Blake peeled off his damp leather gloves and handed them to the butler. “I take it our guest has been shown to her rooms and her every comfort seen to?”
Mr. Kent nodded. “Of course, my lord. I was just escorting Miss Ashton to luncheon.”
Blake’s blue eyes traveled from Victoria’s face down to her feet. “I’m famished. I shall join Miss Ashton.”
Justin chuckled behind Blake. “I’m not as famished as Lord Ravenspear and would rather change clothes before I eat.”
Justin winked at Victoria, then followed Mr. Kent up the staircase.
Stepping forward, Blake took Victoria’s elbow and led her through a set of French doors to the dining room. The sideboard was laden with steaming dishes, and the delicious aromas made her empty stomach growl once again.
His head snapped to her face. “Have you not eaten?”
“There was no time on the journey.”
Blake frowned. “The coachman should have stopped at an inn.”
She ignored his brusque tone and, not seeing any servants, picked up a plate on the end of the sideboard and helped herself.
“Eat more,” he growled, grabbing the plate from her hand and spooning an enormous portion of eggs on it. “There’s very little to you as is, and I’ll not be accused by your family of starving you.”
Victoria glared at him. “Of all the things they fear I will endure at your hands, I doubt starvation is one of them.”
She plucked the plate from his hand and sat at the table. Snapping open a starched white napkin, she spread it across her lap. He had arrived at his town house only ten minutes ago, and already his high-handed behavior irritated her.
She waited until Blake filled his own plate and sat at the table before raising the topic that had been on her mind since he announced they would be returning to London.
“You do realize, my lord, that bringing me back to London puts me in close proximity to my family.”
Blake set down his fork and met her eyes. “Do you miss them, Victoria? If you do, I can arrange for them to visit. I extended the same offer to you once at Rosewood, but you never mentioned it. I’m speaking of your brother and mother, of course.” He cocked his head to one side, then laughed ruefully. “But not your father. I cannot allow that man in my home.”
Victoria was taken aback by his earnest tone. While at Rosewood, she had wanted to take him up on his offer, but she knew her father would never allow Spencer or her mother to visit Blake’s country residence. But now that she was back in London, things had changed, and she needed desperately to see her brother.
She cast her eyes downward and then gave Blake her most innocent look. “I do miss Spencer terribly and would love to see him, but I do not feel comfortable having my brother visit me here…at a bachelor’s home. I’d like to see him elsewhere.”
“Of course. I shall accompany you. There is an inn with a private dining room that serves excellent fare. I know the owner.”
Victoria’s brain worked feverishly. She didn’t want Blake present when she met Spencer.
How would she pass her brother the information she had gathered?
“I’d prefer to meet Spencer alone,” she said.
“Are you worried about your brother’s temper?”
“Not Spencer’s, but yours.”
“I told you before, I have no hard feelings toward Spencer.”
“You may change your mind when he accuses you of acting the whoreson for what you have done. I do not desire fisticuffs between you two.”
“I see,” Blake said, his posture stiff at her choice of words. “And do you think I’ve acted so cruelly towards you?”
She regarded him thoughtfully across the table. “You’ve made your intentions clear, my lord. I’m not an idiot to assume we are back in London simply because you’ve missed the social whirl.”
His handsome features hardened like granite. “I’ve never doubted your intelligence. Go alone, then, and give my regards to your brother.”
Blake rose abruptly, tossed his napkin on the table and left the room.
Victoria waited until she heard his booted feet cross the marble vestibule before summoning Mr. Kent for a coach.
“Vicki! I’ve missed you so much!”
Victoria returned her brother’s warm embrace and buried her face in his collar. The coarse wool scratched her cheek, but she didn’t care. “It’s good to see you again too, Spencer.”
Spencer held her at arm’s length and studied her from the tips of her shoes to the top of her head. “How awful has it been? Has Ravenspear harmed you in any way?”
Victoria quickly shook her head. “No, Spencer. You must believe me when I tell you I am fine, and that he has behaved as a gentleman.”
“I don’t believe you,” Spencer said, his brow furrowing. “Why are you protecting him?”
“I’m not.”
“Are you telling me that he did not touch you inappropriately…did not bed you?” he asked, his eyes downcast, clearly uncomfortable.
Victoria felt her face burn. She didn’t want to discuss such a humiliating topic with her own brother, but she sensed that it was critical that Spencer understand she had not been assaulted.
“Blake has not touched me,” she said. “I swear it.”
“You’re still a virgin? But why?” Amazement flickered across his boyish features. “I know he is attracted to you. The day he came for you, I saw the lust in his eyes when he looked at you.”
Again, Victoria struggled to overcome her embarrassment. “Up until now I thought he was using me simply to hurt Father. Blake believed that the mere fact that I was under his roof night after night would be sufficient to torture father.”
“Up till now?”
“He seems to have reached the end of his patience. I believe we’ve returned to London so he can publicly reveal my disgrace.”
Spencer clenched his fists at his sides. “I’ll kill him with my bare hands. I was hoping the coward would accompany you today so I could beat him to a bloody pulp.”
