by Wendy Vella
“I have promised to keep your secret safe. Having said that, I still believe you should tell Nick about your house and shop, Beth. He would applaud you, not censure you.”
“Perhaps.”
“Who are these children and why are you walking with them?” Leo decided on a change of subject.
She huffed out a breath, which was something, he realized she did often, he’d just never paid attention before.
“They are my butler’s children. His wife passed away last year. I take them out with me sometimes.”
“That’s very kind of you.”
“You make it sound like I do not know how to be kind.”
“I wonder how I managed that when I only said, ‘that was very kind of you’?” He gave her a smile; she, however, was focused on the children. “They are fine, Beth, rest easy.”
She looked beautiful as she always did, but something was not quite right. Why he thought this Leo was unsure, but still, it niggled at him.
“Is your aunt unwell?”
“No, as I have stated, it is merely the extra visits from well-wishers that has me out of sorts.”
He grimaced. “I shall call it off today if that is your wish?”
“It is not. But it is most annoying that now women, and some men, are paying me calls simply because I have managed to catch the hand of one of London’s most eligible bachelors.”
“Thank you.”
“It was not a compliment!”
“I stand corrected.”
“Do not make fun of me, my lord. I am in no mood for it.”
He looked down at her, studying the profile she presented him, the sweep of her long black lashes and arch of a feathered brow. Her cheeks were a soft line and her skin smooth and creamy. Small nose, and pink lips. His eyes lingered on that mouth, remembering how it had felt beneath his a few days ago. A curl had settled on one shoulder, and he resisted the urge to tweak it. He was suddenly very aware of this woman, and Leo realized she was beginning to disturb him, which was odd, considering he’d not been able to stand the sight of her before.
Chapter Twelve
Beth was not a person who lived on her nerves, in fact she loathed women who constantly bemoaned the state of their health, but right at that moment she could sympathize. She did not need the large nobleman at her side asking questions when she could not give him answers, and the act of pretending all was right in her world was fatiguing.
Four days had passed, and in that time she had watched and waited, and yet no other note had arrived. Was she to be blackmailed, or simply tormented? Was he back in London, and if so should she be very afraid? Was he a threat just to her, or what of Nick and Grace?
She had gone over and over the entire situation countless times, but could not come up with a satisfactory resolution.
“Is that frown simply because I am keeping you company?”
“You think too much of yourself.” Beth dismissed Lord Vereton’s words.
“Very possibly, but I like to have a woman’s attention when she walks with me, and yours is far from here, is my guess.”
“Ah, but I did not request your company, Lord Vereton, therefore you will have to put up with what you see.”
“A quick-witted woman is both a delight and trial, it has to be noted,” he drawled.
“But then surely you have been outwitted many times, my lord?” Beth thought if she sparred verbally with him, as she always had, he would not continue to ask her what was wrong. Because he may tell Nick, and that would be disastrous.
“You really are an onerous woman, Miss Whitlow. To jab at me constantly with your extremely sharp verbal lance, and I... a mere defenseless male who wishes only to bask in your beauty.”
Beth’s snort turned into a yawn before she could stop it.
“I feared for a moment there you would displace your jaw. Do you wish to ride the horse too? I could help you up there, and you can rest a while.”
“Very amusing.”
“So you help those vulnerable young women, and today you are out walking your butler’s children to the bakery. There seems to be another side to you, Miss Whitlow, that I was not aware of. Will I find you in a tenement tomorrow?”
“Not all of us wish to be indolent noblemen, Lord Vereton. Some are very aware of those who go without—”
“And you believe I am one of them... an indolent nobleman?”
The words had been spoken calmly, but Beth heard the anger beneath each.
“I don’t know you, how can I form any opinion of your character, other than what I have seen?” Although she had seen him rescue that boy, so perhaps, like her, there was a great deal more to Lord Vereton than she first thought.
“Just as I believed you an annoying, snooty woman who had little but an acid tongue to recommend her.”
Beth found herself laughing, which was surprising as minutes before she’d had little to laugh about.
“Touché.”
“You did not attend the Bledisloe soiree last night, Beth. Is your chill better, as I believe Nick told me that was the excuse you gave.”
“It was not an excuse, and I did have a chill, but now am better,” she lied. Truth be told, she was not ready to face him or society.
They walked a few more steps, and Beth saw the bakery, much to her relief.
“Do not take up lying as an occupation, you will not earn a penny.”
She felt his eyes on her, but as they now stood at the bakery door, he soon looked away.
The scents were enticing as she and Leo walked inside, the air redolent with sweet spices, and the baking of bread.
“Good morning to you.”
“Good morning, Mr. Renn. I shall have four currant buns, and two gingerbread men, please.”
“And I shall have ten currant buns.”
“Who are you purchasing those items for?”
Leo gave her a smile that made something flutter in her stomach.
“Actually I could eat the lot, but I am visiting friends, and shall allow them one each.”
Once they were outside again, Beth handed over a bun each to Joseph and Amanda, and a gingerbread man to Scarlet.
