Pack of Trouble (The Adventures of Xavier & Vic Book 5)

by Liza O'Connor

  “You will do no such thing,” Gregory warned.

  “And who will stop me, old man? You? ”

  Gregory placed his fingers into his mouth and released a painfully sharp whistle. A moment later, Samson bounded into the room.

  He took in the scene before him as he approached, his eyes narrowing on the chemist. “Problem, sir?”

  Vic laughed at how fast the chemist backed off. While a plastered coated cripple and an old butler didn’t scare the chemist, muscle bulging Samson did.

  Once safely outside the chemist shop without a bottle, Vic looked up at her aggravated butler. “It’s a beautiful day. May we drive about a bit?”

  His angry eyes softened. “If you wish.”

  Samson and Gregory loaded Vic and her chair into the carriage and off they went to various parks. Once, she had Gregory lulled into a sense of safety, she asked to drive by Buckingham Palace.

  Upon identifying the First Minister’s house on Grosvenor’s Place, she called for the cabbie to stop.

  “I would like to get out now.”

  Gregory eyed her. “Why?”

  “There is someone I need to speak to about a young woman who was harmed and may be in trouble.”

  Amazingly, her explanation satisfied Gregory. Moments later, she was out of the carriage and ready to roll forth.

  “Where to?” Gregory asked.

  She pointed to the white mansion.

  “The First Minister’s house?”

  Damn, she’d hoped he wouldn’t know who lived there. “Yes. I need to speak to his wife.”

  “About this girl?”

  “Yes.”

  “Does Xavier know you are doing this?”

  “No. He’s not the boss of me, you know.”

  “Why doesn’t he know?” Gregory challenged.

  “Because I just thought of it while we were viewing parks.”

  Gregory sighed. “And what do you wish to discuss with the Lady?”

  “Her niece, who may be in trouble.” She hoped he didn’t ask more, because that was all she could tell him.

  To her amazement he instructed Samson to follow and soon she waited on the massive marble front landing of a great deal of circular marble steps. The front door to all appearances opened to the second story of the house.

  Honestly, she had no idea how she’d get past the butler, but she had to try.

  When the door opened, to her shock, Gregory took charge. “Winston, this is my young master, Victor Hamilton.”

  Winston’s stone face broke into a smile. “Master Hamilton, it is an honor to finally make your acquaintance.” He then frowned. “Are you in disguise?”

  “No, Victor nearly lost his life while saving someone,” Gregory stated.

  “Dear Lord. Should you not be in bed resting?”

  Before Vic could respond, Gregory replied, “I would insist upon it, only there is yet another to be saved, a young girl, but to do so, Victor requires an interview with Lady Abigail.”

  “Oh…well, it is far too early for visitors, but come in while I see what I can do.” He looked at Vic. “A young girl, you say?”

  Vic nodded. “Lady Abigail’s niece.”

  “Oh…I see. Please come in.” He led them to a parlor of bright yellow and purple.

  Vic groaned.

  The butler turned to her. “Are you in need of a doctor?”

  Not unless she clawed her eyes out to stop the painful clash of colors. “I can endure,” she promised him. Both he and Gregory exited the room.

  Less than five minutes later, Lady Abigail rushed into the room, pale, with fear etched upon her tired old face. “Has something happened to Julia?”

  “You should sit down,” Vic said. Otherwise she’d have a crick in her neck for the remainder of the day.

  The woman sat on the edge of her couch. “Please, just tell me. I can take anything, other than not knowing what has happened to her.”

  “Then you have lost contact with Julia?”

  She searched about and located a handkerchief that was more lace than substance. “I have not seen nor heard from the girl in almost three years. Is she dead?”

  “I do not believe so. In fact, I believe she is alive and living somewhere in London. The truth is I came here hoping you would know her address.”

  “No…” she paused. “Winston said she was in trouble.”

  “I believe she may be. I greatly want to help her before matters go too far and she is either killed or arrested.”

  The woman’s eyes rounded. “Then her troubles are most serious?”

