Heirs and Graces (Victorian Vigilantes Book 2)

by Wendy Soliman

  ‘Well, we both know that Henry is an opportunist and will want nothing more to do with her. But at least we can try and restore her father to her.’

  ‘If you say so.’

  Olivia stamped her foot. ‘Come on, Jake. I will not be diverted. I can see that you are torn between your duty to Thorndike and your concern for Mabel’s father.’ She softened her voice. ‘The Jake I am acquainted with would never permit political manoeuvres to deprive a man of his liberty; perhaps even his life.’

  Jake’s sigh was more resigned this time. ‘If only it were that simple.’

  ‘It does not need to be complicated.’ She shook her head in exasperation. ‘You have done everything Thorndike asked of you and he has arranged for Smallbrooke’s body to be discovered in a manner that will not damage the government. It is now time to follow your own conscience.’

  Jake paced the length of the room, obviously trying to decide how much to tell her. In her present uncompromising mood, Olivia would advise against fobbing her off with platitudes.

  ‘Very well,’ he said, as though sensing her determination. ‘If Lloyd is alive. I believe he is, although I have no evidence to support that theory, but I don’t think Armitage would sanction murder. Not because he has a conscience but because he cannot risk drawing unwanted attention to his activities. If Lloyd’s body was found, it would give the authorities legitimate reason to take an interest in his affairs. I could be wrong, of course, but assuming I am not it follows that he must be held at Armitage’s Glassworks.’

  ‘There, that was not so very difficult, was it?’ she replied with a playful smile. ‘You shared your thoughts with me and the heavens did not open up and smite you down. We make progress.’

  Jake chuckled. ‘Always so passionate, Olivia.’

  You have no idea how passionate I can be.

  ‘What makes you think they will release him?’ she said. ‘If he overheard Armitage’s meetings with the Radicals, they can’t afford to let him go, surely?’

  ‘I would imagine that the Radicals will choose another meeting place as soon as they can, after which no one will listen to Lloyd’s word against that of such powerful men.’

  ‘Let us hope you’re right about that. Anyway, how do you intend to gain access in order to look for him?’

  ‘I cannot.’ He held up a hand to prevent her from protesting. ‘Brody has increased security and, according to Travis, puts the fear of God into those working for him. They are too scared of him to be anything other than vigilant. And even if we did get in, we have no idea where to start looking for Lloyd. But…’ He sent her an infectiously wicked smile, ‘it just so happens that the Commissioner at Great Scotland Yard is a personal friend of mine and owes me a favour.’

  ‘Jake, that’s brilliant!’ Olivia sprang from her chair and impulsively threw her arms around his neck. ‘If you tell him that Mabel has asked for your help to find her missing father, he will have to raid the premises.’

  Jake caught her waist and held her against him. ‘If I had known that you would throw yourself at me, I would have thought of the plan a lot sooner.’

  Olivia felt heat invade her cheeks and looked away from him, left breathless by the vortex of heady desire that gripped her. ‘Be serious.’

  ‘I was,’ he replied, so quietly that she barely caught the words. He released his hold on her and Olivia moved a safe distance away in case she was again tempted to sample his embrace.

  ‘Anyway, Jake, it’s a good plan,’ she said, in control of herself again, after a fashion. ‘Thorndike cannot blame you for the police involvement and without prior knowledge of it, Armitage will not have time to spirit Lloyd away; or worse.’ She frowned. ‘But if the place is as extensive as Mabel implies, Brody could easily slip away and have Lloyd moved before they get anywhere near his hiding place.’

  ‘Oh, I dare say Parker and Franklin will form a part of the raiding party.’ Jake grinned. ‘They will look good in police uniforms.’

  ‘What about you? It will not sit comfortably with you if others have all the fun.’

  ‘No, Olivia,’ he said firmly. ‘There is absolutely no way a woman can be involved.’

  ‘Ah, but you have just confirmed that you plan to be.’

  He chuckled. ‘I am not a woman.’

  She tossed her head and managed not to tell him that she had noticed. ‘Well, I suppose I cannot criticise you, given that you are actually working against Thorndike’s interests and risking him enforcing whatever hold he has over you.’

