‘It cannot be easy for gentlemen in your position; or for the ladies either, I suppose, who are expected to charm eligible gentlemen into matrimony, regardless of their own wishes. I had not considered the possibility before.’
‘It is not just the lower and middle classes who have reason for dissatisfaction,’ he said pensively. ‘All stratus of society have obligations they are expected to fulfil but at least the elite don’t have to worry about where the next meal is coming from and can enjoy their dissatisfaction in more comfort.’
‘I dare say—’
A commotion behind them caused them both to turn their heads. Tom and little Gracie had escaped their nurse and tumbled onto the terrace like eager puppies bursting with energy. Amelia smiled at the sight and, with a few gentle words of encouragement, persuaded Gracie to sit on her lap. Tom was enjoying his freedom too much to be detained and ran off into the garden, calling to Tabitha. The cat saw him coming and wisely took to the nearest tree.
‘Come down at once, Tabitha!’ Tom demanded, his little face a picture of impatience. ‘We are going to play a game.’
‘I had best rescue the cat before blood is spilled,’ Lord Willard said, grinning. But he didn’t go immediately. Instead he surprised Amelia by lifting her hand to his lips and kissing the back of it. His lips lingered as he held her captive through eyes that burned with an unfathomable expression. ‘It looks as though we shall soon be on our way,’ he said. ‘If Tom can be corralled.’
‘Small boys have their own agendas,’ she replied, smiling.
‘So it seems.’ He sighed. ‘I have enjoyed our talk this morning and hope an opportunity will present itself in Grosvenor Square to do it again. Jake’s gardens are extensive,’ he added, a note of mischief creeping into his voice.
‘I hope so too,’ she said, because it was true. ‘And I like gardens very much.’
‘Then I consider it a fixed engagement.’
He excused himself to go after Tom. Amelia carried Gracie back into the house and restored her to her harried nurse.
‘Ah, there you are,’ Olivia said. ‘We were about to come in search of you. Are you ready to go? Really, Jake is insufferable. When he decides upon a course of action there is no dissuading him, no matter the inconvenience to others. This move is quite unnecessary and I wish now that I had not agreed to it. But if I change my mind, having given my word, I would not put it past him to turn up here and remove me bodily from my own home.’
‘I am sure he knows what is for the best,’ Amelia said in a placating tone, pleased to see Olivia restored to her normal, combative self.
‘And I am sure of no such thing,’ she sighed. ‘However, as always I am completely at his service.’
‘Tom is trying to coax Tabitha from a tree,’ Amelia told her. ‘And Lord Willard, perhaps unwisely, has appointed himself to coax Tom away from Tabitha.’
‘Then I feel very sorry for him,’ Olivia replied, a broad smile gracing her beautiful face. ‘Tom is every bit as stubborn as his mama, I am afraid. Not that I see that as a fault, of course, but others might disagree.’
Amelia donned her bonnet and cape. ‘Well, I expect Lord Willard will get him to see reason. He seems rather persuasive.’
‘He has persuaded you to like him; that much is obvious.’
‘Well, I…’ Amelia felt her cheeks flame. Again.
‘You are not the first lady to be beguiled by his easy manners, my dear. Fergus is a very hard person to dislike.’ She sighed. ‘So different in every way to Jake.’
Amelia would like to ask more questions but the gentlemen they were discussing entered the room at that point, Tom thrown over his shoulder, giggling wildly.
‘Mama,’ he protested. ‘Tabitha will not come down from the tree.’
‘How very wise of Tabitha,’ Olivia said in an amused aside to Amelia.
A short time later everyone was finally ready to go.
‘We have to leave by the back entrance, like thieves in the night,’ Olivia complained. ‘Jake insists upon it.’
‘Since when did you ever listen to his instructions?’ Eva asked, amused.
‘He does not want us to attract attention to ourselves, just in case anyone knows we are harbouring fugitives,’ Olivia said with a mischievous look at Amelia and Mabel. ‘Come along everyone, the carriages are at the back gate.’
