To carry the parcels, no doubt. “I am quite at leisure today, Mama. Do go, and have a lovely time.”
Bella expelled a long sigh when Mama departed, leaving them alone at last. “Gina, you are a saint if you can picture a life at Mama’s beck and call.”
“To tell the truth, Bella, I cannot picture it. Perhaps that is the only thing that keeps me calm.”
Bella giggled and placed one hand over her stomach. “I pray you will thump me over the head if I treat my children thus.”
“I shall. That is a promise, Bella.”
“As for you, Gina, I shall be glad to stand in for Mama. At least today.” She stood and came to stand beside Gina’s chair to give her a gentle thump on her head. “What were you thinking, Gina?”
“I do not know what you mean,” she temporized.
“Do not come over all coy with me, Gina O’Rourke. You kept quiet when I was slipping out at night. I shall do no less for you. But you must see the danger in not telling anyone what you are about. Mary—the washwoman Mary, not the scullery Mary—reported that her spare gown was missing. Then Nancy brought it to me early this morning. She said she found it in your room when she was straightening up. What are you about?”
Heavens! She’d been so exhausted when she’d gotten home that she’d simply dropped the gown where she stood instead of hiding it in the clothes press. “Did she tell Mama?”
“She came to me, Gina, so she could avoid Mama’s hysterics. I repeat, why did you need a washwoman’s dress?”
“I wanted to go out anonymously. I took Mary’s shawl, too, to cover my head. You know that no one notices servants, Gina. I thought I could go places inappropriate for a young woman, perhaps hear things I would not otherwise be privy to.”
“No wonder you are exhausted. But you must stop, of course.”
“Of course. Just as you did.”
“I am not amused, Gina.”
“Neither am I. Three days, Bella. That is all I have left before Mama whisks me back to Belfast. Three days to find those missing hours of my life.”
Bella frowned and sat beside her. “I cannot imagine how difficult that must be for you, Gina. You know I will help you in any way I can, but I cannot condone you prowling the London streets after midnight and putting yourself in danger. If I lost you…I could not imagine such a thing.”
“You will not lose me, Bella. James has taken it upon himself to look out for me.” Heat crept into her cheeks with the thought of just how well Jamie had looked out for her last night.
“Jamie is courting you, Gina. I have been hoping he would speak for you soon, and that you would marry and stay in London with Lilly and me.”
“Oh, poor Bella. Had I known you were thinking in that direction, I would have told you sooner. Jamie is merely trying to keep me out of trouble. He is watching out for me. Ever since Mr. Henley accosted me in the Morris’s garden—”
“What?”
“Mr. Henley came to me in disguise. He spoke to me, and he was dragging me into the shadows when Jamie came looking for me. And since then, he scarcely lets me out of his sight. I tried to discourage him, but he will not relent. Society might think we are courting, but his real purpose is to watch me. That is why I’ve been sneaking out. I cannot have him hovering all the time. People will not speak freely with him glowering like some looming gorilla.”
Bella sighed and her shoulders drooped. “I was so certain…even Drew thought you were courting.”
“No. The furthest thing from it.” Though he’d done a fair imitation of it last night, after she’d begged him.
Bella squeezed her hand. “Very well, Gina. Since I know Jamie is looking after you, I shall hold my peace. Three days,” she repeated. “If there is anything I can do to help, you must tell me. Now run up and change. We are meeting the ladies and Mr. Renquist at La Meilleure Robe in half an hour.”
The little dressing room was hushed when Gina came around from behind the dressing screen and stepped onto the platform in front of the mirror. She smoothed the curve of the fabric over her breasts and turned in a full circle.
Bella was the first to speak. “Stunning. Simply stunning, Madame. You have made our Gina look like a goddess.”
Lady Sarah stood and touched the fabric. “Silk. Of course. The drape is magnificent, Madame.”
Lady Annica smiled her approval. “I have little to add to stunning and magnificent, but perhaps provocative would do. You are going to drop jaws, Miss O’Rourke.”
