Though she knew Noelle’s idea was absurd, the thought of attending a ball caused a stir of intrigue inside Eva. She’d never attended a party, much less a ball the magnitude of the Pennington ball. Most of the newspapers called the yearly event the official start of the Season. Everyone who mattered would be there, polished to shine.
It was a world closed off to Eva and her ilk. If the Ton knew her history, they’d have her drawn and quartered.
She lifted her nose and frowned at Noelle. “No one will believe such an outlandish story. No, I will not attend, no matter how deeply you scowl. If there is even a small chance of discovery, well, I cannot risk it.”
Slippered footfalls moved back and forth as Noelle began to pace. Eva’s stomach tightened. She understood enough now about her sister to know that Noelle didn’t like to be told no. She had a determined look in her eyes that worried Eva. She braced herself for a fight.
“Who besides the housekeeper and Harold know about your mother’s history?” Noelle asked.
“No one.”
More pacing. Her hands became very animated when she was plotting something. Eva wondered if anyone had ever told her no and lived to tell.
Noelle stopped and spun to face Eva. “Then how could anyone find out? Your mother has virtually vanished from this earth, and it’s been more than ten years since she was seen publicly on Father’s arm.” Noelle stopped, and her eyes brightened. “You will spend the weekend with me at the town house so your position as my visiting cousin will be established and accepted. Then you will disappear back into the northern wilds as quickly as you appeared, with none the wiser.” She danced about as if she had just invented a cure for the plague. “It is brilliant.”
Eva knew her chances of escaping the plot were thin. And spending time in her father’s London home would be glorious. She’d always hidden herself, tucked away; lingering outside the bright light of society and his legitimate family. To spend time surrounded by his things would make her feel close to him again.
“What of the current earl?”
Noelle smiled. “Uncle Arthur is in India studying plants and birds. If he had his druthers, he’d never return to England. His man of affairs pays the bills, and Mother oversees everything else. The staff aside, we will have the house to ourselves.”
Though everything inside her knew she was standing in front of a speeding coach, Eva could no longer summon the will to throw her body from the path and save herself. Her long-squelched sense of adventure wouldn’t allow it. She’d just have to pray for good luck.
“There will be hundreds of guests,” Eva managed weakly, her will crumbling. “Perhaps I’d be lost in the crush and spend the evening unnoticed if I wear something plain . . .” She let her voice trail off as Noelle’s shriek damaged her hearing. For a Lady, her sister didn’t always act as a proper blue blood should. Eva ought to give her a copy of Lady Watersham’s book to read when she wasn’t plotting mischief.
“I have just the gown for you, Eva. I bought it yesterday.”
Eva glowered. “You were awfully certain I would agree to this madness, sister.” She took one look in Noelle’s bright eyes, and her stomach dropped to her toes.
After Noelle took off for home to see to the gown, Eva carefully portioned out part of Father’s monthly stipend to Cook for supplies and to pay the small staff. She set aside a handful of shillings and a few other coins from her school earnings, what she could afford, to make a modest payment to His Grace. It would take years to settle the debts, but she couldn’t face the prospect of owing him forever. The weight of the financial burden was bearable if she reminded herself that one day, she’d be free of him.
She’d met with the investigator, Mister Crawford, and made a visit to Cheapside. The women were now as worried about Yvette as she was, and Eva assured them she had hired someone to look for the missing woman.
Pauline had wrung her hands. “I think she’s in danger, Miss Eva.” She refused to meet Eva’s eyes and examined the tips of her slippers. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I know she’s in danger.”
Eva was startled, and the women all stared at the buxom blonde. Her bottom lip quivered. Pauline seemed on the brink of an emotional breakdown. “Have you a reason to believe so, Pauline?”
The courtesan nodded slowly, and tears welled in her eyes. “The night she left, when everyone else was asleep, I stumbled into her in the hallway upstairs. She was wearing her cloak and carrying a small satchel.” Pauline sniffed and dabbed an eye with her knuckle. “It was after midnight.”
Eva handed her a handkerchief. “Where was she going?”
Pauline blew her nose. “She swore me not to tell. But under the circumstances, I must.” She sucked in a ragged breath. “She wanted some things from her town house. Her lover was very generous after the beatings. Every time he hurt her, he’d buy her a trinket to assuage his guilt. She’d somehow heard he was at his country home for the rest of the month. She believed it would be safe to return if she slipped in and out unnoticed.”
“Oh, Pauline,” Eva said. Her heart twisted, and she put a hand over it. “You should have told me right away.”
The girl sobbed quietly into her hands. Rose circled an arm around her shoulder and looked hopelessly at Eva.
Eva lifted her eyes to Harold, who stood in the doorway, his face grim. She took no comfort in his expression. He was as concerned as they all were. She wanted to send him off to pummel the mysterious lover, but had no clues to who he was or where to find him.
She suspected the situation was dire. If Yvette had been misinformed and her protector discovered her sneaking around the town house, there was no telling what he might do to his runaway courtesan.
“I never noticed any bruises,” Abigail said softly and turned her gaze on Harold. There were gray smudges under her eyes as she seemed to silently beg him for help. Worry over Yvette had taken a toll on her, on all the women.
