Thank heavens, Michael took pity upon him. “Would you three stop it? You’re embarrassing Sherwyn.” He turned to Laura. “I blame you for this unladylike behaviour. You compare every man to the ones written about in those risqué sensational novels you buy. Men won’t see you as innocents. They’ll consider you women of the world and try to take advantage.”
Laura smirked. “I, for one, am glad we’re not ignorant girls. We’ve met enough cads, from both the lower and higher classes, that we’ll not fall under the spell of any sweet-talking man. At least, not ever again.”
Cayle’s senses prickled as all eyes turned to him. He felt like a fox caught in the hen house. Or a lone duck surrounded by sharp shooters.
“Isn’t that true?” Laura asked the question but they all stared at their elder sister. Her normally pale complexion had washed out to the gray of bed sheets at a slovenly inn.
Lottie shuffled closer to her sister’s rigid form. “Laura meant no disrespect,” she murmured. She unfolded Becca’s fingers, one by one, until they released their grip on the muslin folds of her skirt.
Cayle stepped closer to hear Lottie’s soft words.
“You did nothing wrong, Becca.” The sunlit colour of Lottie’s hair against her sister’s cheek made Becca’s face appear even whiter. “You couldn’t have prevented what happened.”
A small, strained silence settled. He took the chance to ask at least one of his questions. “What did happen?” No one spoke. “Is this to do with that scoundrel Bennett?”
Aunt Aggie tut-tutted loudly several times and shot him a withering look. Mistrustful gazes speared him from every direction. Apparently, they linked him with Becca and Bennett. Accusation and blame showed on every face. Especially Becca’s.
She’d been his best friend, the one he turned to when escaping his father’s wrath. And he’d do anything to see her expression turn from misery to joy. Even perhaps, embrace another scandal.
Becca gave Michael a small nod. A sign to continue their discussion.
“The consortium wants our journals. Those stock forecasts took us months to correlate. We need the income from them as desperately as the syndicate does. If Laura and Lottie are to — ”
“Michael!” Becca snapped at her brother. “Cayle doesn’t need to know every detail of our lives.”
“On the contrary. The better informed I am, the better chance I’ll have of insinuating myself into the outer coterie. And then, hopefully, the inner circle. Isn’t that what you wish me to do?”
Becca glared at Cayle, not willing to give an inch.
Laura grinned. “I’m sure Cayle can be trusted to keep all our secrets. Our lists are predictions of new railway tracks being laid. When and where. In England or abroad. If the consortium uses those lists and beats us to the punch, it will be like stealing our money. And the money of all the minor investors.”
“Those small investors will also become liabilities.” Lottie shook her golden hair. “Expendable. Like us.”
Tears trickled down Aunt Aggie’s plump cheeks. “Dozens of families will be destitute. Thrown out of their lodgings. Children will starve.”
“So what are those men you employ doing?”
Becca grimaced. “Visiting places that ladies are unable to go. Collecting information from banks, newspapers, and share record offices.”
“Mr. Brown followed the baron to his meeting with Lord Stevens and Lord Lindley at a tavern on the east side,” Laura said. “There were three others whom Mr Brown labelled disreputable. His boys asked in the nearby alehouses. Those roughnecks dig into the pasts of everyone who defies the syndicate. Gambling debts. Mistresses. The consortium then blackmails people into joining them, or keeping quiet.”
Michael scowled. “Which is why they’ve allowed me some breathing room. They searched Peggy’s cottage not only for the ledgers but to find some scandalous information. About us. Or her.”
Becca’s moan cut Cayle to the quick. When he caught the killer, and he would, the man would suffer. For Peggy’s murder and for tormenting Becca.
“But our dear, dear Peggy held no horrid secrets.” Aunt Aggie sniffed and groped for her soggy handkerchief. “She was another innocent pawn in their nasty games.”
