With Good Grace (Victorian Vigilantes Book 3)

by Wendy Soliman

  ‘I can tell from your expression that you made headway, Jake,’ Olivia said, finding her voice and a modicum of self-control as Jake took the chair across from hers.

  ‘Thank you, Parker.’ Jake took the glass his man handed to him, having first served Olivia. ‘Sit down yourself. I’ll get neck ache looking up at you.’

  Parker seated himself a short distance away from where Olivia and Jake faced one another on either side of the fire.

  ‘Have you ever heard of Miss Melanie DuBois, Olivia?’ Jake asked.

  Olivia wrinkled her brow. ‘The name is familiar but I cannot seem to—’

  ‘She is Madame Céleste’s right-hand woman.’

  ‘Ah yes, I recall now. Very organised, with sharp features and a tongue to match.’

  Jake smiled. ‘Your memory serves you well. She has been with Madame since she was seventeen and has made herself indispensable over the years. It is she who saw me at the theatre.’

  Olivia shared an amused glance with Parker. ‘Even your formidable reputation did not get you past Madame Céleste’s gatekeeper.’

  Jake sent Olivia a provocative look that implied she would atone for her levity when they were alone.

  ‘Miss DuBois and your late husband came to an understanding, Olivia.’

  ‘Nothing that Marcus did to further his ambitions would surprise me.’ Olivia nodded slowly. ‘Miss DuBois is a little shrew of a thing and I always thought that she enjoyed Madame Céleste’s favour not only because she was loyal and efficient, but also because she was no threat to the actress in terms of beauty and character.’

  Jake nodded his agreement. ‘Your husband had a good head for business; that has never been in dispute.’

  It was Olivia’s turn to nod. ‘Go on,’ she said when he paused to sip at his drink. She sensed he was attempting to find words that would not shock or offend her. She was tempted to remind him that she ceased to care what Marcus did a long time before he died. Jake’s compassion, his concern for her finer feelings, was another reason why she loved him as comprehensively as she did. Not that she would ever admit it, of course. She had already told him that she loved him and, despite the fact that their conversation had been interrupted, it hadn’t escaped her notice that he had been in no hurry to return the sentiment. Well, she had her pride and would not return to the subject. Her feelings for this complex, dutiful yet sensitive aristocrat was her cross to bear in solitude.

  ‘Your husband saw the changes in the theatrical world and its accessibility to the emerging middle classes as an opportunity.’ The deep, melodic timbre of Jake’s voice returned Olivia’s wandering attention to him. ‘He already had contacts and money to invest in new productions, thanks to his involvement with your brother in his import business.’

  ‘It seems odd that Marcus came out of that venture with full pockets and yet…well, you saw Rupert for yourself the other day and he is clearly in dun territory. He obviously cannot manage anything properly without Marcus’s guiding hand.’

  ‘There’s more competition in that area nowadays,’ Parker pointed out.

  ‘Very likely,’ Olivia agreed. ‘I’m sorry, Jake, I interrupted you. What were you saying?’

  ‘I was about to mention that Marcus was most likely not prepared to invest in productions unless there was as an above average possibility of their showing him a decent return. He saw an opportunity to manage some of the best emerging and established actors, have them take leading roles in the productions he was backing, and success was guaranteed for him on all fronts.’

  Parker nodded. ‘Their names drew the audiences, so the productions showed him a profit, plus he took a percentage of the actors’ income in return for managing their careers. Very astute. Even so, I’ll wager some of those big names didn’t want to be tied down to a manager with no track record.’

  ‘You are in the right of it,’ Jake replied. ‘And Grantley knew that. He also knew that there is almost always some sort of scandal behind every success story in the theatrical world and so—’

  ‘And so the meek, behind the scenes, administrator sees everything but is often overlooked.’ Olivia widened her eyes. ‘Marcus deliberately exploited Miss DuBois.’

  ‘For a man with his physical attributes it would be the work of a moment to persuade her.’

  ‘Sounds like Lord Torbay speaks from experience,’ Parker said, winking at Olivia and making her smile.