Madame Marie preened. “I cannot take all the credit, eh? Miss O’Rourke contributes to my creation in some small part, does she not?” The ladies laughed at Marie’s joke as the modiste knelt to adjust a flounce.
“Pearls, I think,” Grace Hawthorne contributed. “The luster will complement the color without detracting attention from the wearer.”
“I think I shall have to commission a similar gown,” Sarah mused, a teasing sparkle in her violet-blue eyes. “Though I would like it done in willow-green. It is Ethan’s favorite color.”
Madame Marie stood and adjusted the small puffed sleeves. “Mais oui. I shall ‘ave to order fabric in every color at once. And you, Miss Gina, shall take this ‘ome with you today.”
A soft knock at the side door interrupted their laughter. “La! That François, ‘e ‘as the good timing, no? Now we shall see what a man thinks of our Gina. Entrer, François!”
True to Lady Annica’s prediction, Mr. Renquist, holding a small carved wooden box, stopped short and his mouth dropped open when he saw Gina. Madame Marie went to him and gently lifted his chin with her forefinger. “Careful, mon amour. You will make me jealous.”
He blinked and focused his attention on his wife. “No need, dearest. No one can hold a candle to you.”
Marie laughed and headed for the door. “You see ‘ow well I ‘ave ‘im trained?” She closed the door behind her.
Mr. Renquist nodded at the ladies and offered Gina his hand to step down from the platform and take a seat with the others. “I have several things to report, ladies. Shall we begin with the box?”
At their nods, he continued. “I have picked the lock and found several items.” He opened the lid and gave it to Gina.
This, then, was the box she had asked him to purchase from Mr. Henley’s former landlord. She rested the box on her lap and poked through the contents.
Mr. Renquist continued as she examined each item. “There is a cravat pin in the form of a dragon with small ruby eyes, a broken watch, a pocket knife, a list of household items and a small packet of unsigned letters.”
“What sort of list?” Lady Annica asked.
Gina ran her finger down the list. “Candles, tinderbox, blanket, wine—”
“He was setting up new quarters, or a hiding place,” Lady Sarah guessed.
Gina skipped over the cravat pin, unwilling to touch the wyvern from which the Brotherhood had taken their name, and lifted the packet of letters. She untied the ribbon that held them together and picked one random letter from the middle of the stack of ten.
It began without salutation and concluded without signature. Gina read it aloud for the rest of the group. “‘I concur, dear Henley, that your position is untenable. I am working on a solution and beg that you be patient. I shall meet you Tuesday next at the usual place and time.’ The writing looks feminine. But how can that be?”
Mr. Renquist nodded. “I thought the same thing, Miss O’Rourke, and that would fit with another piece of information I’ve gleaned. One of the boys I employ from time to time reports that he spotted Henley with a woman. A woman of quality, according to him. That would confirm our suspicion that Henley has help from the ton.”
“Blackmail?” Gina asked, thinking of Mr. Morris.
Mr. Renquist gave a philosophical shrug. “Or affection.”
“Where were they seen?”
“At the Bucket and Well in Whitechapel. The place is a bit better than the usual Whitechapel taproom.”
“Tuesday next,�
�� Bella mused. “Is the letter dated?”
“None of them are. Since the letters have been in the box for a week or more, I believe that meeting has come and gone. Nevertheless, since it appears to be their usual place and time, I shall be at the Bucket and Well this coming Tuesday. All day and night, if I must.”
Tuesday next … Gina would be en route to Belfast. A quick sharp pain gripped her stomach. There had to be some way to conclude this matter by then. She covered her panic by unfolding a single sheet of paper and pretending to study it.
“Ah, yes. The ledger sheet. As you will see, Miss O’Rourke, that is a list of receipts and payments made to various individuals by initials, with the exception of the notations for ‘Gibbons.’ I would like to turn that particular item over to the Home Office, if you do not mind. Perhaps they will have the resources to match the initials and payment to certain individuals and events. I suspect this is a record of Mr. Henley’s blackmail and murder attempts.”