“We’re now sure the inner circle started this blackmail scheme,” Laura said. “People are coerced into handing over money. With no written security. In exchange, their secrets are supposed to remain hidden. I doubt that legitimate share certificates are even issued.”
“Aunt Aggie and I learned on Bond Street that the leaders target a wide range of the community,” Lottie said. “They visit all the major shopkeepers to coerce them into investing their nest eggs.”
“The syndicate will be pressuring the Exchange.” Cayle addressed the room in general. “Have they bought any stock certificates before the official release dates?”
Becca eyed him with suspicion. “Such a large group may be forcing the Exchange to bend the rules. Or bribing them. We don’t know yet.” Becca walked over to him. “So how do you know so much about it?”
Michael eyed Cayle with mistrust. “Yes. You seem to have plenty of ideas on what the syndicate is doing.”
Cayle shrugged. “Becca and I have already discussed your journals. And the battle over share certificates.”
“I don’t remember saying — ”
“You were a little flustered at the time.”
• • •
Becca scowled at him. Damn the man!
The cad was daring her to retaliate in front of her family. He’d thrown her into a spin with talk of kissing or tasting her. She’d trembled when he’d sniffed her neck and touched his lips to hers. Heat was creeping up her neck. Again.
“I was not flustered.” She willed her flush to cool and recede.
“Very well, I lied.”
A collective gasp sounded around the room.
“Becca revealed so little that it aroused my suspicions. So I asked some friends to do more investigating after Becca left.”
“But it was the middle of the night.” She heard herself admit that aloud and wished the ground would open up and swallow her.
Aunt Aggie squawked, a cross between shock and horror. “Young lady, we shall discuss that impropriety later.”
Becca glared at Cayle. Aunt Aggie wasn’t a true stickler for propriety but she insisted that her nieces adhere to some of the rules of good behaviour in order to protect them. An unchaperoned visit to a gentleman’s home in the middle of the night broke every rule. The duke smiled at her. The manipulative man was fully aware of the hornet’s nest he’d stirred.
“I know your major income comes from transport. Factories building engines and railways.”
“How did you find that out in the middle of the night?” Becca forgot that her family were listening and adopted her most sarcastic tone. “I imagine you were compelled to visit several brothels before you found enough drunken gentlemen to speak with. Or perhaps the prostitutes were willing to share things with a wealthy duke.”
“Rebecca!” Aunt Aggie cried. “Please remember your innocent sisters are present.”
Michael snickered. “Innocent — ” he began, to be cut off by Aunt Aggie’s withering look. “Beg your pardon, aunt. But one can hardly call Laura and Lottie innocent.”
Cayle edged closer to Becca to murmur so only she could hear, “And no, my green-eyed friend, I didn’t visit any brothels in person. I left that entertainment to my friends.”
She gasped before whispering back to him, grateful that the attention of her family was focused on her aunt. “If you’re insinuating I’m in any way jealous, you’re mistaken. You may visit as many women as you feel necessary to relieve your — ” She waved a hand. “Your problem.”
“My sweet, my interest is focused entirely on one woman. You!”
Becca shook her head and then stepped away from him as he resumed the discussion by announcing to her family, “I’ve just assured Becca that it was my friends who called in to S
cotland Yard for the latest details on Peggy’s death. And who informed me about your railway interests. So now, I’m eager to know more.”
Four sets of eyes watched them with concentration and four sets of ears followed the conversation with amusement.
“It was wrong of you, Becca, to downplay the danger. When I mistook your disguise to be the costume of a common street walker — ”
Aunt Aggie waved her damp handkerchief. “Pray continue. You mistook our innocent Becca — ”
“Innocent!” Cayle spluttered. “She led me on like — ” He had the grace to look embarrassed. “I’d over imbibed and my judgment was a trifle skewed.”
Aunt Agatha replied, “And yet, you still kissed her.”
Ignoring the collective gasps, he said in a strained voice, “Yes, I kissed Becca, after I realised who she was. Inexcusable behaviour.” He bowed to Michael. “I request an audience to discuss your sister’s future.” Ignoring Becca’s outraged gasp, he added, “In private.”
