Loving the Hawke (The Seven Curses of London Book 1)

by Williams, Lana

  “What?”

  “That I should wear brighter colors.”

  “Well, it’s true.” Holly folded her arms across her chest. “You are pretty in your own way.”

  That comment made Lettie sigh. “That really means I’m not pretty at all.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  At least this argument was making her sister forget about the advertisement. “Thank you, Holly. I appreciate your attempts to make me feel better.” But she well knew a different dress wouldn’t change her label as a wallflower.

  Holly hugged her tight again. “Promise me you won’t buy a baby. I’ll come live with you if you become a spinster, living by yourself in a little cottage.”

  Lettie returned her hug. “You are far too pretty to grow old with me. Men will be vying for your attention, and soon you’ll have your own family to worry about.”

  “Not if you’re still alone. I promise not to like any of them and I’ll stay with you instead.”

  Lettie drew back and met her sister’s gaze. “Very well. We shall make a pact. If you are not married by the time you’re five and twenty, you shall come and live with me.”

  “What if you are married by then?”

  The question brought a lump to Lettie’s throat, but she did her best to hide it. She’d long ago given up hope of such occurrence. “Then you shall still come and live with me.”

  “It’s agreed.” Holly picked up the newspaper clipping and tore it in half and then half again. “We have no need for this.”

  “No. We do not.” Lettie hoped Nathaniel would keep his word and aid her as well as allow her to help him. If they could save a few of those neglected children, Lettie would be happy. That would be enough to fulfill her.

  And she could think of no better way to take on such a noble task than with Nathaniel. For a brief moment, she thought of their kisses, wishing he truly cared for her. Perhaps he was attracted to her on some level.

  No. She was a wallflower and he was a hero. No matter how much she stretched her imagination, she couldn’t see any world where they were more than passing acquaintances.

  She blinked at the tears that filled her eyes at the thought. She’d known all along he was not for her. He was only in her life for a short time. The knowledge made her even more determined to hold on to the special moments she shared with him. Surely they would give her pleasure in the years to come. She would think of the days ahead as a grand adventure.

  She forced a smile, but it didn’t reach her heart.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “Instructive and interesting though it may be to inquire into the haunts and habits of these wretched waifs and “rank outsiders” of humanity, of how much importance and of useful purpose is it to dig yet a little deeper and discover who are the parents—the mothers especially—of these babes of the gutter.”

  ~ The Seven Curses of London

  Nathaniel read the report from the man he’d hired to assist him. Robert Langston was a former detective who continued to make his living chasing down unscrupulous characters who escaped the law. But now he did so outside the boundaries of the police department.

  No longer believing in the justice system, he’d decided to bend the rules he’d previously lived by. From what little he’d told Nathaniel, it seemed he’d had one too many criminals go free despite evidence pointing to their guilt.

  One of those criminals was Culbert Rutter. Enough evidence had existed to arrest him. It had only been later—too late—that Langston had been advised his sentence was overturned due to a sudden lack of evidence. Someone higher up in the justice system had chosen to release Rutter.

  Nathaniel had been given Langston’s name by the man he’d befriended on the Metropolitan Police Department and had liked him immediately. In his mid-forties with a receding hairline and impressive sideburns, Langston was a no-nonsense individual. Nathaniel had no problem with the man’s bent rules. He’d had to do the same a few times during his time in the service. As long as Langston’s unconventional actions didn’t attract interest from the police, all was well.

  Though he preferred to work alone, doing so in this case wouldn’t suffice. There were too many schemes and too little he could do alone to stop them.

  Since the former detective had begun working for him two days ago, Nathaniel had been pleased with Langston’s work. He was thorough, patient, and stubborn. All of which were excellent traits for the job before them. With so many brothels to watch, not to mention checking ships crossing the Channel, advertisements in papers...truly the list was endless. Having assistance in determining where action should be taken was helpful.

  They’d discovered more details on the new brothel said to specialize in virgins to which Culbert and his cohorts supplied girls.

  Now Nathaniel needed to decide what to do about it.

  After much thought, he’d avoided attending any social engagements since his last meeting with Letitia. She’d invaded his dreams at night, pulling him along on erotic adventures she would’ve been appalled to know about in reality.

  The less time he spent with her, the better.

  Yet he couldn’t allow too much time to pass. Else, once again, she’d be taking matters into her own hands. That would have terrible ramifications. Though tempted to have Langston keep an eye out for her, he’d decided against informing the man of Letitia. Surely she wouldn’t do anything rash now that she believed she’d forced him into aiding her.

  If only he could convince himself of that with greater certainty. The woman was unpredictable to say the least.

  He needed to attend whatever event she was this evening. Putting in a brief appearance would surely bring a halt to any wild schemes she’d concocted.

  A knock sounded on the front door, startling him out of his reflections. Who could that be? He rarely had unexpected visitors. He listened from his desk in the library as voices filled the foyer.

  With a groan, he realized who it was.