  Jake shook his head. ‘As I was saying, Miss DuBois was fiercely loyal to Madame Céleste, felt her talent was being thwarted because no one would risk backing her more avant-garde productions and wanted to help change that situation.’ Jake shifted his position, leaned one elbow on the arm of his chair and stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankle. ‘Your husband flattered her, seduced her, and for the first time in her life she had a priority other than Madame. Needless to say, Miss DuBois was then a slave to Marcus’s every wish.’

  ‘Poor Miss DuBois.’ Olivia sighed. ‘That was a very wicked thing for Marcus to do.’

  ‘She believed him when he said they would go off together when he had made enough money for them to live comfortably on, choosing to ignore the inconvenient fact that he already had a wife and child and so could not make an honest woman of her. She was still loyal to him after his death; until I explained what happened on the night Marcus died.’

  ‘That he took Miss Aspin in my bed.’ Olivia wrinkled her nose. ‘I suppose you had no choice but I feel very sorry that the poor, gullible girl having her illusions shattered.’

  ‘There was no choice, Olivia, but I have often heard it said that it is better to have loved and lost than…well, you understand, I feel sure.’ Jake sent her a significant look. ‘Suffice it to say that she was the one who supplied Marcus with the necessary information to persuade Miss Aspin and the others to join his agency.’

  ‘What did she have on them?’ Parker asked.

  ‘What did she not have?’ Jake shot Olivia an apologetic smile and spread his hands. ‘It’s all rather sordid, I’m afraid. Michael Danton, heartthrob and happily married man, actually prefers men.’

  Olivia’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Miss DuBois has proof?’

  ‘Apparently, one disgruntled lover wanted to make their affair public when Danton ended it. Danton had Miss DuBois pay him off and threaten him with dire consequences if he came back for more, or said a word to anyone.’

  ‘What a thing to have Miss DuBois do!’ Olivia cried indignantly.

  ‘That’s the theatre for you,’ Parker said wearily.

  ‘Quite so. Miss DuBois had the foresight to have the man sign a disclaimer, naming both parties, and kept it in her possession.’

  ‘The quiet ones are always the most dangerous,’ Parker said with a wry twist to his lips.

  ‘Your friend Miss Aspin—’

  ‘She is no friend of mine,’ Olivia replied with asperity.

  ‘She started life in the workhouse as Mary Brown and was convicted for picking pockets when she was a child.’

  ‘Was she indeed!’ Olivia chuckled. ‘I am sorry she had to live in the workhouse and not surprised that she turned to thievery. That one is a survivor. Still, it is not the worst thing that could have happened to her. You hear such stories about the abuses that go unpunished in those establishments.’

  ‘Having Danton and Aspin in his stable was sufficient to attract other big names,’ Jake explained.

  ‘I dare say,’ Olivia replied. ‘But where is the blackmail material now? We have not found it and have run out of places to look.’

  ‘Miss DuBois either does not know or is not saying.’

  ‘Which implies that she still holds it.’ A small smile shaped Olivia’s lips. ‘Not such a lamb to the slaughter after all. Perhaps she did not trust Marcus as implicitly as she implied, Jake.’

  Jake inclined his head. ‘The same possibility occurred to me.’

  ‘Do we know why all the actors stayed with Barber?’ Parker asked.

  J
ake executed an impossibly elegant one-shouldered shrug. ‘It has worked out well for them thus far. Perhaps they prefer not to rock that particular boat, or Miss DuBois wants them to remain where she still has control over which parts they take.’

  ‘Her loyalty to Madame has not waned,’ Olivia mused. ‘You seem to be right about that.’

  ‘Aw, lord save us, don’t be telling him he’s right.’ Parker threw up his hands. ‘We’ll never hear the end of it.’

  Jake ignored Parker’s frivolous remark and smiled at Olivia instead. ‘I am sorry you have had your worst fears confirmed about the father of your child’s character.’

  ‘I much prefer to know; much good it does us in our quest to find Sir Hubert.’ Olivia rested her chin on her clenched fist and sighed. ‘Do you suppose he knew what Marcus was doing?’

  ‘Miss DuBois says she had little contact with him, but I suspect he did know. We can safely assume he has not uncovered the material or he would have attempted to entice Miss Aspin et al away from Barber.’