“No need for that,” Michael assured him. “I trust you.”
Becca’s irritation escalated threefold when Cayle attempted to take Michael’s arm and manoeuvre him towards the door. No doubt he sought a private discussion between gentlemen.
Employing her most mocking voice, she halted his departure. “Good gracious, Cayle. When did you become such a stickler for propriety?”
With a grim expression, he turned back to face them. “When my father died. When I inherited a title. When I became a duke.”
Silence reigned. Her family watched him with anticipation. When he failed to fulfil their expectations of information, Aunt Aggie began an animated recital of his recent family history for the benefit of Laura and Lottie.
“Growing up, you thumbed your nose at such conventions even more than the rest of us,” Becca said. “What happened?”
“If you must know, my stepmother happened.” He straightened his shoulders and tightened his jaw. “She alone is responsible for the unwanted changes in my life. My dedication to clearing the St. Martin name and improving the estates.”
From where she sat on the couch beside her sisters, Becca watched Cayle with sympathy. His back was plank straight, his chin held high. Yet his clenched fists and tight jaw told a different story. She’d grappled with other’s taunts all her life and practiced the very thing Cayle faced now, the need to protect oneself from ridicule. As anxious to end this conversation as he was, she drew attention away from him and back to her.
“We’ve no time to dwell on past events,” she said. “Laura must go to Green Park. Contrive some accidental meetings with anyone who attended Viscount Morrow’s dinner party last evening. We need proof that the viscount is part of the outer coterie. Aunt Aggie and Lottie — ”
“Yes, yes. We know,” Lottie interrupted. “We must endure tedious morning calls with every boring lady who attended the dinner. You are indebted to me for this, Becca. I detest morning calls that involve our loathsome cousin.”
Becca risked a sideways glance at Cayle, knowing the instant he registered just which cousin Lottie referred to. Always quick witted, his astuteness had probably increased tenfold in his years abroad. Another thing she must guard against. Avoiding him was the wisest course unless she needed specific information from him.
The last thing she wanted was to reveal all the Jamison family secrets. Or, to once again fall under the spell of his magnetism. His next question was inevitable, yet Becca was not prepared to answer it. The Jamison family were almost convinced of Julia’s involvement with the cache and its master planner, but she was, after all, part of the St. Martin family and therefore owed some latitude. At least until they could prove, or disprove, that Cayle’s manipulative stepmother was involved in illegal dealings.
“Is that it? Is it Julia? In all likelihood,” he said, “she plans on me being discovered in a compromising situation with her. She’s tried it before.”
“No,” Becca reassured him. It appears that Julia is content with her present paramour, whoever he may be, though she is most likely trying to control whom you marry. She needs a continuing flow of money to pay her debts.”
“You seem to know everything. So, can you tell me — is she gambling beyond her means again? Because I’d like to catch her at it. It would solve many of my problems if I could discredit her integrity.”
“From our observations, her gambling seems to be very circumspect when she attends balls and soirees.”
“That’s one relief, I suppose.”
“However, she has also visited gaming hells on several occasions. As unmarried ladies, we aren’t permitted the same access to them as a widow with a male escort does.”
“No, they’re not the sorts of establishments unmarried women can visit without damaging their reputations. So who is escorting Julia to these places at present?”
“She seems to use several gentlemen as escorts, yet — ”
“Yet?”
“The man who is her current lover remains a mystery. For some reason, she is determined to keep his identity a secret.”
• • •
Becca watched Cayle puzzle over the depth of Julia’s involvement, then transcend from bewilderment to full consciousness was a revelation. She’d no doubts that with his quick reasoning he had participated in many investigations and skirmishes and emerged unscathed.
He moved with the lithe grace of all the St. Martin men. Yet, as she’d discovered last night, his large body was hard and unyielding. His snug coat had undoubtedly been fashioned in France for it stretched across his broad shoulders and enclosed his muscled arms like a second skin. Trousers of the finest cloth hugged his thighs so closely that the fabric remained perfectly smooth despite his energetic movements.