Amelia entered Lord Torbay’s immaculate conveyance along with Olivia, Eva and two boisterous children. Her two friends and the little ones sat together facing forward, leaving Amelia to sit beside Lord Willard. Mabel, various maids and all the luggage were loaded into Olivia’s carriage and the small convoy moved off.
The children chattered non-stop for the duration of the journey, helping to quell Amelia’s nerves. She glanced out of the window as the carriage made its way into the smarter part of town. Smarter? Only yesterday Chelsea had seemed impossibly swanky. A street she had occasionally traversed but had never thought to have any connection to, no matter how tenuous, was now her destination. Remarkable!
‘Here we are,’ Olivia said.
Amelia glanced through the window and gasped her appreciation. Even by Grosvenor Square standards the house they were turning into was magnificent. She gazed up at a huge mansion built in what appeared to be solid marble, its myriad windows sparkling in the morning sunshine. The wrought iron gates were opened to them by an unseen hand as they approached; the gardens beyond them were meticulously maintained.
The carriages drew to a halt in front of the entrance steps and several footmen descended upon them. Lord Willard alighted from their conveyance as soon as the steps had been let down and then reached inside again, offering Amelia his hand.
‘Thank you,’ she said, slipping hers into it. She was pleased that she managed to alight with relative elegance, and her fluttering nerves did not cause her to fall on her face.
‘Impressive, isn’t it,’ he said, following her gaze as she continued to look up at the grand façade.
‘I have never seen anything to equal it.’ She bit her lip, doubly conscious of her comparatively shabby gown. ‘I feel as though I ought to approach from the servants’ entrance.’
‘Nonsense!’ He proffered his arm. ‘Come along. Are you ready?’
Amelia swallowed down her nerves. ‘As I ever will be.’
She entered the house, Lord Willard’s arm firm and reassuring beneath her hand, impressed beyond her wildest imaginings by the interior of number fourteen Grosvenor Square. Her heels sounded loud on the chequered floor of the entrance vestibule. She looked up past the wide sweeping staircase to the domed ceiling several stories above her head. Sunlight filtered through multi-faceted coloured panes of glass, casting light and shadow over the spot where she stood waiting to be asked what business she could possibly have at such a grand residence.
Instead a maid bobbed a curtsey and begged permission to show her to her chamber. Amelia swallowed back her surprise. A maid, curtseying to her and treating her like the lady she patently was not.
‘Go along,’ Lord Willard encouraged. ‘I shall have the pleasure of seeing you at luncheon, I expect.’
And so Amelia lifted her head and ascended the wide staircase with as much grace as she could muster in the maid’s wake, praying that she would not stumble over her hem and make a complete fool of herself.
Chapter Thirteen
Jake sat across from Thorndike, arguably the most powerful and ruthless man in the entire country. He knew where all the bodies were buried—had figuratively filled in half the graves himself—and only told Lord Derby what he needed to know to remain in power. Keeping his master at the pinnacle of British politics was Thorndike’s primary objective; one that he pursued with single-minded determination, riding roughshod over anyone who attempted to get in his path.
‘Let me see if I have got this straight.’ Thorndike fixed Jake with a penetrating look as he leaned back in his chair and mulled over what Jake had just told him; which was far from everything he knew.
‘You have managed to ascertain that nocturnal meetings occur at Armitage’s glassworks and that Cartwright is likely involved in them.’
Jake nodded.
‘Armitage has cancelled his night shift, in spite of full order books, and has doubled security. You think he has done so in order for the clandestine meetings to go ahead away from prying eyes?’ He leaned forward and peered myopically at Jake, who wasn’t deceived by his air of confusion. Jake knew that Thorndike’s razor sharp brain would have already processed Jake’s verbal report and understood its implications. ‘Can we be absolutely sure it is Cartwright?’
‘I spoke to a disgruntled apprentice who recognised him. Cartwright’s daughter is married to Armitage’s son, so Cartwright must have been to the glassworks legitimately. I have no evidence to support the view, but I believe Armitage insisted upon the marriage in return for his support and, more specifically, the use of his premises. You don’t need me to tell you that those plotting to bring down the government must ensure that they meet in absolute secrecy.’