  ‘He wouldn’t need to actually hold the evidence,’ Parker mused. ‘All he need do was drop a word or two in the right ear, repeating what was in it…’

  ‘Of course!’ Jake slapped his thigh, causing droplets of whiskey to fall on his trousers. ‘Why did I not think of that?’

  Parker grinned. ‘Well, what can I say…’

  ‘Sir Hubert probably knew that his brother held something over the principal actors; indeed I dare say he could not help boasting about it, in the strictest confidence, to his closest allies. But he was wily and most likely would not have revealed the precise nature of what he knew; not even to his own brother. When more than two people know a secret it is no longer a secret.’

  Olivia nodded. ‘Yes, Marcus always did play his cards close to his chest. So we must assume that Miss DuBois has actually kept the damaging evidence. There is nowhere else it could be.’

  ‘So,’ Parker said, standing. ‘We know how he did it but not where the evidence is, or where Sir Hubert is either.’

  ‘Even so, we are much further forward than we were this time yesterday,’ Jake replied calmly.

  ‘I’ll tell cook to serve dinner,’ Parker said, leaving the room.

  Jake remained seated opposite Olivia, sipping at his whiskey as his gaze rested contemplatively upon her face. He seemed comfortable with the silence but it made Olivia nervous, compelling her to speak.

  ‘What now?’ she asked.

  ‘We continue our search for Sir Hubert. That is all we ever intended to do and yet we have become side-tracked. Hopefully Lady Grantley will be able to tell us something about the missing paintings. That might lead us to him.’ Jake sent her an inquisitive look. ‘What is it?’ he asked. ‘You look pensive.’

  ‘It’s what Parker just said about not actually having to possess the evidence in order to profit from it. It made me wonder whether we should contact Lady Marchant and ask her if Hubert has been in touch with her, claiming to have possession of those letters. Just knowing that they exist and what devastating damage they could do to Lady Marchant would be enough to make her pay for his silence, I would imagine.’

  ‘True.’ Jake acknowledged the point by canting his head. ‘If he actually knows of their existence, which is far from certain. He might have been looking for his brother’s confidential papers regarding his illustrious clients.’

  Olivia exhaled slowly. ‘We know nothing, really,’ she said despondently. ‘It is all conjecture and supposition on our part.’

  ‘Marchant is twenty-five years his wife’s senior. It caused quite a stir when he married an actress one year to the day after the death of his first wife. His grown children, I understand, despise her and would love an opportunity to show their father that he has made a massive fool of himself.’

  ‘Lord Marchant is very rich, I believe.’

  ‘He is indeed. His four children are all wastrels who are dependent upon his generosity, so they have to mind what they say about his wife, with whom Marchant is besotted. But, if he even suspected that she had lain with another man, I don’t doubt that he would throw her to the wolves, especially if the graphic nature of the letters she wrote to your husband fell into the public domain. Marchant is very proud and would become a laughing stock because men of his ilk simply do not marry another man’s leftovers.’

  ‘Surely he would have known when…well, when he first took her to bed.’

  Jake chuckled. ‘A wily female could probably find a way to fake such a thing. I am sure I do not need to spell it out for you.’

  Actually he did, but Olivia thought it better to steer clear of that particular conversation.

  ‘Dinner is served,’ Parker said from the open doorway.

  ‘Come.’

  Jake stood and offered Olivia his arm. She placed her hand on it and they walked together into the small salon, where a table had been set for two in front of the window. Olivia was glad. That cavernous dining room would have been a ridiculously elaborate setting for the two of them. This was far more intimate. Had this been on Jake’s orders, or was it Parker’s work?

  Parker served them himself; the only servant in the room. Only now, he fell back on his training, refrained from joining in their conversation and was seen and not heard.

  ‘You have not eaten much,’ Jake remarked when the final course was removed. ‘Are you unwell?’

  ‘No, Jake, not unwell, but these stays are impossibly tight.’

  Jake laughed. ‘That is easily resolved.’ He stood and helped her up from her chair. ‘We shall be more comfortable in the other room.'

  Parker served them both with coffee, Jake with brandy, and then tactfully withdrew, closing the door quietly behind him.

