An Unbending Lady for the Desperate Earl: A Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Emma Linfield

  “He must have taken her by carriage,” Victoria declared, staring out at the docks below. Barges and fishing boats sailed by in slow succession; an ever-changing carousel of the same old sights. Ordinarily, the water brought her comfort, reminding her of childhood excursions to Brighton with her mother and father, but now it brought only frustration.

  Benedict looked up from his desk, piled high with paperwork. “Pardon?”

  “He must have taken her by carriage. That is why the boot prints ended at the street.” She touched the pendant at her neck; a gift from her mother. “Which means he cannot be working alone. It would be too much for one person to manage without being noticed.”

  “I think you may be right.” Benedict stretched out his arms, a few old bones clicking. They hadn’t slept a wink and had dined on whatever Victoria had in her meagre pantry. Both of them were suffering for it—fraught and ravenous, their minds close to breaking point.

  “What do you think that means?” Victoria rested her gaze on a barge carrying crates, with a woolen-capped fellow at the helm, a bluish spiral of smoke emitting from his pipe.

  “It means he may have wealth,” Benedict replied. “Nobody would suspect another member of high society, which provides the perfect disguise. They could hide in plain sight, and never fear discovery. And they would have money and assistance at their disposal.”

  Victoria’s heart pounded. “It would also mean he had a firmer grasp of who to target. He would know their weight, their height, their places of residence, and even their daily routines. Young ladies often go about some kind of business regularly, whether it be perusing the latest fashions at the dressmaker or the milliners. It would not be hard for someone to choose a precise moment to strike, if that person observed their victims for long enough.”

  “You have a sharp mind, Victoria.” He only called her that when he wanted to compliment her.

  “I need to,” she replied. “But… I am afraid to say that I am at a loss. I do not know where to proceed from here. We have evidence, and we have potentially uncovered the nature of this villain, but if he is a member of high society, then that means he will be protected.”

  Benedict nodded. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

  Oh dear… Victoria realized that, despite her protestations to the contrary, they may need some additional help after all. And Lord Galbury was precisely the sort of gentleman who might have the necessary outlets to move this investigation along. He held a high position and a high regard, and he might know of gentlemen who had curious reputations. It would be a starting point, if nothing else. And, thus far, they had reached a blockade. They needed a fresh injection of intellect, and a different perspective.

  “What troubles you?” Benedict prompted. “I know that look.”

  Victoria groaned. “I have the most awful feeling that we need to call upon Lord Galbury. He will likely turf me from his door, when he sees me.” She huffed out a sigh. “I do so hate to be proven wrong, and I do so hate to have to beg for outside help.”

  “Humility is as much a part of this job as putting things right.” Benedict smiled, as if he had known this might happen all along.

  “It is easy to say so, but it is much harder to put that lesson into action,” Victoria grumbled. “Do you know where Lord Galbury resides? I do not imagine he can still be at the Pelsley house.”

  Benedict lifted a scrap of paper. “I made inquiries yesterday, just in case you changed your mind.”

  “You did not!” Victoria gasped.

  “I very much did.” Benedict chuckled as he got to his feet, taking his overcoat from the back of his chair and putting it on. Victoria moved sullenly to the coat stand by the office door and put on her heavy cloak. The afternoon looked sunny and bright, but she did not trust the autumn temperament. A chill would cut through that glaring sunshine; she had no doubt about that.

  Together, they abandoned their office and hailed a cab on the street outside. The driver pulled up, looking suitably grim faced as the horse stamped impatiently. Ah, London… Victoria had often wondered if she might have an easier time of her investigative endeavors in a different city, or a different country, but this dreary place was home. And she did not know if she could leave, without it breaking off a piece of her heart.

  The cartwheels rattled and bumped along the cobblestones as the cab headed away from the gloomy docks. Victoria pressed her face to the glass, watching the world flash past. Honest folks in their daily toil, finding humor and warmth wherever they could. She heard their cries and their laughter, and let it soothe her weary soul. But a nagging irritation remained.

  How many of you will not live out the year? How many of you will find an early grave, through murder, and assault, and drowning your sorrows? How many of you will be mourned? How many of you will receive the same attention that these high society ladies have received? One thing was for certain, when the social elite called upon the Bow Street Runners, they arrived as swiftly as possible. When one of these, salt-of-the-earth individuals did the same… well, they were lucky if the Runners came at all.

  But the bigger cases allowed her to live independently. They provided her with money of her own, and a sense of purpose. Maybe, one day, she would earn enough to strike out on her own. Maybe, then, she would be in a position where she could help those who were in most dire need, as well as those who offered the most in the way of remuneration.

  I will serve more of you when I can. I promise you. She turned away from the window, feeling sad.

  “Is something the matter?” Benedict asked.

  Victoria shook her head. “No… nothing of consequence, anyway.”

  “Are you worried about how Lord Galbury will respond?”