“Well, good day to you, my lord. We are to return to the house now.”
“I shall walk with you,” he said, already eating one of the buns.
“We have no wish to delay you.”
“You will not. I have no fixed time for my arrival.”
“But surely you have no wish to walk all the way to my house?”
“It is a fifteen-minute walk at best, Beth. I fear it shall not tax me overly.”
He gave her a smile that told Beth he knew exactly what he was doing, annoying her with his continued insistence that he keep company with them.
“Just go, Leo,” Beth said, exasperated.
“No, and I like it when you call me Leo, by the way.”
Before she could stop him, he’d lifted the children onto his horse once more, and started back the way they had come.
“Are you coming?” He looked over his shoulder to where she still stood.
She wanted to shake her head and say no, but it would be childish to do so, even if right at that moment she felt just that. Raising her chin, she made herself join him, but this time she did not take his arm, as she was holding the food. Thankfully.
They walked, he conversed, she listened, and found herself relaxing slightly. At least if she walked with him, she was safe. A strange thought, but for a few brief moments she could let her worries go and simply breathe. No one would harm her with Leo at her side.
Looking around them, she recognized no faces, but had not thought she would, as it was too early for many to leave their beds.
Nibbling on her bun, she picked out a currant and enjoyed the sweet burst of flavor as she popped into her mouth.
“My sister used to do that.”
“Do what?” Beth looked at Leo.
“Pick out the currants before eating the bun.”
“
I have always done so, and it allows one to savor the bun, as it lasts longer.”
“I have another should you wish to consume it faster.”
“I’m sure you have more need of it than I.”
He didn’t reply, just took another large bite of his bun and made a humming noise that told her he was enjoying it.
Beth sucked on another currant and looked around her. She saw a man standing in a doorway; it was set back slightly from the shop’s façade. He stood with his face averted, and yet she was sure he was watching her. A trickle of fear slithered down her spine.
“What?”
“What?” She pulled her eyes away to look at Leo.
“You made a noise.”
“No, I didn’t.” Beth looked back at the man. He was still there, and still watching her, she was sure of it.
It couldn’t be him… could it? Had he come back? Why would he risk exposure? She started walking in his direction. The man had dark hair, but she could see little else as he was hunched in the shadows with his collar up. Surely that in itself was suspicious?
“Beth!”
The man turned away as Leo called her name. He threw a last look over his shoulder at her before he walked away.
“Beth, what is wrong?”
It was the hand on her shoulder that shook her out of her trance. With a last glance at the retreating figure, she looked up into the worried face of Lord Vereton.
“’Tis nothing, I just thought I saw someone.”
“You are the color of gruel. Don’t lie to me, there is something worrying you, and whoever you saw is connected.”
“No, it was not whom I had first believed. Now we must return to the children, they will be worried.”
He didn’t argue with her, but Beth knew he wanted to. She was grateful when he merely took her arm and led her back to his horse.
She didn’t look again, hoping the man had gone. She was certain he had been watching her... and equally certain that whoever he was, he meant her harm.
Chapter Thirteen
The premises on Night Street where he and the other Lords of Night Street ran their investigative service from was an innocuous gray building. Using his key to open the front door, he let himself inside with his mind still on Beth. Something was off with her... very off. He was sure she’d believed that man was a threat of some kind, but she’d denied it. Leo had been unable to follow whoever it was, as his first concern had been for her and the children.
The narrow hallway soon opened into a reception area that held chairs and a desk, behind which sat Perkins. He was their front man, the face of the Lords of Night Street Investigative Services.
“Good morning to you, Perkins. Would you care for a currant bun?”
The man wore round spectacles, and his appearance was always neat and calm, which was an asset when dealing with overwrought clients.
“Thank you, Lord Vereton, that is very kind of you, but I have eaten this morning already.”
“So have I, Perkins, but there is always room for more.”
The man smiled, and Leo guessed the conversation was over, so he moved deeper into the building. They had set up two rooms for clients in need of private consultation. He passed them, and opened another door that led downstairs. His friends’ voices greeted him as he reached the bottom.
“Hail, Noble!”
He lifted a hand by way of acknowledgement, and then placed the package of buns in the middle of the round table the other three men sat at. They pounced on it.
They were each noblemen, and had grown up together playing on estates. That was when they had decided upon their names they now used to work undercover.
Beth’s cousin, Nick, Earl of Attwood, was Gallant. Valiant, was Marcus, Viscount Needly. He was tallest of their group, with blond curls and bright blue eyes. Like Nick, he had a serious nature and was slow to anger. Lastly came Valorous, Jacob, Viscount Hatherton. With dark hair and green eyes, he was the gentlest among them, and appeared to have an inexhaustible supply of calm. Leo was Noble, although sometimes he struggled to live up to the name.
“I shall keep you on as a friend if you arrive with these more often, Leo.”
“I live to serve, Valorous.”
