wanting to help heal the breach. “On the contrary, he holds himself responsible for the estrangement.”

  Aunt Bea looked startled. “He has spoken to you about our relationship?”

  Botheration. Livy wanted to kick herself for giving too much away.

  “Um, not exactly. But I know Hadleigh, and he is a man of honor who tends to take responsibility for things,” she said awkwardly.

  Bea studied her with lavender eyes that were a little too perceptive.

  “You understand him well,” Bea said at length, “and that is the reason why I came to you. When I arrived in town yesterday, I saw Mrs. Garrity. Out of concern, she told me the recent gossip about Hadleigh. Even if she hadn’t told me, I would have seen it: it is in all the scandal rags.”

  “You cannot believe everything you read and hear,” Livy said quickly.

  How she wished she could tell Aunt Bea the truth behind Ben’s behavior. But doing so would compromise his mission. And she knew for a fact that he would not want his sister involved in that dangerous business.

  “I saw Hadleigh with my own eyes when I paid a call upon him this morning,” Aunt Bea said flatly. “He looked like he hadn’t slept all night. And there were signs that he…he has reverted to some of his old behaviors. You are too young to understand, Livy, but while my brother has good intentions, his actions have not always reflected that.”

  Livy could hardly tell Aunt Bea that Ben looked tired because he’d been up most of the night making love to her. As for the other “signs,” Ben had admitted that he had been drinking with the Horsemen. Thus far, he’d avoided taking opium and the Devil’s Bliss; he felt he couldn’t convince his old cronies that he’d reverted to a life of sin if he was a teetotaler as well.

  Livy knew the week had taken a toll on Ben, stirring up the demons from his past. His voice echoed in her head: It reminded me of who I used to be, and I am ashamed of that man. He is not good enough for you. She prayed that his undertaking would be over soon so that they could have a fresh start. She wanted to take care of him and lavish him with love.

  She also needed to tell him the truth and beg his forgiveness for her deception.

  “Did you tell Hadleigh your concerns when you visited?” Livy asked.

  A frown marred Bea’s brow. “I asked him what was going on, but he would not talk to me. To be honest, I am not surprised. He and I have been dancing around each other these years past, and we Wodehouses have never been good at discussing our feelings. Nor showing them, in truth.” She reached into her reticule, taking out a handkerchief and dabbing her eyes. “For a long time, I believed that my brother was a destructive force, and I cut him out of my life. Then I met Mr. Murray, and he convinced me that Hadleigh had changed and was deserving of another chance.

  “I allowed Hadleigh back into my life, but I always kept my distance. I was afraid to be hurt again,” Bea said, her voice hitching. “In spite of the bad blood between us, he is my kin, and I…I do care about him.”

  Livy’s heart hurt for Aunt Bea…and for Ben, too. She vowed that, once the business with Fong was over, she would do whatever she could to help them mend fences.

  As her mama oft said, “Where there is love, there is a way.”

  “He loves you too, Aunt Bea,” Livy said. “And while he might not seem himself of late, I am certain there is a good reason. You can trust him not to repeat the mistakes of his past.”

  “Even if I trusted him, I cannot trust the band of rakehells who have drawn him back into their fold.” Bea’s lips formed a hyphen of disapproval. “Edgecombe, Thorne, and Bollinger were a bad influence years ago; from what I gather, they are even worse now. My brother’s loyalty has always been his greatest strength and weakness. If it hadn’t been for Arabella’s influence…” She shook her head. “I will not speak ill of the dead. But I will say that in recent months, I have seen Hadleigh show the promise of the man he could be. If those scoundrels compromise his progress, draw him into their depraved world again, I vow I will give them a piece of my mind.”

  With gnawing unease, Livy observed the determined angle of Aunt Bea’s chin. It took one to know one, which was how she knew Bea was as strong-willed as they came. And the last thing Ben needed right now was for his sister to get involved.

  “You won’t interfere, will you?” Livy said desperately. “I do not think that is what Ben needs right now.”

  Aunt Bea’s eyebrows shot up. “Ben?”

  Botheration again.

  “Hadleigh, I mean.” Livy’s face flamed. “Since he is, after all, a grown man, I think it is best to trust his judgement.”

  A pause. “Is there something you are not telling me, Livy?”

  That Ben is infiltrating a drug enterprise? That I’m protecting him while participating in a secret investigative agency? That you and I may soon be related?

  Livy shook her head lamely.

  “Well, I hope you are right about trusting Hadleigh.” Aunt Bea heaved out a breath, her eyes worried. “Because my brother has a history of being his own worst enemy.”

  34

  After Aunt Bea’s departure, Livy acted on her instincts and scribbled a brief note to Ben. Knowing discretion was paramount, she kept the message as brief and free of particulars as possible.

  Your sister paid me a visit. She is concerned and may try to help, even though I tried to dissuade her. I thought you should know.

  Instead of signing her name, Livy drew a little crown. She hoped that Ben would receive it before he headed off for a planned night of revelry at Bollinger’s.

  Shortly after Livy sent the note, a mudlark arrived. The girl, who didn’t look a day over thirteen, introduced herself as �
��Fair Molly.” She had a dirt-smudged cap crammed over her profusion of curly hair, and her amber eyes sparkled with intelligence as she relayed the message from the leader of her group.

  “We found the scene in the picture. The Prince o’ Larks says I’m to take you lot there personally.” Her little chest puffed up with pride. “Since I’m the leader o’ the team wot found the spot.”

  “We are much obliged to you, Fair Molly,” Charlie said.

  The sun was dipping into the horizon by the time they arrived in Limehouse. Here the squat brick buildings were crammed jowl to jowl, homes and businesses piled atop one another on the narrow streets. The dockside community was home to residents from all over the world, and they passed groups of Chinese, Lascar, and Spanish sailors talking in their native tongues.

  They arrived on a street on the banks of the Thames. Fair Molly pointed out the carriage window at a building; even though Longmere had painted it from the opposite side of the river, Livy recognized the structure, as well as the open field next to it. From the front, the small, shuttered edifice looked like it might have been a shop at some point, with a living area on the second floor.

  “A job well done,” Charlie said warmly. “Thank you, Fair Molly.”

  Fair Molly shrugged. “It were the old ropemaking field next to it wot pinpointed the location. Otherwise, it’d be like finding a needle in the ’aystack.” She opened the door, jumping down. Turning, she said, “I almost forgot. The Prince says to tell you this job is gratis.”

  Charlie frowned. “That is kind, but I am not in the habit of accepting favors.”

  “’E said you’d say that. ’E didn’t become the ’ead o’ the mudlarks from being stupid.” Fair Molly’s smile reflected her pride in her leader. “The Prince says it ain’t a favor if you’re doing somefing for ’im in return.”

  “And what am I expected to do for your prince, precisely?”

  “You’re to bring the villain wot killed that toff Longmere to justice.”