Thorndike pursed his lips and subsided into momentary contemplation. ‘I have the homes of leading Radicals being watched and would know if any meetings took place there.’
Jake flashed a reluctant smile. ‘Making sure the watchers are seen, no doubt.’
‘Dear boy, welcome to the world of politics.’
‘You wanted to force them underground? Literally in the case of Armitage’s factory.’
‘As you rightly say, Cartwright overplayed his hand by allowing his precious daughter to marry Armitage’s son. We would not have known about Armitage otherwise.’ Thorndike took a sip of his cooling coffee. ‘And as soon as I was made aware of his possible involvement, I realised what a good location Limehouse would make for secret meetings. The place is a positive rabbit warren and the last area one would imagine such plotting to go on.’
‘Which is why you called upon my services?’
Thorndike’s lips twitched. ‘You have occasionally made yourself useful with your particular brand of skills.’
Jake sent him a cool look. ‘Limehouse is a dangerous place at night and you won’t find many people lingering after dark for fear of being robbed, or worse. But in spite of that, the occasional gentleman’s carriage is not an unusual sight, given the specialist services provided by some of the local prostitutes.’
‘What else do you have to tell me?’
Jake elevated a brow. ‘You want more?’
‘Come on, Torbay,’ Thorndike said impatiently. ‘I’m a busy man.’
Jake settled himself into a more comfortable position and took his time responding. ‘It just so happens,’ he eventually said in a languid tone, ‘that I have Armitage’s daughter as a houseguest.’
It wasn’t often that Jake succeeded in surprising Thorndike. The Prime Minister’s aide sat bolt upright and fixed Jake with a look of total astonishment. ‘I think you had better explain,’ he said in a thin voice as he twirled one end of his bushy moustache.
‘What do you know of an architect by the name of Raymond Mason?’
‘Mason?’ Thorndike threw back his head and closed his eyes. ‘No, it doesn’t ring any bells. What is he to do with the matter?’
‘He is the man Armitage intended for his daughter to marry.’
‘Ah, now I follow you. We already know that he married off his son to further his ambitions so it follows that Mason can also be useful to him.’
‘Miss Armitage is not so obliging as her brother, and ran away from home rather than acquiesce to her father’s wishes. Her rebellion came as a surprise to her father since she had given him no reason to expect it. Anyway, suffice it to say that she just happened to run in my direction—’
‘I would dearly love to know how she came to do so,’ Thorndike said, curiosity breaking through his normally bland expression.
Jake didn’t have the slightest intention of enlightening him. Thorndike was aware that Olivia occasionally helped him—Jake had been unable to avoid spilling that nugget of information—but he never mentioned her name to Thorndike if he could avoid it. Thorndike collected information in the way that philatelists collected stamps. Others had sensed his partiality for Olivia, despite Jake’s best efforts not to reveal it, and so Thorndike was bound to have done so as well. He wouldn’t hesitate to exploit that weakness in the event that he and Jake finished up at odds with one another, which was likely happen if Jake decided he no longer wished to work for Thorndike.
Whoa, where did that thought spring from? Jake had not given any conscious thought to resigning from Thorndike’s service.
‘The details are not important.’ Jake spoke lightly but his determined expression made it clear that he would not impart them anyway. ‘All that signifies is that I am keeping her safe and that her father is distracted, looking for her all over London.’
‘She could be useful to us,’ Thorndike mused. ‘We need someone reliable on the inside of that organisation. If she were to go back—’
‘Out of the question.’
‘Yes, I suppose it is.’ Thorndike flapped a negligent hand. ‘But I see your point. If Armitage got her back, he would want to know who had helped her. Can’t let that get out.’
‘Precisely.’
‘And anyway, Armitage wouldn’t let her out of his sight again and she wouldn’t be able to report back to us.’ He shrugged. ‘Shame.’