  “Yes, and you cannot mention this to your husband. This must be handled without anyone of authority being involved. Otherwise, matters could go very badly, and lives could be lost. Can you keep this secret from your husband?”

  “Of course.”

  She stated this like keeping secrets was an everyday occurrence.

  “Then let us proceed. Tell me everything you can about Julia.”

  “Will you not tell me what she has done?”

  “First, I must be certain, without a doubt, that your niece is the one who requires my help.”

  “You came without knowing?” Her tone chilled to ice.

  Vic gathered her thoughts, and then leaned forward, flinching from pain when she momentarily forgot and rested on her right elbow. “I believe the person I seek to help is your niece, but I will protect this girl’s identity first and foremost. She is a victim, and if she has foolishly set about on a bad path, the fault lies not with her. She deserves my help and my secrecy for what she may be doing now. So until I know for certain, this girl is your niece, I can provide you with no information. And even if your niece turns out to be the girl I seek, I will never reveal her past. I will guard her secrets to my death.”

  Lady Abigail nodded. “My niece’s name is Julia Enden. She came to live with us when she was twelve.” Tears welled in the woman’s green eyes. “My sister and her husband died in a carriage accident, so Julia became mine…” Lady Abigail gasped as tears ran down her cheeks.

  The excessively lacy handkerchief was worse than useless. Vic searched her right breast pocket, snared the handkerchief with her thumb and forefinger, and then handed it to the lady.

  She took it and dried her eyes. “Forgive my tears, but she was so precious to me. I would give anything to have her back.”

  “When and how did she go missing?”

  “The first six months, she was grieving for her parents. In an effort to cheer her up, I allowed her to forego her mourning clothes. And soon after she brightened into the most precious child imaginable.”

  Lady Abigail, now smiling, looked years younger than a few moments before. But within seconds her face returned to its haggard state. “But over the next month, she grew angry and tearful, insisting her name was Justine, not Julia. I was at my wit’s end trying to change her back to my little angel, but whatever I did just seemed to make her worse.”

  After dabbing her eyes, the woman continued. “Rage filled her, but I could not fathom why. Then one day, I woke up and she was gone.” She breathed in. “I cannot continue unless you are able to tell me if it’s my niece you seek. The rest is too painful to bear without cause.”

  “I am certain the girl I seek is your niece.” Vic had no doubt that Julia had suffered the abuse of Justine, given she had renamed herself the same.

  Lady Abigail breathed in a ragged breath. “I had intended to call the police, but my husband would not have it. Instead, he hired a detective.” She paused. “Not your agency, of course. He said you did not deal with missing children.”

  “We do now,” Vic stated curtly.

  “How I wish I had contacted you then. God only knows what’s happened to her since. She was thirteen! How has she survived all this time on the streets?”

  “I’m sure it has not been easy,” Vic said. “Were there any indications someone had broken into the house and abducted her?”

  “No. All windows and doors were loc
ked. Only Julia was missing…”

  “And?” Vic pressed, noticing a moment of hesitation flash across Lady Abigail’s face.

  “And some clothes, her hair brush, and her key to the house. To all appearances, she packed up and left, only I have no idea what I did to drive her out.”

  “I don’t believe you did anything to cause Julia to run.” Vic wished she was physically capable of leaning forward and grasping the woman’s hand.

  Lady Abigail shook her head. “No, she blamed me for something!”

  “She may have. But you were not at fault,” Vic insisted. “Children will often misplace anger towards the one they love and trust the most.”

  Lady Abigail stared at Vic as if she’d just been granted salvation.

  “Did you ever hear from her again?” Vic asked.

  “I didn’t think so, but maybe I have. Six months ago, a bouquet of flowers gathered in a ribbon was left on the front door. Its note said, ‘You were not at fault. I realize that now.’ It wasn’t signed, and Winston thought it was for the downstairs maid who had broken up with her beau a week before…maybe it was.”