  ‘And so,’ Jake said softly, saluting her with his brandy glass. ‘We are alone at last.’

  Olivia felt ridiculously nervous and wanted to make some witty aside. Nothing sprang to mind and so she remained silent.

  ‘What is it?’ he asked, leaning across the space that separated them and taking her hand. ‘You are as nervous as a kitten. I have never seen you nervous before. Upset, yes. Angry…many times, usually with me. Argumentative, stubborn, determined…all of those things. But never nervous.’

  ‘You make me nervous, Jake.’ She sent him a defiant look. ‘I do not know what it is that you want from me.’

  ‘Oh, Olivia.’ He shook his head, sending a dark lock of hair cascading across his forehead. ‘What would you have me say? What is it that you want to hear?’

  She looked away from him. ‘I don’t want to depend upon you, Jake, and yet you make it increasingly difficult for me to maintain my independence.’

  ‘I am not trying to control you, my sweet; merely keep you safe.’

  ‘And yet when I am alone with you, I feel as though I am in danger the entire time.’

  ‘You can trust me to behave.’ He chuckled. ‘Probably.’

  ‘What if I don’t want you to?’ Ye gods, did I just say that aloud?

  His head jerked back. ‘What are you suggesting?’

  ‘Oh fiddle-faddle, Jake, you know very well what I am saying.’ Olivia puffed air through her lips. ‘I had decided we would not have this conversation; not here, not now, perhaps not ever. But this latest evidence of my husband doing precisely as he pleased without a thought for the consequences, chasing his pleasures all over London and goodness knows how far beyond, has caused a change of heart. Unlike Marcus, I have behaved with decorum, yet I finished up becoming notorious, so I might as well live up to my reputation.’

  She paused to moisten her lips, a defiant tilt to her chin, even though she was conscious of her cheeks burning with embarrassment. Jake fixed her with a look of such deep intensity, his rich brown eyes shooting sparks of awareness as he waited for her to continue. Oh for the love of God; now was no time to go silent on her! He really was going to make her spell it out; the cad!

  ‘You are the only pleasure that I desire. The only man whom I would ever consider a
s a lover.’ She sent him a defiant look. ‘There. I have made the admission. It does not have to be complicated. We are here, we desire one another, and there need not be any more to it than that.’

  And there need not be. As always, Olivia had been over-analysing the situation when she ought to have allowed instinct to guide her. Jake continued to look at her with such deep longing in his eyes that her entire body responded with a violent tremble. He stood and in one fluid movement pulled her to her feet and into his arms.

  ‘You realise, I suppose,’ he said, whispering the words into her hair, ‘that there will always be more to it than that.’

  Before she could ask what he meant, his arms closed more tightly around her, robbing her of the limited amount of air her tight stays permitted her to hold in her lungs. He covered her lips with his own with bold assurance, his tongue tantalising and teasing until she parted her lips and allowed him ingress. Desire overwhelmed reason and she gave herself over to that kiss, borrowing air from his mouth when her own supply seemed in danger of exhausting itself. Dear God, this was beyond exquisite. If time could stand still and the moment never end, she would have no complaints to make!

  Jake broke the kiss and one of his hands skimmed her breasts through the silk of her gown. She gasped and pushed herself against that hand, causing Jake to emit a wicked chuckle.

  ‘Not here,’ he said. ‘Go up to your room. I will join you in half an hour, if you are absolutely sure.’

  ‘Annoyingly, I have never been surer of anything,’ she replied, huffing indignantly when she observed the triumphant light in his eye.

  ‘Of course you have not. You are mine, Olivia, and we both know it.’

  ‘We have our needs, Jake. Let us not read anything more into it than that.’

  ‘As my lady wishes,’ he replied, bowing as he opened the door for her and she swept through it with as much dignity as she could salvage after suffering the humiliation of pouring her heart out to him and getting so little in return.

  He had known all along that the evening would end this way, she decided, as she lifted her skirts and ascended the stairs. He had always intended that it would, and she had not even made him work for it; impossible man! Even so, she did not have the energy to care. She would submit herself into his capable hands, just for this one night, and let the future take care of itself.