  Jake’s head shot up. ‘Whatever makes you think I work for him through coercion?’

  ‘I know your character too well to be deceived. You like to right wrongs, but this business with Smallbrooke’s murder that caused you to become involved with Armitage is…well…it’s distasteful politicking, beneath your dignity. I cannot see you voluntarily becoming embroiled in it.’

  Jake tilted his head, sending her a sideways look of respect. ‘You know me too well.’

  ‘What happens now?’

  ‘I cannot see the commissioner until tomorrow. He is away until then and I won’t risk entrusting such a delicate matter to anyone else. The police force is riddled with informers keen to earn a little extra by dropping a word in the right ear.’

  ‘And so we wait. Again.’

  Jake shook his head. ‘Go and change?’

  ‘Why? Where are we going?’

  ‘You are spoiling for a fight and so I shall give you one. With an epée.’

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jake strode back to his chamber and threw off his coat. Dressed in loose trousers and a billowing shirt, he made his way to the ballroom on the lower ground floor of his mansion; a room more regularly used for fencing practise than for dancing. He picked up the manchette to protect his sword hand—his left, even though he was right-handed. Olivia was a skilled swordswoman—fast, cunning and agile—compensating for her lesser physical strength with speed and determination. For Jake, using his left made it a more even contest.

  Jake selected his favourite epée from the stand at the side of the room and ensured that the tip guard was securely in place. He took a firm hold, reacquainted himself with the feel of its weight and, satisfied with its balance, he practised a few lunges and parries. The sound of the weapon swishing through the air with a satisfying hiss of steel was a useful outlet for his mounting frustration.

  A dip in a frigid lake would be a better remedy.

  Damn Thorndike to hell and back! He never should have agreed to his terms. He had known it ten years ago when he started working for him. Now he was in too deep and his life would never be his own to live as he saw fit. He would be looking over his shoulder for the rest of his days. One did not retire from service to the likes of Thorndike and live a normal life. He had known it but at the time it hadn’t seemed like the most important consideration. But then at the time he hadn’t known Olivia.

  He laughed as his reflection in the mirrored walls, but the sound that echoed back at him owed little to humour. For a man who was supposed to be intelligent, he had made more than his share of errors. Agreeing to do Thorndike’s dirty work, and then, having rescued Olivia from a murder charge, offering her the opportunity to work with him instead of never seeing her again. He must have been out of his senses. Either that, or a damned arrogant fool.

  ‘Glad to see you are taking the opportunity to practise.’

  He started at the sound of Olivia’s voice. He had been too preoccupied to hear her approach but he put his weapon aside as she walked into the room with a sensual sway of her hips. She approached him across the wide expanse of the ballroom wearing tight breeches that hugged those slim hips and graphically outlined her small derriere. Ye gods, he didn’t recall her wearing anything quite that revealing in the past. She would have dispensed with her stays—she never wore them when they fenced with actual weapons, and not always when their sparring didn’t extend beyond the verbal.

  She had removed the pins from her hair a
nd tied it back with a ribbon. Thick and sleek, it curled in a shiny column almost all the way to her waist. One day, Jake thought—one day he would find out if it reached as far as her posterior. Then he would get to run his fingers through its lush thickness, see it spread beneath her on a pillow, watch it fall across her naked…Enough!

  ‘Swift in your preparations as always, Olivia,’ he said in a clipped tone designed to disguise the true nature of his thoughts.

  ‘Not swift enough to prevent you from practising before I arrived.’ She pulled her own manchette onto her right hand and picked up her epée. She followed his example and tried a few practise thrusts, her movements lithe, feline and totally distracting. ‘What shall we fight for?’ she asked.

  The question took Jake by surprise. They normally only sparred with one another for pleasure and exercise. Or so Jake told himself. But it seemed their relationship had passed a milestone that called for greater transparency. He knew it would be a grave misjudgement if he acknowledged her unspoken challenge. He could only hold her at arms’ length, denying his feelings, if he pretended those feelings did not exist. And because he hadn’t supposed that she returned them. But now, during the course of this assignment, she had given him reason to think otherwise.