  “No. I am certain it was for you.” Six months ago was when Julia had come to realize her anger belonged towards a different person, not the aunt who loved her, but the uncle who had betrayed her in the worst of ways.

  “Then she truly is alive?”

  “I am very confident she is.”

  “And you will find her?”

  “I will try my hardest. Do you have a picture of her?”

  She stood and gathered several pictures from the mantel.

  Vic stared at the lithograph of a young innocent girl sweetly smiling as she fingered a vase of flowers. Dear God. Had the same artist who made this lithograph done the book? Was that how they had managed to do this with Lady Abigail in the house?”

  “This is excellent quality. How long did it take the artist to do it?”

  The woman sighed. “You would not believe me if I told you.”

  “Try me.”

  “Three months. The man was evidently a perfectionist, constantly starting over.”

  “Do you by chance have pictures of Julia after she grew angry?”

  “I do, but I don’t keep them out.”

  “May I have the last one taken?”

  “Would you not rather take one of these, they are so much…Oh, I see. She is far more likely to still have her anger.”

  “Yes.”

  “But you said the flowers were from her.”

  “Without question, she has forgiven you for not protecting her. However, she remains angry, but now addresses her anger at whomever harmed her.”

  “I see…Was it the artist? Did he do something to her?”

  “This is Julia’s past and only she has the right to share it,” Vic reminded her.

  “You must tell me. I have to stop him if he’s doing it to other children!”

  “That is my job, not yours.”

  “But you are in a wheelchair.”

  “For a short while. However my partner, Xavier Thorn and staff are all quite mobile. Trust me. This matter will be dealt with.”

  Lady Abigail pressed her hands to her chest. “I do trust you, very much so. When you find my niece, tell her I have missed her every single day she’s been gone, and I desperately want her back.”

  “She is a grown woman now,” Vic reminded her.

  “Then tell her I am sorry I did not stop whatever was done to her, and I don’t care what she has done while trying to survive on her own. I just want her back in my life. On any terms she wishes. I love her and want to hold her.”

  Now Vic was in a great need of a handkerchief. “I will relay the message when I find your niece.”

  ***

  As they rode along in the carriage, Gregory remained remarkably quiet and Vic foolishly believed he understood she could not talk of the matters she’d learned.

  However once he rolled her to the library and placed her in Xavier’s chair, his first words forewarned her of an interrogation. “There are matters I must attend to at once, however, we must talk later,” he said and left the room.

  Damn it! No one ever interrogated Xavier. But Davy, Jacko, on occasion Tubs and now Gregory thought it was quite all right to bully and badger her.

  Staring about for her Sherlock Holmes book, which was nowhere to be seen, Vic lifted the bell and banged it about with frustration.

  She regretted her bad behavior when Sara ran in carrying Cannon who was either eating or climbing up Sara’s hair. Whichever, it looked painful for Sara.

  Vic held out her plaster-covered arms. “I’ll take him.”

  Relief flooded the sweet girl’s face. “Thank you. Gregory just gave me a list of chores a mile long.”

  “He does realize you are the nanny, doesn’t he?”

  “I don’t mind pitching in. We’re understaffed.”

  “Why? I have sufficient money to manage a house.”

  “Yes, but not two houses.”

  “What…Oh, you mean Claire’s house. She can pay for her own servants…I’ll send David a note letting him know that today.”

  Sara set Cannon on her lap. “Try not to lift him,” she advised.

  “Why?”

  “Because your arms need to heal.”

  “Oh, I thought he’d developed a new oddity.”

  Lovingly, Sara rubbed the boy’s blond hair, sprouting out rather like a spring chicken. “He’s not odd; he’s unique, and I want one just like him.”

  Vic opened her mouth to explain if Cannon was unique she could not acquire one just like him, but an interesting possibility distracted her. “Does that mean you are pregnant?”

  Sara smiled happily but then sobered. “You won’t send me off for having a baby will you?”

  Vic knew many houses would release a servant for being so inconsiderate as to have a child, even if they were properly married.