  As she entered the room unannounced, he rose to his feet. “Good day, Mother.” He didn’t bother to come around his desk for any sort of greeting. She didn’t care for displays of affections.

  “Nathaniel, I am most displeased.”

  “Of course you are,” he muttered, bracing himself for her latest complaint, which was surely about Tristan not making progress in gaining a wife.

  She’d aged relatively well for a woman of her advanced years. Her dark hair held touches of grey at the temples and lines bracketed her mouth. A few wrinkles marked her blue eyes but, as she rarely smiled, they were minimal.

  “What did you say?” she asked, the violet feather on her bonnet bobbing alarmingly.

  “I asked what has you so upset?” He already knew it had nothing to do with him and everything to do with his brother. If only Tristan would do her bidding as he’d so willingly done their father’s, Nathaniel’s life would be much easier.

  “Your brother—”

  Voices echoed in the foyer once again. Nathaniel had a good guess as to who his second guest was.

  Tristan strode into the room, only to stop short with a scowl at the sight of their mother. It seemed his brother had come to complain about her as well.

  “Good day, Tristan. It seems Mother has something to say to you.” He raised a brow toward her, hoping she’d address her concerns directly rather than insisting he be the messenger.

  “I have already heard what she has to say,” his brother said tightly. The disdainful look he sent their mother was surprising. “I’ve come to speak with you,” he told Nathaniel.

  He’d always thought the two were on the same side. The side without him. He didn’t belong with any of his family.

  Tristan and his mother both glared at him. With a sigh, he took a seat, hoping they’d do the same so they could resolve whatever dispute they had like reasonable adults.

  “Mother, why don’t you share your concerns with both of us?”

  “Humph.” She took a seat in one of the chairs before his d
esk, completely ignoring Tristan. “Your brother doesn’t seem to understand how important it is for a woman of a certain age to see her sons settled.”

  Nathaniel chose to ignore the fact that she’d never suggested he settle down. He already knew she believed exactly what his father had—that he didn’t matter. He expected nothing less and told himself the tightness in his chest was from their unwelcome presence in his home. Surely he’d long ago put aside the hurt these sort of discussions caused. The sooner he settled this, the sooner they’d take their leave.

  “Tristan, surely you understand why seeing you married is important to Mother.”

  “No, I don’t.” He sat in the other chair and looked at his mother. “What difference does it make to you?”

  She opened and closed her mouth like a fish. “I shouldn’t have to explain. It is your duty as heir—”

  Tristan leaned forward, the anger on his face surprising. “I have always done my duty. But I am weary of it. No more.”

  Their mother jerked back as though he’d slapped her. “How can you say such a thing? Your father—”

  “Damn my father.” The cold voice Tristan used shocked Nathaniel.

  Never in all their years had Tristan ever spoken a word against their sire. What on earth had gotten into him?

  As though he’d only just realized what he’d said, Tristan sat back in the chair, his jaw clenching.

  His mother’s knuckles turned white as she gripped the chair arms, her lips forming a tight line.

  Nathaniel felt the sick and all too familiar sensation he’d grown up with filling his belly. He swallowed hard. How many times had such tension filled the room in his youth? Except it used to involve their father belittling him for one reason or another. Or for no reason at all.

  He did his best to keep his mask in place, to not allow either of them to know how much this conversation upset him.

  “Your father only wanted what was best for—”

  “For him, Mother. Only for him. You know what a selfish bastard he was. Why are you suggesting otherwise?”

  Nathaniel waited, wondering if she would actually answer.

  “There may have been a few times when he was unduly harsh, but I hardly think that is cause to speak ill of him.”

  Tristan stared hard at Nathaniel, but Nathaniel had no idea what he wanted him to say or do. Nor did he understand the purpose of this conversation. As far as he was concerned, their mother could believe whatever she wanted. He knew the truth. What Tristan believed was still a mystery, but it didn’t matter to Nathaniel nor did he care to discuss it. His father had taken up far too much of his thoughts for years. Nathaniel was doing his best to put that part of his life behind him.

  If only he truly could.

  Nathaniel waited, his gaze meeting Tristan’s.

  With an oath, Tristan rose and stormed out, leaving silence in his wake.

  “I have no idea what’s gotten into your brother of late,” his mother said, her eyes watering suspiciously.

  “Nor do I.” He looked away from the tears. They did no good now. She should’ve used them while his father was alive to see if they would’ve worked on him.

  She sat forward in her chair and looked at Nathaniel beseechingly. “All I ask is for you to encourage him to find the appropriate lady and offer for her. The line must continue.”

  “Why don’t you allow Tristan to do so in his own time, Mother?”

  “It’s not as if it has to be a love match,” she continued as though he hadn’t spoken. “He can do what he wishes after he begets an heir.”

  Nathaniel closed his eyes for a moment. How many times did they have to discuss this? She said the same thing time and again. It only seemed to anger his brother. Why, he didn’t know.

  “It was your father’s dying wish that Tristan marry before he turns five and thirty. I don’t ask much of you, Nathaniel. Can’t you assist with this one request?”