Gina nodded and scanned the list quickly, committing as much as possible to memory before she refolded it and handed it back to Mr. Renquist. “Should they be able to identify anyone from their initials, I would like those names. I conceive it could be quite useful to know who might have pertinent information, and who I should avoid.”
“Of course, Miss O’Rourke. Forewarned is forearmed.” He cleared his throat and finished his report. “The last item is a list of notorious criminals who have been known to kill for hire. I believe Henley has either hired them, or intends to hire them. It is possible he used these individuals to procure women for their…entertainments. What we lack is an explicit list of men he is blackmailing.”
She handed him the list. “I have no use for this, Mr. Renquist. I would not know any of these people, nor would I wish to interview them. Perhaps the Home Office would find this useful, as well.” She closed the lid on the little box, unwilling to give up anything more.
“Thank you, Miss O’Rourke, for not putting me in a difficult position. I am certain the Home Office will make good use of this information.”
She glanced around at the group and sighed. “I do not know when, or if, I shall be seeing any of you again. My mother and I shall depart for Belfast three days hence. If the matter is not concluded by then, I hope I may prevail upon you to follow it to its end.”
“But of course!” Lady Annica frowned thoughtfully and tapped one finger against her cheek. “Do not despair, dear Gina. We shall devote ourselves to a solution.”
Jamie had gone early to the ball at Duchess House, leaving Charlie to escort Gina and the Thayers a bit later. He hoped Gina realized he was not deliberately avoiding her. He’d wanted to talk to Lord Marcus Wycliffe before he focused his attention on her.
Wycliffe always arrived early at such events, preferring to watch arrivals and thus know who was in attendance, a habit he acquired after an uninvited guest at a soiree had attempted to slip a knife between his ribs. Wycliffe never made the same mistake twice.
They stood alone with a glass of wine, watching the wide foyer as guests trickled in, most choosing to be fashionably late. Jamie did not meet his gaze as he made his request.
“I had the news today that Mrs. O’Rourke and her daughter are leaving London soon. Monday, if my information is correct.”
“Really? Well, I cannot say I am sorry. The daughters have been somewhat of a distraction—the eldest murdered, Isabella cutting her way through the ton in her search for the killer, Lillian abducted by a scoundrel, and now Eugenia interfering in Home Office business and distracting you from your duties. Yes, I think it will be quite peaceful come Tuesday.”
“In point of fact, I am here to tell you that there are some matters I need to settle with Miss O’Rourke before she returns to Ireland.”
“Has she done something to compromise our investigation?”
Jamie sighed, ignoring the question for a different admission. “Actually, I fear I may have compromised Miss O’Rourke.”
Wycliffe grinned. “May have? What did you do? Kiss her behind the hedgerow?”
Jamie bristled. He was not about to give details. “What I did or did not do is not the issue. What I do next is.”
“I see. And what are you going to do next?”
“I intend to ask her to marry me.”
Wycliffe choked on his wine and Jamie thumped him on the back. “What? You? Marry? Is this some perverted joke?”
“Not in the least. In fact, I believe it is the only solution. For both of us.”
Wycliffe glanced around to be certain they could not be overheard. “I pray you are not swayed by excessive sympathy for her and her family. Or that you have not overreacted to some imagined impropriety. Truthfully, Jamie, I cannot see you doing anything to risk such dire consequences. Of all my acquaintances, I thought you least likely to commit any such offense. Or to marry, for that matter.”
“You needn’t worry overmuch. I fully expect that she will refuse me.”
“You…Why?”
“She does not care for me.”
Wycliffe cleared his throat and Jamie thought he heard a surreptitious rumble of laughter. “I’ve yet to meet the woman immune to your charms. What have you done to make her dislike you?”
“I carried her from the altar. I am a reminder of her deepest humiliation. Indeed, the worst day of her life.”
Sobering, Wycliffe’s expression turned grave. “If she will not marry you, why ask her?”