  “I plan to keep you forever,” Vic assured her. “Is your room big enough for a family, or should I hire a carpenter to add another room to yours?”

  “We have plenty of room. I can hire a young girl to watch my baby while I take care of Cannon.”

  “I will pay for another girl, but wouldn’t you rather she help you with both babies so you can have time with your own?”

  “I…yes…I would like that very much. Only Gregory says that is not the way things are done.”

  “I’ll talk to Gregory. He may be worried Cannon will devour your baby. But honestly the boy seems to prefer plaster over human flesh.”

  Vic rubbed her son’s head as he gnawed on the edge of her cast.

  Sara frowned. “Should he be doing that?”

  “Good question. Find me pencil and paper so I can dictate a query to Connors.”

  As Sara walked around to the desk, she frowned at the garbage can. “Did you not like your books?”

  “I cannot find them.” She noticed Sara frowning at the trash basket. “Bloody hell! Are my books in there?”

  Sara pulled them out and brought them to her. Vic took the Scarlet Letter and handed the other to Sara. “Give this to Gregory for safe keeping.”

  The girl hurried out and in a short while Gregory entered and frowned at Cannon. A moment later the boy was pulled from her lap. Cannon bellowed his displeasure, until Gregory held him up to his face. “Stop that. Gentlemen do not throw fits.”

  To her shock, the boy stopped screaming.

  “Nor should they eat expensive leather bound books,” Gregory added as a scold to her.

  Vic studied her book. Sure enough, one corner was soggy and bore teeth marks. “He’s gotten his propensity to destroy Sherlock Holmes from his father.”

  “Is that so?” Xavier asked from the door. He took the boy from Gregory. “Well done, Cannon. Well done, indeed.”

  Gregory took the book from Vic’s hand and carried it away. Given its immediate danger, she didn’t argue.

  Once Gregory was gone, Xavier frowned at her e
mpty chair. “Is there some reason you keep sitting in my chair?”

  “Yes. I miss you.”

  His glare softened and he sat in her chair, still holding Cannon. “As I, you. I had a most aggravating morning.”

  “Are the crime lords giving you trouble?”

  “Honestly, I haven’t even spoken to them yet. And given how my day is going, I probably won’t.”

  “Was the First Minister being an ass?” she asked.

  “That’s putting it mildly. I have dropped the case.”

  “Then perhaps you would like to take up mine?”

  He frowned. “You have a case?”

  “Yes. A young girl lost her parents at the age of twelve. She went to live with her aunt and uncle. The uncle didn’t notice her until she recovered from her grief and then she shone with pure innocence and happiness.” Vic passed him the picture. “However, the uncle brought an artist to the house to do a lithograph of Julia. He was apparently a perfectionist because it took him three months to finish the lithograph and during that time, Julia’s aunt was bewildered by the change in her niece and the angry rage in which the girl would lash out at her.”

  “How do you know this?” he asked.

  “How do you think?”

  Xavier pushed himself out of her chair, forgetting he held Cannon, and would have sent the boy head first to the floor if not for his quick reflexes. He tossed the boy into Vic’s lap and stormed out of the library, yelling for Gregory.

  “Leave Gregory alone. If you have an issue, then tell me.” Vic yelled at him.

  Xavier stormed back inside. “You knew damn well that I would have an issue with this!”

  “All I did was talk to Lady Abigail about her niece. I had hoped she knew where the girl lives.”

  That silenced him. “Does she?”

  “No. She hasn’t seen Julia for three years. And just so you know I have the right girl, she started calling herself Justine during her stay. One night, she packed her things and left soon after the lithograph was made.”

  “Vic, I know you meant well, but you need to speak to me before you act.”

  “I gained Lady Abigail’s promise that she would not tell her husband.”

  “Not tell her husband? Of course, she will tell her husband! She has nothing to fear from him. She is independently wealthy. She can afford to end the marriage. Her father died and left her his fortune a few years back, and I know for a fact, she did not sign it over to the fool. He asked, but she refused, saying it would harm the New Woman’s movement.”