Victoria was momentarily speechless. The notion that Spencer could best Ravenspear was ludicrous. She vividly recalled Blake’s pugilistic pastime and ability, but she would never hurt her brother’s feelings by telling him what she thought.
“There is a better way. Violence is not necessary to hurt him.” Victoria pulled the piece of paper she had secreted in her reticule and handed it to Spencer.
He unfolded the paper and scanned the contents. His brows creased as he read her notes about Blake’s investments. Comprehension dawned, and he looked at Victoria in amazement. “You’re joking. The arrogance of the man.”
“Give it to Father. He’ll know what to do.”
“In the past I’ve always hated the way Father and Jacob Hobbs have conducted business. But this is one time I’m grateful for their ruthless business practices. I’ll gladly help them any way I can.”
“Then my work is done,” she said. “Father should be satisfied.”
Victoria studied her shoes as an uncomfortable emotion flooded her.
Shame?
Disappointment in herself?
She wasn’t sure what she felt, but she had not expected such a heavy sense of dread after following through with her father’s plans. She had told herself a hundred times that she had to protect herself.
Wouldn’t Blake do the same if their situations were reversed?
Spencer raised her downcast chin with a finger. “I’m sorry, Vicki, for not considering what you must have suffered to obtain this information. Come with me now. You do not have to return to him.”
“Where would I go? I doubt Father or Mother would allow me to return home.”
“We can leave London together,” Spencer said, gripping her limp hands. “It would take Blake months to find us, and by then we could set sail for America.”
“Oh, Spencer.” Victoria reached out to touch a lock of blond hair that had fallen over his forehead. Spencer had always been a dreamer—t
he free spirit and easy-loving brother of her youth.
“Where would we go?” she asked. “How would we survive? What funds do we have to even purchase our fare on a ship?”
“You think too much, Vicki. We’ll find a way. I can earn our fare at the tables.”
“Gambling? Have you been successful lately?”
There was no need to even ask if Spencer had been gambling since her departure. She suspected that without her guidance, he was more drawn to the cards than before.
A sad expression crossed his face. “Alas, no. My luck turned when you left.”
What luck? she thought to herself. “How bad?”
He shrugged. “Not too much.”
“How bad?”
“Slayer’s men have been hounding me.”
“Slayer!” Shock flew through Victoria at the mention of the infamous moneylender’s name. Rumors of his barbaric tactics, of physically assaulting desperate borrowers who could not repay his exorbitant rates of interest, raised the hair on her neck. “How have you been able to avoid Slayer’s lackeys?”
It was then that she noticed Spencer’s appearance, really noticed it. In the unforgiving light of the afternoon, her older brother appeared gaunt, much thinner than she recalled. His clothing hung loosely on his frame, the heavily padded jacket appeared ill-proportioned on his slender torso. His classically handsome features were now fine-boned, his green eyes glassy and his fair hair dull. Fine lines creased his forehead and the corners of his eyes.
Victoria reached out to touch his arm. “Oh, Spencer. They have been after you, haven’t they? And I haven’t been here to help you.”
A strange choking sound came from Spencer’s throat, and he raised a hand to cover his eyes. Victoria suspected it took great control for him not to cry.
Spencer took a shuddering breath. “The truth is I’m in trouble, Vicki. I’m glad you’re back in London now, even if you can’t stay at home.”
“We shall visit the Exchange. It’s time Uncle Sheldon checked on his investments.”
Spencer looked up, his eyes watery with unshed tears. “Thank you. It seems my younger sister is constantly rescuing me.”
That’s because I am. Victoria frowned at her thoughts. “Pass the information I gave you on to Father. We shall meet at the Exchange in a week.”
Blake was sampling his second brandy while gazing out the bay window of White’s when Justin found him.
“You won’t believe what has occurred,” Justin announced. Out of breath and obviously frazzled, Justin collapsed in an empty wingback chair across from Blake.
Blake set down his glass. “Whatever it is, it doesn’t sound good.”
“It’s not. Charles Ashton and Jacob Hobbs have abruptly stopped selling to Illusory Enterprises.”
“What items precisely?”
“Everything,” Justin said, leaning forward. “No high-pressure pistons, no piston rods, no replacement parts. Every future order has been spit back in our faces.”
“Damn,” Blake cursed. “How much is this going to cost me?”
“Like I said before, Ashton’s company is the only manufacturer in England of the steel pistons we require. We can order from other manufacturers in Europe, but there would be weeks of delay plus the exorbitant cost of shipping and tariffs. The loss in profits will be high, but fortunately you are diversified enough to survive. The bulk of your wealth will not be affected.”
“Why?” Blake growled. “Why would that greedy cutthroat stop selling to Illusory Enterprises? There was sufficient profit in it for him. He must have discovered the truth, the sham behind the company name. And the only way that could have happened is if there is a spy amongst us.”
“A spy?” Justin asked, frowning. “But who?”
“Who else knew of the deal?”
Justin rubbed his eyes as he struggled to recall. “Other than you and me, only your solicitors that filed the legal documents to create the company.”