Between them they’d closed many cases, from kidnapping to blackmail. They had exposed noblemen who were intent on forcing innocent women into sexual slavery, and taken down a ring of Russian fraudsters. Trained by their country to spy and work behind enemy lines, those skills were now in use to help others.
“We have another case,” Nick said as he finished his last bite. “It seems there is another blackmailer at work in London society.”
“I think it likely there are a great deal more than one, but it is rare anyone actually speaks out about them,” Leo said, reaching for the last bun, just beating Marcus, who glared at him. Sighing, he broke it in half and threw it at his friend, who caught it smoothly, now smiling.
“True, but we can only deal with what is before us.”
“Which is?” Jacob asked.
Nick went on to outline the details while they all listened and discussed the matter, until all parties were clear on the direction the investigation would take.
“Right, now that is sorted, care to tell us how it is that Marcus and I arrive back from his hunting lodge to find you engaged to none other than Nick’s cousin? A woman, if memory serves, you usually argue with,” Jacob said.
“It’s a long story,” Leo said, looking at Nick, who replied with a shrug.
“Excellent, I shall tell Perkins to bring down the whiskey instead of tea.”
Leo did not have secrets from these men. They knew his good and bad traits, and the things he’d done he wished he hadn’t—and the same was true in reverse.
“The evil breaker of hearts is back,” Leo said.
“Harriet Hyndmarsh?” Jacob whistled. “What does that bitch want?”
“A husband is my guess,” Marcus replied. “And as Leo has all his teeth, and doesn’t lisp or spit up his food, I would also guess she has... or should I say, had, him in her sights.”
“Yes.” Leo exhaled. “I overreacted at the Tottingham ball, when she came up to me, and as Miss Whitlow was at my side and for once we were conversing as normal people do, I rashly said she was my fiancée.”
“It was not his finest moment,” Nick said.
“No, and I have caused a great deal of trouble for both you and Beth, and for that I am sorry, but—”
“Beth?” Nick said softly. “Since when is she Beth to you?”
“Since she became my betrothed.”
Speculation narrowed his friend’s eyes, but they didn’t appear annoyed; in fact to Leo they looked as if he had come to some kind of understanding, and why that unsettled him he had no idea.
“Ten days was all we were gone, and we left you in Nick’s care, and this is what happened.” Jacob tsked. “It’s a good match, it has to be noted.”
“No it isn’t!” Leo snapped. His necktie felt suddenly tight. “I’ve told you why it happened, and that I reacted to seeing the evil breaker of hearts without thinking. Don’t read anything else into it.”
“I’m not so sure,” Nick drawled, much to his horror. “It could be a good match.”
Leo stood and braced his hands on the table, glaring each of his friends to silence. Of course they merely smiled back at him, not the least intimidated.
“The betrothal will end with the season, and I will take full responsibility. I want to hear no more on the matter.”
“That’s still a few weeks away. A great deal can happen before then.” Marcus smiled up at him. “Besides, you’re the last of us to marry, and of course it is our fondest wish you do so, so you too can understand this wedded bliss we are all living.”
Leo growled softly, then picked up his half-eaten half bun, and threw it at Marcus, before storming from the room with the sound of his friends’ laughter following him. All thoughts of discussing his concerns about Beth with her co
usin had fled.
Chapter Fourteen
Beth walked into the Brookvale reading with Grace and Nick. She loathed and detested these nights, being forced to sit on a hard chair while some bore read poetry in a terrible voice. Not that she disliked poetry, far from it, but it was all in the delivery.
“You look lovely, Beth, but tired. Is something wrong?”
“No indeed, just as you say, weary.” She smiled at her cousin’s wife, trying to appear as she always did.
So different from the woman she had first encountered on the day of their wedding, Grace had blossomed in her marriage to Nick. Then, she had been timid, badly dressed, and scared of the life she was now forced to live. All that had soon changed.
“And you, Grace. I did not want to start a discussion with Nick near about your health,” Beth said, shooting her cousin a look. “But now he’s talking to someone else, I can ask how you are feeling?”
“He is quite tiresome in his protectiveness.” Grace sighed. “But I cannot take him to task as he gets so hurt.”
The Countess of Attwood wore cream with emerald trim. Thick lace covered a satin underskirt, the dress was loose at the front, falling from the bodice, and Beth could barely see signs of her pregnancy. Her hair was in a soft style, an emerald bow at the back, and she looked beautiful.
“It is gratifying to see my cousin brought to his knees by the prospect of his first progeny, Grace. But I will thank you not to tell him that.”
“I always find it amusing how much siblings and cousins enjoy seeing each other brought low by something.” Grace laughed. “Nothing serious,” she added, “but there is usually great delight in it.”
“Having no siblings or cousins close, you have yet to experience it. Also there is the fact Nick and I have not always been close, so allow me this now that we are.”
“Of course, and secretly I am enjoying him being off-balance also. The mighty earl is humbled by the thought of his unborn child.”
“I think it fair to say it is not just the prospect of the child, Grace; there is also the fact that he worries about you.”