  She laughed tightly. “Not so much, no. He seemed eager enough when we parted ways, and I doubt he will have much cause to bear a grudge when we are all trying to find his fiancée.”

  Although, I did behave in a rather uncouth manner… She had to hope that his desire to rescue Lady Helena would outweigh the circumstance of their first, unfortunate encounter. Had the Duchess not exasperated her, Victoria might have been kinder about rebuffing his help. But she supposed she had only herself, and her sensitivities, to blame for her behavior. After all, she had heard it all before. She should not have let it get to her so gravely.

  Some forty minutes later, the cab came to a halt outside a refined townhouse on the edge of Mayfair. They all belonged to the same, homogenized architectural structure. Once upon a time, they had impressed Victoria. Now, she had seen so many that they no longer had any effect on her whatsoever. They represented the residential uniform of high society, nothing more.

  Victoria exited first, with Benedict following after. Holding up the hem of her cloak and her plain cotton dress, she ascended the stairwell leading to the grand front door. A brass knocker, in the shape of a stag’s head, sat in the center. Victoria wasted no time in lifting it, listening for the telltale rap of it echoing into the house beyond.

  A few moments later, a dark-haired fellow with a hawkish visage opened the door. “Hello? What may I do for you?”

  “Is Lord Galbury at home?” Victoria replied.

  The man frowned. “He is. And who may I say is calling?”

  “Miss McCarthy and Admiral Thomson.” She smiled sweetly.

  “Are you expected?”

  My goodness, even I do not interrogate without due reason… “Perhaps. You will have to ask him if he is willing to meet with us.”

  The butler made a curt harrumph and vanished inside, leaving Victoria and Benedict out on the step.

  “Let us hope you were not too abrupt with him,” Benedict murmured.

  A minute or so later, the butler returned. “He has acquiesced to meeting with you. Please, come inside.” He opened the door wider to allow them entry, and immediately showed them to a parlor on the ground floor.

  Victoria took a moment to drink in her surroundings. Being an investigator, she could not help but observe ev
ery detail when in a new place. Lord Galbury possessed one of the finer townhouses she had seen, in an endless array. Stylishly furnished with velvet chaises, and landscape watercolors that adorned the walls, the entrance hall made an excellent impression. It had been painted in creams and golds, giving enough of a baroque sensibility without appearing gaudy. And even the chandelier that hung from the ceiling was understated, with gold and brass vines intertwining like a woven basket that even Dionysus would have approved of.

  The parlor impressed her equally. No mean feat, considering the multitude of parlors she had seen. It followed the same aesthetic as the entrance hall, with neutral cream and golden-toned Fleur-de-Lys paper on the walls, and comfortable-looking leather armchairs that sat at the end of two large, cream-and-gold jacquard settees. The centerpiece was provided by the fireplace; a beautiful creation of white marble, with warming flames licking up and filling the room with a soothing aura.

  Lord Galbury awaited them, perched upon the far settee. He stood and gave a genteel bow. “Miss McCarthy, Admiral Thomson. It is a pleasure to welcome you into my home, though, I confess, I had not expected to see you again, Miss.”

  Victoria’s cheeks reddened under his watchful gaze. A strange occurrence, as rarely did her cheeks flush. “Yes, I can imagine why you would not. Indeed, I must… uh… apologize for my behavior toward you. You did not deserve it, and I should have been more thoughtful in my choice of words.”

  Lord Galbury’s eyebrow arched in surprise. “I hadn’t expected an apology, either. But I am grateful for it. It was a trying day for all of us, and I imagine you had a great deal on your mind.” He gestured for them to sit. “What do you say we let bygones be bygones?”

  “I say, those bys are already gone, My Lord.” Victoria breathed a faint sigh of relief and sank down onto the comfortable settee opposite His Lordship.

  He looked very different in the setting of his own home. Less tense, and more at ease. He had even loosened his cravat somewhat, giving the air of a cavalier Earl who hadn’t been anticipating any sort of company this day. Now that she had the opportunity to observe him more closely, she found that there was much pleasantry to be found in his features. He had russet-colored hair that reminded Victoria of the falling autumn leaves outside, and a set of vivid blue eyes that held a direct intensity. Even sitting, she recalled his build—tall and broad-shouldered, but lacking any suggestion of brute strength.

  His is a quieter sort of power, she mused. I did not notice it before, but then he must not have felt as if he could be himself at the Pelsley residence. One’s own home revealed the true nature of a person. Seeing him now, she wondered if she had been too quick to judge, the last time they met. But maybe that was simply because she needed his help now.

  “May I ask why you have come here today?” Lord Galbury rang a bell as he spoke.

  “We came to speak to you about the offer you graciously made the other day to my colleague here,” Benedict answered first, no doubt fearing Victoria might become defensive. “We have the same missive, My Lord, and we have reason to believe that you may be able to give some useful insight.”

  Lord Galbury frowned. “Insight?”