  ‘What did you have in mind?’

  ‘Since you always beat me, even with your left,’ she replied with a disgruntled smile, ‘there seems little point in my thinking of anything. You are the one who ought to make up your mind.’

  They both knew she was referring to more than just a clash of steel.

  ‘Very well, if I win then you and Tom must agree to spend part of the summer with me at Arndale.’ Did I just say that aloud? Evidently he had since her mouth dropped open.

  ‘You want us to come to Torbay? Good heavens! Why? You are the most unsociable creature on God’s earth and never invite anyone to join you there. Besides, Tom would drive you distracted within a week.’

  ‘I have not invited you yet,’ he reminded her with a teasing smile. ‘First you must win our bout.’

  ‘Ah, I see your game.’ She fixed him with a considering look, her lips curving into the merest hint of a smile. ‘You feel safe in making the proposal because you intend to let me win.’ Her eyes glistened a darker shade of turquoise; a combination of rueful mischief and quiet determination reflected in their sparkling depths. ‘Perhaps your suggestion is so extraordinary that I will not take the opportunity to beat you. You know how much I dislike it when you make allowances for my supposedly weaker state. Don’t say you haven’t been warned, my lord.’

  ‘Warning duly heeded. Now, what is your desire, should you win?’

  ‘When I win I expect you to tell me all your dark secrets.’

  Jake’s brows disappeared beneath his hairline. ‘What, all of them? That could take a while. Would you like to be more specific?’

  ‘Very well. I want to know why you have given your life over to helping Thorndike.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘Something happened to make you do it and I would very much like to know what that something is.’

  ‘You know what they say about curiosity, Olivia.’

  ‘I’m prepared to take the risk.’

  Perdition, Jake would have to make sure he won the bout, even if that meant going through with the invitation to Arndale! Especially then. It was beyond him to decline a lady’s wager; that would be discourteous. After all, she was the one who suggested entering into it. But he had not expected her to ask about the one subject he never discussed with anyone. Only Olivia; only his fiery vixen with curiosity and insight would have hit upon it.

  ‘Very well,’ he said briskly. ‘Are you ready?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ she replied with a sultry smile that fired his passion in an inappropriate manner, putting him at an immediate disadvantage. ‘En garde!’

  They saluted one another.

  ‘Pret.’

  ‘Allez!’

  She danced forward before Jake had an opportunity to overcome his tumescence. He parried her attack but was forced backwards in the process. Olivia seized the moment, launching into a riposte that had Jake struggling to repel the speed and ferocity of her attack. He was forced to turn to the side, exposing his back rather than the target area of his chest to the point of Olivia’s blade.

  ‘Ha, I have you in quartata!’ she cried triumphantly.

  She made the mistake of taking a split second to enjoy her temporary victory, providing Jake with the opportunity to lunge forward in a counter attack. Their blades clashed, the noise loud in the otherwise silent room, as they danced around one another. Olivia had found additional strength from somewhere today. She was an unstoppable force, her eyes glinting with sensual disobedience as the balance of power swung first one way and then the other. Jake should have used his right! He wasn’t making any allowances for her but she was gaining the upper hand though litheness and speed. He was too distracted by the sight of her unfettered breasts moving beneath the thin fabric of her shirt and chemise to give the fight his complete attention.

  Olivia cried out in triumph as the protected point of her sword hit Jake’s chest—a direct score in the vicinity of his heart which brought the bout to an immediate end.

  ‘Ha! I have you, finally!’

  Oh, Olivia, you have always had me. Can you not feel it?

  They saluted one another and put their weapons aside. They were both breathless and a thin film of perspiration decorated Olivia’s brow. Jake resisted the urge to wipe it aside with his handkerchief. She had put her heart and soul into that fight and couldn’t disguise her pleasure at having won.

  ‘Congratulations,’ he said.

  ‘I shall accept your congratulations because I know I earned them. You did not permit me to win but you were distracted for some reason. Even so, I won.’

  ‘You did.’