“I have used the Weinstein and Brooks firm at the Inns of Court for years. Our dealings have always been strictly confidential. It makes no sense for them to steal this information and risk ruining their reputation and losing one of their clients,” Blake said.
“Perhaps it was one of the firm’s clerks or secretaries.”
“Highly improbable.”
“Then we need to retrace our steps,” Justin said. “The only other opportunity a spy would have had to steal such information is if they found where the documents themselves were stored.”
“You think one of my servants is guilty?”
Justin shrugged. “I’m at a loss.”
A sudden anger lit Blake’s eyes. The thought of someone in his own household stealing from him made his temper flare, but the knowledge that the stolen information benefited Charles Ashton caused Blake’s anger to singe the corners of his control.
Blake stood abruptly and reached for his jacket. “Whoever the traitor is, I will hunt him out. God help the Judas when I catch him.”
Chapter 21
A town house is much smaller than a country estate. It made the search for a spy easier.
Blake’s eyes adjusted to the darkness as he watched Victoria, dressed in a white nightgown and satin slippers, tiptoe down the hallway into his library and quietly shut the door.
The maid’s utility closet at the end of the corridor, with the door cracked slightly open, provided a perfect view of the hallway, specifically the entrance to his library office. But the space was tiny, crammed with cleaning supplies, and made Blake feel like a thief in his own home.
He sighed and leaned his forehead against the doorframe. His elbow knocked aside a broom, and the handle bumped his head. He nearly laughed out loud but caught himself.
He still couldn’t believe Victoria was the spy, the traitor who had cost him thousands of pounds and helped enlighten his greatest enemy.
He had been observing her for a week now. Always she waited until nighttime, until she was certain the household was asleep, before venturing out to conduct her activities.
At first he had been livid. After all, his temper when crossed could be almost uncontrollable. He attributed his short fuse to the years he spent as an abused laborer beneath the cruel taskmasters in the poorhouse. It had taken all of Blake’s control not to confront Victoria that first night she had slithered down the hallway into his office.
But then cold, calculating logic had cleared his brain of anger. His books and files were a complicated matter, and the fact that Victoria had been able to sort through the voluminous documents and discover not only that Illusory Enterprises was Blake’s subsidiary, but also that the sham company was buying steel pistons from her father and Hobbs, was stunning.
He had come to recognize her intelligence over the past months she had been with him, but her latest ability was even more enlightening. It meant she had business exposure, specifically dealing with companies, their subsidiaries and the London Stock Exchange.
The shock of this discovery dulled some of the fury he had felt, and he grudgingly admitted that he admired her for her savvy and her guts. He wanted to confront her and demand she explain how she had such knowledge, but something held him back.
Victoria had already revealed his biggest secret to her father, yet she still visited Blake’s library every night. There was something else she was searching for, and Blake needed to learn what that was.
His gut told him to remain silent and follow her closely to see what she was up to. Then he would have the satisfaction of a face-to-face reckoning.
He knew he should be furious. She had fooled him, sneaked through his most private papers and helped her father harm his interests. All the while, she had sat with him over meals and smiled sweetly, innocently, duping him into thinking he held the upper hand. The urge to tear her apart should be there. But it was not. The answer to one nagging question quenched such a need.
What would he have done if he was in her position?
The same or wors
e, he mused.
So instead of an uncontrollable rage, he felt an uncontrollable lust.
The library door opened and Victoria peeked out. Looking both ways to see if anyone was about, and once convinced she was alone, she ventured forth. She held a single candle and, combined with the candles in the wall sconces, her path was illuminated.
She stood still as she slowly closed the library door behind her so as not to make a sound. The lace-trimmed satin nightgown hid little of her form. The glimmering candlelight made it look sheer.
He could make out her profile—a slender leg, the curve of a tempting buttock and a trim waist. Her long dark hair was loose and curled around a full breast. She was as close to naked as he had ever seen her and yet, the fact that she was not only excited him more. His blood flowed hot in his veins, and he felt himself swell and harden with desire.
The outline of her enticing buttocks through the silk as she walked down the corridor made beads of perspiration form on his brow.
He was stuffed in the damn utility closet, hard as a rock, sweating like a pig, and anger was the last thing on his mind. All he could think of was tasting, touching and teasing the one woman he had foolishly sworn not to.
Blake opened the closet door and stretched his cramped muscles. He needed a good stiff drink, then laughed out loud at the mere notion that anything “stiff” was what he needed.
Climbing the main staircase two at a time, Blake shut his bedroom door and stripped off his damp shirt.
One thing was certain: she was up to something more. The damage had been done regarding any dealings he had conducted with Ashton and Hobbs.
So what else are you looking for, sweet Victoria?
His pulse pounded with anticipation, and he looked forward to outmaneuvering her this time.
The truth was he couldn’t wait to discover all her secrets.
By the end of the week, Victoria had gathered everything she needed and met Spencer in the lobby of the Exchange.
Unlike her previous visit, it was busy today, and brokers and their clients crowded the lobby. Many businessmen stood, since the sparsely furnished area had limited seating.
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