Sophie nodded. “I once had a lover who was rough. I never saw any signs of it on Yvette. If not for our shared confidences, I’d never have known.”
“None of us suspected,” Eva said. She turned back to Harold. If only he had been notified of Yvette’s dangerous plan immediately, he could have stopped her. “Harold, is it truly possible this lover has kidnapped her?”
He crossed his arms and shrugged. “I haven’t heard anything. If she’s being held somewhere in London, gossip will find its way to me.”
In all the time she’d known Harold, Eva had never once questioned his loyalty or asked him for information about his past. Now, as she looked into his hard expression, she wondered if she should have used more vigilance when she accepted this man so willingly into her life. It was easy to forget that some men had darkness in their souls that could be deadly when they were crossed; a darkness that was hidden until it was too late.
Still, even now, when she saw cold anger etched into his features, she knew he’d never hurt her and her courtesans. The man who’d kidnapped and possibly killed Yvette was the one in danger. Harold took his position as their protector seriously. If anyone dared hurt one of his flock, he’d see them punished.
That was what worried Eva.
“I’m afraid when we do find her, there will be little we can do against the culprit,” Abigail said simply. She turned away from Harold. “There are different rules for those with a title and those without. Even if he murdered her, if her lover is high-ranking, he will not be punished. His friends will do what they can to cover up the crime. No one will care about a dead courtesan.”
The bitterness in Abigail’s voice shocked Eva. She wondered about the young woman’s history. Truthfully, Eva knew nothing about her, about any of the women, really. Just a few tidbits of shared information casually dropped into conversation. Eva rarely became close to any of her charges. Once they left her care, they began new lives and put their pasts behind them. And Eva was part of those pasts.
Abigail had kept to herself and followed her instructions withou
t complaint. Eva often wondered how the quiet beauty had become a courtesan and if her anger at noblemen came from experience. Whenever one of the other women had pressed for details of her life, she’d quietly changed the topic.
“It’s true, Miss Eva,” Sophie said. “I once knew a girl who was the lover of Lord Applegate. She vanished without word to anyone. There were rumors he’d killed her in a jealous fit after he caught her speaking with another man. There was a brief investigation, then the matter was dropped. To this day, she is still missing.”
Eva wanted to dispute the outlandish charges. However, there was truth in it all. Men like His Grace had to be caught strangling someone in the center of Grosvenor Square, in front of a hundred witnesses, before any justice would be meted out.
A grim prospect indeed.
Eva looked at her charges, and there was deep worry on all faces. Though the five courtesans were not all friends, they’d developed a bond over the last several weeks while working toward a common goal. Now, one was missing and they wanted to know the truth.
“We must all hope for Yvette’s safety,” Eva said. She had to distract them. “My, ah, friend assures me the investigator is excellent in his profession. He will find her.” Eva knew just how competent Mister Crawford was. He’d flushed out most of her secrets. When he was finished, Mister Crawford would know what kind of jam Yvette ate on her toast and what her favorite perfume was. If she had come to harm, they would know soon. “Why don’t we go out into the garden, ladies, and have tea? It is a lovely day.”
Do you really think Yvette is alive?” Harold asked hours later when they arrived home. He took Eva’s cloak and hung it on a peg by the door. Sounds filtered from the kitchen, where the evening meal was being cooked, and the scent of cinnamon drifted through the household. Eva took no comfort from the familiar sounds and smells. The day had been exceedingly trying.
The speculation about Yvette’s fate had not been squelched by her attempts to get the women focused on other topics. There was a constant undercurrent of apprehension lingering in all of them. Until Yvette’s fate was established, there would be no peace for anyone.
Eva lifted her face to his. A common concern over the missing courtesan had given them a brief and tenuous truce today. Still, she knew Harold hadn’t gotten over his displeasure with her. His frustration still simmered beneath his stoic surface.
“I don’t know.” She turned and led him to the parlor. “My greatest hope is to find her well. However, I am worried. If her protector is a violent man, he may have punished her for trying to leave him. I fear the depths of his anger.”
Pulling off her bonnet and the pins from of her hair, she removed the wig and spectacles and set both on a low table. Harold crouched and banked the fire. The glow of the flames took away some of her chill as she moved to the settee and settled on its overstuffed cushions. In her home, she normally felt safe from the ills of the city outside its walls.
If not for her father’s generosity, she could well have ended up like Yvette, like any of her courtesans. But the press of disaster always lingered now, with His Grace holding her debts over her head. These walls had been breached time and again, and she could not build them high enough to keep His Grace out of her life.
“I am to blame for this,” Harold said, and stood. “Had I been vigilant, she would not have gone off alone.”
“How were you to know of her plans?” Eva protested. “You cannot be with our courtesans constantly. They must make their own decisions. Even had you suspected anything, she would have found a way to sneak off. You couldn’t chain her to her bed.”
“If I wasn’t occupied with other matters,” he said simply, “I would have spent more time with the women and sensed something untoward.”
He didn’t accuse her directly, but the implication weighed on her shoulders. In his opinion, if not for her relationship with His Grace, Harold might have thwarted Yvette’s escape.