“I hope to persuade her. Apart from that, I fear for her. The communications we received from Francis Renquist today lead me to believe she would not be safe even in Ireland. If Henley wants her dead…You have sent men to bring in the blackguards on that list,” Jamie said. “But there may be more whose names we do not have, and how can I protect her against that? I need her closer to hand.”
“Can you control her?”
Could anyone? “I have as good a chance as her mother, and I’m more unlikely to relax my vigilance.”
A large party arrived, turning the foyer into a cacophony of laughter and shouted greetings. On the wide steps outside, he could see Charlie arriving with his charges. Though he could only see the top of her head, his stomach lurched. He’d never been so nervous. He felt like a schoolboy in the throes of his first crush.
He should have called on her earlier in the day. Surely leaving her alone to fret had not been a good move. She was, no doubt, furious with him once she regained her senses. How would he ever woo her back to trusting him?
Chapter Fourteen
Gina was in agony with suspense. When Charles had called for her instead of Jamie, he’d only said that Jamie would meet with them at Duchess House. Not so much as a personal word. Nor had he sent her a message or an explanation. In view of her behavior last night he would, no doubt, wish to distance himself from her as far as possible.
All she could do was to maintain as much dignity as possible. If he feared that she would weep, hurl accusations, make demands, or denounce him, he would be quite pleasantly surprised. She had only one question, and then he’d be free to go his own way. No matter that it would break her heart.
When they entered the foyer at Duchess House, she saw him in deep conversation with Lord Wycliffe. Charles called a greeting and she took a deep breath and cast him a bright, cheery smile. He blinked, then smiled in return. So he had been expecting trouble.
“Here comes my brother. I pray I will not be banished now that I’ve served my purpose,” Charlie said.
“Never!” Hortense vowed. “So long as you dance.”
“I shall dance until your toes tingle, dear Miss Thayer.”
She giggled and fanned herself feverishly, and Gina suspected Hortense might have a secret tendress for Charlie. But Charles Hunter was an odd one—always open and charming though she sensed an underlying darkness.
Jamie bowed deeply to them. “My apologies, ladies. Alas, I had some pesky business to attend, but now that you are here, I shall devote myself to you entirely. Mi
ss Harriett, will you consent to dance with me?”
Harriett glanced sideways at Gina, as if embarrassed that he had asked her to dance before asking Gina. “I should be delighted, Mr. Hunter.”
Charlie frowned, watching Jamie as he led Harriett onto to the dance floor. “Shall we find the punch bowl, ladies?”
They stopped to share pleasantries with acquaintances, and before they arrived at the punch bowl, Jamie and Harriett had rejoined them. When Jamie asked Hortense to dance, Gina suspected that he had a plan. Having done his duties to the twins, he could then leave without having to talk to her. Or, more worrisome, he would then have time to deal with her. That thought disconcerted her since it suggested that he had rather more to say to her than she’d like to hear.
And when, at last, he returned Harriett and extended his hand to her, she was not at all certain she wanted to dance. But she could not refuse without raising eyebrows, so she placed her hand in his and followed to the dance floor. As the waltz began, he pulled her into his arms and smiled.
“I trust you slept well?”
She trained her eyes on a point just over his right shoulder. “Tolerably.”
He chortled. “You were sleeping well enough in my bed. Perhaps I should have left you there.”
“Ten minutes more and the entire household would have known where I’d been.”
“We came that close to discovery, eh?”
“Yes.” But she wouldn’t have cared.
“I need to talk to you, Gina. Everything has changed now, and we need to sort it out.”
She nodded, a cold feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. Why did that sound so ominous? All she wanted was the answer to her question.
He glanced outside the terrace windows and muttered a curse. “Rain. We shall have to find a private room.”
“Can it wait?”
“There is too much at stake.”
He led her from the dance floor and toward the central passageway from the foyer. He opened each door and peeked in until he found one suitable then swept her into the darkened room. By the light from the streetlamp outside, it appeared to be a small parlor.
Regency: Rakes & Reputations (Mills & Boon M&B) Page 15