  ‘I hate it when you make allowances for my womanliness, but you did not do so today so I shall revel in my moment of triumph.’

  He chuckled. ‘I know better than to make allowances for you.’

  She stood facing him, a sultry smile playing about her lips, hands resting on those damned enticing hips of hers.

  ‘Well, Lord Torbay, I believe you owe me an explanation.’

  Jake ran a hand through his hair, wondering if he had subconsciously permitted personal considerations to triumph over his deeply embedded sense of duty.

  ‘So I do.’

  He indicated an arrangement of comfortable chairs in the corner of the room. He really ought to delay the moment, talk to her about it when she was less provocatively clothed and he was in better command of his errant impulses. But Jake was tired of doing the sensible thing. If he talked to her, which he would have to do because he had given his word, then he would tell her the complete truth. It might even be a relief to share the burden after so many years of secrecy. They would need absolutely privacy and apart from his bedchamber, or hers—both of which locations were out of the question—they were most likely to achieve it here in this cavernous but empty ballroom where they could hear anyone approaching long before they actually arrived.

  ‘You know, I suppose,’ he said when they were seated side by side on a couch, ‘that I was never supposed to be the Earl of Torbay. I had an older brother.’

  ‘I have heard it said,’ Olivia replied, focusing her full attention upon him. ‘But you never speak of him. What happened?’

  ‘Edward was ten years my senior and my parent’s pride and joy. He was spoiled, indulged and, quite frankly, a lazy individual who could be spiteful and mean if anyone had the temerity to question his activities. I was very much an afterthought, coming as I did four years after my only sister was born, at a time when my parents thought their family complete. My mother had a bad time with me—almost died, she told me—and never stopped resenting me as a consequence. I was pretty much ignored by both parents. Edward was all they cared about. Their handsome and dashing heir could do no wrong.’

  ‘Let
me guess,’ Olivia said in a soft, melodious voice. ‘Being so indulged made your brother neglectful of his duties.’

  ‘It was far worse than that. Not to put too fine a point on it, he became a profligate, interested only in hedonistic pleasures.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘He appeared intent upon running the estate into the ground with his wasteful ways. I was away at university when his behaviour was at its worst but I could see how bad things were when I returned home for the holidays and tried to warn the pater.’

  ‘Who, I imagine, refused to listen to your concerns.’

  ‘Quite. My mother intervened. She had always been Edward’s most loyal supporter and saw nothing wrong in anything he did. She accused me of being jealous.’ Jake threw back his head and closed his eyes, still wondering after all these years if there was anything he could have said or done that would have made a difference. ‘We had the most frightful disagreement when I could no longer remain silent and watch the family’s fortunes being systematically depleted.’

  ‘Knowing your character, I am unsurprised to hear it.’ Olivia leaned her elbow on the arm of the sofa and the side of her face on her hand, giving him her full, undivided attention. ‘What happened?’

  ‘I was twenty-one, just finished at Oxford, and looking for something to do; some form of employment that would help keep the estate profitable. I could see that it needed urgent help but it was only when I looked at the books that I realised how bad the situation had actually become. But my father still refused to listen to me, or to his steward, who shared my view. The atmosphere in Torbay became intolerable. I could not stay there and watch matters get worse, so I came up here, to this house, thinking to find a way to make a living through some of my connections in town. What I didn’t know was that Edward was already in London. He had told the parents that he had business in Plymouth.’

  ‘Where was your sister? If she was four years older than you, presumably she was married by then.’

  ‘Oh yes, to one of Edward’s greatest friends, who treated her abominably. She died in childbirth at about the same time I discovered the extent of Edward’s debauchery.’ Jake sighed, finding it both harder and easier that he had anticipated to speak about the events that had shaped the rest of his life. ‘Parker was a footman here at the time and saw everything that went on, in the way that servants do. I somehow sensed that I could trust him. I knew the estate was being drained of its assets one by one and asked him if he knew why.’ Jake chuckled, a dry, mirthless sound. ‘Oh, he knew right enough and was glad to be able to speak to a member of the family who was willing to hear the truth.’