Tiny hairs prickled the back of her neck. “You will not blame me for what has happened.” She couldn’t believe Harold could be so cruel. Hurt filled her. This could not be just about whom she bedded. There was a deeper reason for his cutting anger. Something she could not see. “Yvette is responsible for sneaking out in the middle of the night.”
“She became involved with a man she mistakenly hoped would protect and care for her as she aged,” Harold countered sharply. “She saw his wealth and his title, and her defenses disappeared. She didn’t see his cruelty until it was too late. Now she might be dead.”
“Our situations are not the same,” Eva cried. “She was forced into her life by circumstances she could not overcome. His Grace is not a cruel man, and he does not own me.”
“What of His Grace?” Harold asked sharply. He leaned against the mantel and glowered. “What will he do once he tires of you, Eva? Will he throw you out of this house? If he calls in the notes, and you cannot pay, will debtors’ prison be your next address?”
“His Grace has promised Mother will always have a home here,” she snapped. Frustration sent burning bile up the back of her throat. “He will not break his word.”
“You know him so well?” he sneered.
Truthfully, she knew almost nothing about the duke. The doubts Harold had raised were similar to the doubts keeping her awake most nights. Her future had become tenuous, confused. Though she believed Nicholas would treat her mother well, his plans for her were less clear. What kind of man was he really? How well did she know him outside of his bed?
When she took a moment to look at those around her—Harold, Noelle, His Grace, the courtesans—she was surrounded by strangers. What did she know about any of them?
She jutted out her chin and refused to succumb to tears. Never had she felt so adrift, without arms to pull her back into the boat. If only she’d allowed herself to get close to others as she grew up. Then she wouldn’t feel so alone now.
“It is not your concern, Harold.”
“Not my concern?” He shook his head slowly as anger flushed his face. “It worries me every day that you and your mother could be left destitute on the whims of that man you bed. Has he made you any promises? Will he wed you?” At her silence, he threw up his hands. “I have sacrificed to watch over you, Eva, and you say it is not my concern?”
Sacrificed? Eva felt her resolve slip. She had never thought he might have a family, a profession he’d given up to stay with her and be her companion. Still, she had never asked him to sacrifice for her. Whatever he’d given up was of his free will.
Harold was her friend, as much as he could be, but he was still her employee. Now she wasn’t so sure which Harold she wished him to be. As a friend, he felt free to express his opinions. As an employee, he’d crossed into dangerous territory where His Grace was concerned.
She’d chosen to become the duke’s lover. Though she’d broken their tie, His Grace still had the power to force her back to his bed, though he had not yet done so. Was he plotting another seductive attack on her eager body? Could she ever be sure of his intentions?
If Harold did anything to jeopardize the tenuous relationship between her and the duke, he could cause them all irreparable harm.
She would send Harold on his way before she would risk her mother’s health and situation. “I don’t expect you to understand my reasons, Harold. They are my own.” She stood and faced him. “However, you need to remember this. You talk of sacrifices. I, too, have sacrificed. I have my work and I have my mother and I have you. I do not go to parties, I do not socialize. I have never had, nor will I ever have, a suitor who brings me flowers and asks me to take drives in the park. So if I allow myself a few stolen moments of pleasure in the arms of a man, you of all people should understand.”
Eva did not wait for his comment. She squared her shoulders and walked stiffly away.
Harold watched her disappear and felt her hurt. Guilt kept him from following her. From the day he’d come to London and begun watching over Eva, he had left everything i
n his life behind. Oddly, the trio of footpads who had beaten him and stolen his purse had done him a service.
He’d had to find a way into her household without rousing suspicion, and his injuries had done that. And she’d never questioned him about his previous life. She’d simply cared for him until he was fit and then offered him a position in her household.
What had begun as a simple business agreement had grown into something deeper. He’d truly come to care for Eva and Charlotte. They were the family he’d lost. And he hated to see her lose any chance of happiness by giving herself to the duke, a man who would use and discard her. Yet, he knew how painfully lonely she was. If only she’d chosen a man who would love and care for her forever. Then he’d not begrudge her even one moment of happiness.
Harold knew he should sound a warning, but worried about the consequences of confiding all of Eva’s secrets. He’d already betrayed her, though she didn’t suspect it. Once he made his report, his part in this deceit would be finished and he’d be free to return home. It was the tangled threads of betrayal, and saying good-bye, that would be more difficult to settle in his already beleaguered conscience.
When the investigation of Miss Winfield had been proposed, he’d tried to refuse. But he was living in desperate straits with his coffers empty. An offer was made for a chance to live comfortably, in exchange for a few months’ work. Before he realized what was happening, he was dressed as a footman and in a coach on his way to London.
No. He would keep this to himself, for now. Eva was in no real danger, and a broken heart was survivable. Not that his employer cared what happened to Eva or her mother.
Harold winced. He cared.
Knowing Eva as he did, her heart was already engaged. She had given the man her innocence. She couldn’t separate her mind and body, though she might convince herself she could. One day soon, when the duke turned her out, she would crumble.
The School for Brides Page 14