‘Quite.’ Which was why Jake had no intention of telling Thorndike about Mabel. Without a thought for her welfare, Thorndike would put considerable pressure on Jake to have her return to Limehouse. ‘However, it might interest you to know that Mason has a connection to the Radicals. On the night that Miss Armitage declined his proposal he went straight to Falconer’s rooms.’
‘The devil he did!’ Jake had Thorndike’s complete attention now. ‘Tell me more.’
‘I cannot find any obvious connection between the two. Falconer and Mason are not related, as far as we can ascertain. However, I have had people making discreet enquires about Mason and learned just this morning that he has acquired a large plot of land on the outskirts of London, upon which he intends to build a smart terrace of houses suitable for the emerging middle classes.’
Thorndike nodded. ‘I am not surprised. As soon as you mentioned the man’s occupation I assumed it would be something of that nature. And if he is a Radical supporter then his thoughts would naturally veer towards housing close to the capital for those with newly-acquired wealth who can afford to lease such property, or even purchase it outright. A thoroughly apposite method in which to establish more support close to the seat of power.’
Jake nodded. ‘We assume that he and Falconer are partners in the venture. Mason doesn’t give the impression of having money of his own, but he is ambitious and this project, if it goes ahead, will make his name.’
‘I imagine Armitage’s price for financing it, if that is what he intends to do, is marrying his daughter off to the man.’ Thorndike chuckled. ‘Unfortunately for him, the girl had the good sense to run off.’
‘I don’t like failing,’ Jake said, ‘but you asked me to handle this matter quickly and that is as much information as I could uncover in the time available. I have pondered upon the possibility of gaining access to the private meetings at Armitage’s to find out what they are plotting to do next but cannot think of a way to infiltrate them. They meet in a room reached by an underground passage with a footpath of cinders that crunch under every step. No one can approach without being heard and immediately apprehended, I would imagine. You could set people to watch for arrivals but, again, anyone loitering in that area would stand out. Besides, we have no idea if, or even when, the next meeting will take place. I assume the previous ones were held to plot Smallbrooke’s murder. That has been achieved so will they risk meeting again?’
‘I take your point. Still, keep asking questions, Torbay. I would imagine they are getting nervous, given that Smallbrooke’s inconvenient demise has not yet become public kno
wledge. They will want to know what we know and what we plan to do with that knowledge.’
‘And, naturally, they will only find out what you wish them to know,’ Jake replied with a sardonic smile. ‘This is just the sort of situation which you excel at.’
‘How kind of you to say so.’
‘It was not intended as a compliment.’
‘Nevertheless…’
‘What have you done about Smallbrooke?’ Jake knew better than to assume his body had simply been committed to the Thames, to wash up further downstream at a later time. As he had just implied, Thorndike would use his opponents’ mistake in allowing Smallbrooke’s body to be found by the wrong people to make political capital.
‘Smallbrooke’s body will be discovered today in his mistress’s bed,’ Thorndike said with the ghost of a smile.
‘Ouch!’ that was harsh, even by Thorndike’s ruthless standards. ‘And the lady herself?’
‘Has been well recompensed and will keep her mouth firmly closed. In fact, I believe she is so overset that she had taken herself off to the country to an undisclosed location for an indefinite period, until the hue and cry dies down. She will then be at leisure to return to London and resume her occupation with a new protector. I understand she is an attractive chit and the notoriety will most likely leave her in a position to be selective.’
‘Far be it from me to question your judgement,’ Jake said languidly, leaning back in his chair and allowing one hand to dangle over its arm. ‘But are you sure it’s wise to draw public attention to Smallbrooke’s extra-marital activities? I mean,’ he added, shrugging. ‘I know he was causing problems for Derby but that was just a ruse.’
‘You and I know that.’
‘All right, but he was still a Conservative MP and dragging his mistress into politics seems a little—’
‘Smallbrooke was supposed to be on the point of defection to the Radicals so they had no reason to kill him that can be made public.’
Heirs and Graces (Victorian Vigilantes Book 2) Page 16