After hours spent poring over Michael’s anatomy books, she and her sisters considered Sherwyn’s well-endowed form a prime example of the male species. To her dismay, even their roguish aunt had preened when Cayle made his bow.
While bent at the waist, the duke had unknowingly treated them, front and back, to an intriguing display of breeches stretched over strong thighs, a muscled derriere, and given them all a glimpse of other intimate areas. The male parts well-bred young ladies were forbidden to notice.
However, the inappropriateness of her sisters’ and aunt’s stares hadn’t caused the scowl now plastered across her face, because she’d reacted in exactly the same way to his display. For some unfathomable reason, the blatant admiration firing from three other sets of Jamison eyes had stirred Becca’s ire, seen her stabbing fingers claw a small hole in the settee’s upholstered arm.
In addition, her insides were stirring rather unpleasantly, her stomach rolling until she feared she’d have to scurry out the door. Feared her distressed stomach would require an embarrassing dash to the water closet.
Ridiculous for someone who never suffered a day’s sickness from one year to the next. Unbelievable for someone who’d never been troubled by missish upsets in her entire life.
Chapter 4
Cayle turned away, fists clenched at his sides. He should have guessed the haute ton would have gathered like vultures to pick over the bones of the St. Martin family. And as it had been Becca’s cousin who’d deliberately trapped him at a ball, Becca would have heard every detail a hundred times over.
Queen Victoria believed that gently bred young women should pretend blindness when confronted with the seedier side of the city. Hard to do when scandalous literature was sold in the Bond Street bookshops they visited and the girls lived with brothers who reeled in at all hours stinking of wine and cheap perfume. Preachers of morality may stand on every street corner, but the only ones close enough to listen were the prostitutes who hawked their wares in the same places.
Becca clapped her hands. “Go on. We haven’t much time.”
She waited until her sisters and aunt had set out on their allotted tasks before she said to Michael, “And you must return to Oxford. I promise we won’t take any risks.”
“Your university papers are due. Right now, your priority is finishing your degree. We’ll send for you and Jonathon if things get worse.”
Michael looked grim. He shook hands with Cayle and said, “Glad to know you’ll be around.”
“Rest assured, I’ll watch over your family. I’ll set more guards around the house at night. If the women must leave the house, they will either be under my escort or followed by my men.”
Becca rolled her eyes and clutched her chest. “Please. We’re only helpless ladies. We need a duke to save us.”
Anger roughened his voice until it sounded like wheels grinding on train tracks. “I understand your resentment. However, men are expected to protect. Women are expected to forgo independence and accept protection. You asked for my assistance. Therefore, Michael has my solemn promise that no harm shall befall you under my watch. Hate me if you must, but I intend taking charge of this operation.”
Michael said, “Be warned, Sherwyn, Becca can be prickly at times.”
“Michael! I am standing right here.”
Her brother chuckled. “But my sister will do whatever she is told. With good grace and as little argument as possible. Will you not, Becca?”
Becca, once again, rolled her eyes before sketching a curtsy. “My feeble female mind is relieved to have such an intelligent man take over.”
Michael groaned.
“But as I don’t want to worry my fretting brother any more, I will bend like a willow to Your Grace’s will.”
“Heaven help you, Sherwyn. When Becca becomes sarcastic, we all scurry for safety.”
After a commiserating look and a slap on the back for Cayle, Michael strode out the door.
• • •
As soon as they were alone, Becca fired the first shot.
“Thank you for your concern, Your Grace.”
Cayle cringed. Michael was correct about Becca in a haughty frame of mind. She was like a train engine, a compact red-headed steam-blowing version, who’d have the bravest of men shaking in their Wellingtons. He risked a small smile. This passionate parcel befuddled his senses and yet he felt more alive than he had in months.
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