  Victoria and Benedict exchanged a conspiratorial look, though Victoria was the one to speak. “By searching through the evidence that I have collected from the Pelsley household, we have uncovered a startling possibility surrounding the disappearance of Lady Helena and the other kidnapped ladies.”

  “You have? Pray, tell me, what might that be?” Lord Galbury leaned forward, positively bristling with anxious anticipation.

  Victoria paused, letting the tension build. “Whomever this villain may be. He is one of your own—we are almost certain of it.”

  Chapter 6

  Christian blinked in disbelief. “What do you mean, Miss McCarthy? You believe him to be a military man?”

  “No, not a military man. One of your own, as in a gentleman of high society.” Miss McCarthy stared at him intently. “And, please, you ought to call me McCarthy if we are to proceed. I am an investigator first, a woman second.”

  This day has become even stranger than I might have imagined. Christian reeled at the revelation that the criminal who stole Helena away might be a member of the upper echelons. Outlandish did not even begin to explain his view upon the idea. As for calling a woman by such a casual name… well, that felt equally outlandish.

  “I cannot do that, Miss.”

  “Then call me Victoria,” she insisted, leaving no room for negotiation.

  He shuffled in his seat. “Very well, Victoria.” The name caressed his tongue, alien and new. The informality didn’t sit well with him, but he knew he could not lose the assistance of these two investigators. In truth, during the day or so since he had last encountered Victoria, he had taken pains to dwell upon her character, trying to decipher her nature. He had come to admire her tenacity, no matter how rudely she had dismissed him. After all, she had gained entry into the house when no man could. That suggested a fire in her belly that he had never witnessed in a woman before.

  “Now, before we continue, I ought to tell you what we have found thus far,” Victoria said, before launching into the tale of what she had discovered in Helena’s bedchamber. Christian listened with horrified intrigue, trying not to picture Helena in the moments before she was kidnapped.

  You must have been so frightened, sweet girl. I am sorry for that. I am sorry you were targeted by this creature…

  “He had to have employed the use of a carriage,” Victoria went on. “That means he has to be a man of means, for if it had been a cart or a lesser mode of transportation, then someone would have noticed it. Especially in Mayfair.”

  He noted a hint of disapproval in her tone. He had yet to hear of her own station in life, aside from her investigative endeavors, but he sensed that she was not of wealth or status. Indeed, he imagined she frowned upon individuals such as himself, who enjoyed an easier sort of life to those in the poorer districts of the city.

  “That does make a great deal of sense, though I am loathed to admit it,” Christian replied. “There are staff awake at all hours of the night, and if an unknown cart had trundled onto the street where Lady Helena lives, any number of people would have thought it odd.”

  “Precisely.” Victoria smiled. An enchanting expression that he had not expected to see. It morphed her features into something altogether pleasant, though he realized he shouldn’t be thinking so, at such a time as this.

  “Which is why we have come to you,” Admiral Thomson interjected. “You are of high society. You know those who move in your circles. And we are interested to hear of any peculiar activities in the male contingent, that may lead us toward potential suspects.”

  “There is something you should know, first.” Christian focused on the Admiral, so he would not be distracted by Victoria’s impossibly dark, enigmatic eyes. “I heard whisperings after those first two ladies were taken—the ones who were kidnapped from their carriages.”

  “You did?” Victoria edged forward on her seat.

  He nodded. “According to the chaperones who accompanied the ladies, there were two men who accosted their carriage. They were rendered unconscious in the ensuing kidnapping, but they firmly remembered there being two voices, and two black-clad men.”

  “Two?” Victoria and the Admiral chorused together.

  “Yes, two. Although, I did not read of there being a duo in the papers. Whether the police saw fit to keep that out of the news, or whether they simply did not do enough investigating, I am uncertain. Perhaps, the chaperones were too afraid to say anything to them, in case those men happened to return to silence them. Either way, there were definitely two men involved.”

  The Admiral clicked his tongue. “We thought that might be the case, didn’t we?” He glanced at Victoria. “It would be exceedingly difficult for one individual to work alone on so complex a plot. Two would be simpler. One to execute the kidnapping, one to execute the escape.” />
  “I do believe you may be right,” Christian agreed.

  “Do you know where these chaperones are, at this present moment?” Victoria fixed her disarming gaze on him. He hadn’t noticed so much on their initial meeting, but she looked very fair indeed. Small featured, with an ethereal aspect to her entire demeanor—some might have considered her to be odd-looking, but Christian didn’t. He enjoyed the unusual qualities to her face, for it made a change to the traditionally pretty socialites he usually encountered.

  Christian nodded. “I do, Miss Victoria.”

  “Will you take us to them?” the Admiral asked.

  “Of course. The Duchess has permitted you to pursue her daughter’s case, and I will do everything within my power to assist you. Any resources you may require, any names or addresses you may want, I will acquire them for you. On one condition.” He let his words linger in the air. Victoria’s face hardened for a second, evidently wary of what he might request.