  “I’ll speak with him again,” Nathaniel lied. He would indeed speak to him, but not of this. He didn’t care what their father wanted. Tristan could make his own decisions. No doubt he had little interest in Nathaniel’s opinion anyway.

  “Thank you.” She blinked rapidly, causing Nathaniel to rise with the hope that she’d leave now that she’d accomplished her mission. “I’m sure you’re busy.”

  “I am.” He didn’t feel the least bit of remorse for his lack of civility toward her. Not after all the times she’d stepped aside so his father could berate him. Especially since she’d paid no attention to him his entire life.

  She rose. “Very well then. I hope to see you this evening at the musical.”

  “Certainly. Good day.” He’d promise nearly anything to get her to leave.

  After glancing at him uncertainly, she departed. The tension in the room fell away as he heard the front door close behind her.

  He had no idea what had made Tristan so angry, but he had enough problems of his own with which to concern himself. If Tristan wanted to talk about something, he knew where to find him.

  With a deep breath, he sat in his chair and picked up Langston’s report again, wondering what would be the wisest path to put an end to this group that involved Culbert Rutter, a welcome task after the unsettling business with his family.

  ~*~

  When Nathaniel arrived at the musical that evening, he didn’t see either of his family members, much to his relief. Perhaps they were avoiding each other and had decided not to attend.

  In truth, Nathaniel wouldn’t have attended if not for needing to see Letitia. Social events felt frivolous when he knew his time was better spent elsewhere. But Letitia was no doubt creating a scheme to act on her own. He’d decided to pretend as though he intended to help her but would draw it out as long as possible with the hope that she’d lose interest in the project. Based on what little he knew of other ladies in the ton, that shouldn’t take long.

  He ignored the fact that Letitia was unlike any woman he’d ever met with her unselfish nature, relentless bravery, and, most of all, how she made him feel.

  The musical was a large affair with well over fifty people in attendance. Chairs were set in rows for the guests but few had taken a seat. Instead they gathered along the edges of the room to visit until the performance began. He spotted Letitia immediately as he so often did. Somehow his senses were set for her like a compass was set to north. The idea made him smile.

  “Captain Hawke, how nice to see you this evening.”

  He turned at the unfamiliar voice to find a lady who appeared vaguely familiar addressing him.

  At his blank look, she smiled. The underlying meanness to that smile stirred his memory, the lady who’d called Letitia Lettuce. He did not return her smile only gave her the barest nod and continued walking. Why would she attempt to speak with him?

  When he reached Letitia, he chose to exaggerate his greeting, well aware the other woman watched.

  “You look lovely this evening,” he said with a smile.

  She blinked up at him as though confused. Had he never told her that? He realized he hadn’t the last few times he’d seen her. How remiss of him.

  “Thank you.” Her smile was sincere. Despite her lack of dance partners, she remained a genuinely kind person, not bitter like some who were overlooked in life, and he respected her for that. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  The warm feeling that spread through his chest at her words alarmed him.

  “Do you have news?” she asked then glanced toward the area where the musicians were warming up.

  Her tone belied the casualness of her behavior. It would take some time before she forgot her quest. Far longer than he’d originally expected. Doubt filled him at the wisdom of his plan. Perhaps he needed to offer some small task so her need to help would be fulfilled.

  “I don’t,” he answered at last.

  She turned quickly to search his face as though wondering if he told the truth. Her expression dimmed as though disappointed at his reply.<
br />
  “Actually, I do have one piece of news.”

  “Oh?” Immediately her eyes lit again.

  He chose not to question why he preferred that expression so much more. “I’ve found another man whose interests are aligned with mine. He is a former police detective pursuing the same group of men I am.” He didn’t mention he’d hired him.

  “That is wonderful. The more you have to aid you, the better. Hopefully that means you’ll be safer as well.”

  That was nothing Nathaniel cared about. He only wanted to find Rutter’s boss and put an end to his efforts. That was proving more difficult than he’d expected, but having another set of eyes on the street who had an even better feel for the people involved would help considerably.

  “Won’t it?” she asked, eyes narrowed as she watched him.

  “Certainly.” He chose not to meet her gaze as he told the lie.

  “I feel compelled to advise you it doesn’t change our arrangement.”

  “Of course not.” He knew sarcasm laced his tone but he couldn’t help it.

  “Shall we meet near Blackfriars Bridge on the morrow? Perhaps we can find another girl to whom I could offer help?”

  He nearly groaned. What simple task could he find for her that would both keep her safe and fulfill her desire?

  “Excuse me.” A footman stood at Nathaniel’s elbow. “A message was delivered for you, Captain Hawke.”

  Grateful for the interruption, he turned to see the man held a silver tray with a sealed message on it. An uneasy feeling crept over him as he retrieved it. There was little chance the note held good news.

  He nodded his thanks to the footman and opened the missive.

  “I hope all is well,” Letitia offered, her tone laced with concern.

  After reading one of Langston’s reports, Nathaniel immediately recognized the handwriting. If the man had made the effort to send a message here, something was amiss.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN