Temptations of Anna Jacobs

by Robyn DeHart

  He’s your bastard!

  Her words had reached past the door to the corridor where Drew had hidden during his parents’ argument. They’d fought on, but those words had echoed in Drew’s head and he’d been unable to hear any more of the conversation. He tried to console himself by acknowledging it was good that he finally knew the truth. Now he knew why his mother treated him so very differently than she treated his brothers.

  Knowing the truth didn’t ease the pain so he’d got angry and when she yelled at him, he’d simply yelled back. Eventually he’d started drinking and discovered that it numbed him from the pain, from the anger.

  He’d tried for years to forget. Forget he was nothing more than a walking reminder of his father’s philandering. Forget that the woman who raised him had never treated him even as kindly as she did her servants. Nothing ever made him forget that he was nothing more than a damned mistake—a product of an affair that ultimately ruined two marriages.

  Drew had attempted to fight the truth, but he’d given up years ago. There was darkness inside him, probably because of the origin of his birth. And no matter what, that darkness seemed to find a way out. The bottle had merely been the most destructive path he’d found. He was weak against the drink. Because no matter how hard he tried he’d never found anything that could keep the darkness at bay for any length of time.

  Being with Anna came pretty damn close, though. It was as if with her came the sunshine in an otherwise gloomy, rainy day. But he certainly couldn’t pursue his interest in her any further.

  She was a genteel lady and he was unworthy; he was a duke’s bastard son, something his mother refused to let him forget. She’d seen to it to remind him of that very fact in his own home.

  Drew jotted down his notes and then left Scotland Yard, but instead of heading in the direction of his townhome, he went instead to Simon’s. There was so much to study in those notes that certainly he could have missed something. And perhaps he needed merely to start from scratch to figure out first what was different with this new victim and second how the Ripper had found it so bloody easy to pin the murders on Drew.

  There were clues to investigate. Where Drew had been, whom he had spoken to. The man had even killed a serving girl from a pub he frequented. Drew had been drunk and had made unwanted advances, as he was wont to do when he imbibed too much, and the girl had struck him and had been sent home from work early. The Ripper had found her and ravaged her.

  She had been the final piece of evidence that had put Drew into prison to begin with. Perhaps he needed to start there. But damned if he wasn’t afraid to go back to the pub. Afraid of being too close to the drink, too close to his old life and the friends he used to spend his time with.

  Simon had looked into Drew’s two closest friends to see if they could be the killer, but they had both been cleared. So it had to have been an acquaintance he made somewhere along the way. An enemy, perhaps, since he’d certainly been keen on putting Drew away.

  Upon Drew’s arrival at the townhome, Simon’s butler gave him entrance and Drew found his way to Simon’s study. He took a seat at the table and opened the notebooks, then thought better of it and opened his own notebook. He started with the first murder from Mayfair, the maid from his brother’s house who had been savaged right in the alleyway behind their family home. Drew looked at the date and then jotted down everything he could remember about that time. It had been May and he couldn’t remember much more. Damn the bloody drink and the memories it stole from his mind.

  He’d always had a rather shrewd mind, and to not be able to recall specific days was alarming. He proceeded to consider the second murder in Mayfair, the servant girl who’d been killed at the ball in the gardens. Drew had been to that ball, though he hadn’t stayed long. Richards had wanted to go to their club, Hennings, to see a fight, so they’d left early.

  Drew kept up this pattern, looking at the murders he’d been accused of and then trying to find something that would associate the time with where he might have been. But there were so many holes in his recollections.

  The best evidence was the pub itself. Certainly he could be man enough to be in a pub and not drink, but he knew it would be the biggest challenge he had faced. Thus far he’d managed to work in this study and not imbibe Simon’s brandy. But he wanted to. It was only the thought that at any minute Anna could walk in to do her studies that kept him from crossing the room and pouring a glass. In a pub, though, he’d have no such defense, no such reason to abstain.

  Which left him with the tobacco. He withdrew the notes that Mia and Alex had given him and read through them. Including the names of the people from Rickman’s Tobacco and Supplies who had purchased the tobacco blend that Drew had always preferred. He knew of the other shop that carried the same blend. Perhaps tomorrow he would pay them a visit to see if any new names rose to the surface. And perhaps he’d spend some more time looking at the candidates that Alex hadn’t been able to locate. Certainly there was some additional information that would come forth.

  Across the room Drew could see the decanter sitting on the shelf behind Simon’s desk. The amber liquid sat mocking him. He knew the precise smell, the precise flavor and the sting it would have sliding down his throat. Damn if he didn’t miss the stuff. Since it was dinnertime, he knew that Anna would not likely arrive for her studies. Tonight, he was on his own.

  But he refused to be so bloody weak. He could do this. He could fight this and come out on the other side.

  He came to his feet and walked to the decanter. Without another thought he picked it up, took off the lid and then poured it out the window. As a drop fell onto his finger and he brought it to his nose and inhaled slowly, the sweet scent nearly made him dizzy. He wiped his hand on his trousers, then set the decanter down. He’d have to buy Simon some new brandy when he returned to London. But at least for the time being he didn’t have to look at it anymore.

  Chapter Twelve

  Drew knew it was likely too late in the evening to make such a personal call, but this was official business. He made his way up the front steps of Anna’s family townhome and rapped the knocker against the black door.

  A butler opened it and eyed him suspiciously. “Yes?” the man asked. He looked down on Drew over a pair of spectacles. “May I assist you in some fashion?”

  “I’m here to see Lady Annabelle,” Drew said.

  “And who might I say is calling?”

  “Andrew Foster. My brother is the Duke of Carrington.” He added that last bit to see if it would give him more leverage.

  “I see. Very well, you may find Lady Annabelle at the Trenton ball on Winslow Street,” the butler said with a nod.

  “Excellent. My thanks.” Drew turned and got back in his rig. Without another thought he gave the driver the address to Lord and Lady Trenton’s townhome. He hadn’t been to a ball since before he’d gone to prison. That night at the theatre, the first night he’d met Anna, had been a test to see how he could fare in Society. She had not been the only person to judge him that night, though she had been the only one to speak her mind. Further, she had judged him for different reasons than the rest of them—she’d never believed him a murderer. Odds were his brother and Mia would be at this ball, so if people misbehaved toward him, he could always seek out Alex. Drew was used to being in Alex’s shadow.

  Drew would find Anna and seek her assistance. It could wait until the following day, but tonight he had to see her, had to be near her, if for only a moment.

  ***

  Anna stood near some potted ferns not far from where her mother sat with her two dearest friends. They were, no doubt, gossiping about the fashion choices of the evening and which couples had escaped onto the balconies, but Anna wasn’t paying close enough attention to be certain. It wouldn’t matter; they said the same things over and over again when together.

  This was the price she paid for medical school.
While her mother repeatedly requested Anna quit schooling, she’d never once threatened to pull the funding. She only required that Anna attend one Society function a week in exchange for her tuition. This week it was the Trenton ball, one of the Season’s most highly anticipated events.

  A footman walked by her and Anna nearly tackled the man to grab one of the remaining glasses of champagne. She smiled sweetly when he looked at her agog. The bubbly liquid teased her nose and lips when she brought the glass in for a sip. The chilled drink burned down her throat.

  “Annabelle,” her mother hissed. “Honestly, child, you really ought to stop that woolgathering and pay attention.”

  Anna stepped closer to her mother. “What is it?”

  “Isn’t that Mr. Foster over there?” Her mother used her fan as if it were an arrow and pointed across the ballroom.

  There stood Drew, looking more dashing than any other man in the room despite his lack of formal attire. He wore no waistcoat, no cravat, merely his tweed trousers and linen shirt with an overcoat. His eyes lit on hers and his lips quirked in a grin.

  Her heart responded in kind, flipping slightly, and she had to fight to hold back an audible sigh. Good heavens, what was happening to her?

  “We shall soon find out; he’s coming this way,” Lady Davies said.

  He did in fact begin to walk in her direction, but was stopped by two gentlemen who seemed pleased to see him. “Mother, please,” Anna said. And, bless her mother’s heart, she gathered her friends.

  “Come along, ladies, I believe it is time for us to peruse the refreshment table.”

  “But I’m not thirsty,” Lady Davies proclaimed.

  “Nonetheless, escort me,” her mother insisted.

  Lady Wickersham might hover too closely most of the time, but when an eligible man was in sight, she knew when to flee. Anna tried to think of what she should say when he finally resumed his trek across the ballroom. She absently patted her hair, making certain her curls remained in place.

  “Eloise, is that not your son?” a woman’s voice said from behind her.

  “Yes, that is Andrew. Good Lord, look at the way he is dressed.” The woman clicked her tongue. “Insufferable man. It’s embarrassing.”

  Anna turned her body so that she could better hear the exchange. Certainly that was not Drew’s mother speaking so poorly of him—although she had seemed to call him by name.

  “He looked to be walking this way before those young men stopped him,” the first woman said. “I do hope he won’t embarrass you.”

  “He’s been embarrassing me since the day he was born,” the other woman said.

  Without a thought, Anna whipped around to face the two women. “I find it rather appalling that you would speak so cruelly of your own son.”

  The dowager duchess nearly stepped backward. “How dare you—”

  “How dare me? You’re the one spouting wretched things in public where other people can quite obviously hear you. Andrew Foster is a decent man. He’s intelligent and driven and kind; qualities he certainly inherited from someone other than yourself.”

  The dowager’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know who you think you are, but I would ask you to kindly apologize to me for speaking such a way.”

  “It is you who owes the apology.” Anna glared at the woman. She was so angry, she was tempted to box the offensive woman’s ears.

  And then he was there, standing before her, and Anna could swear that everyone in the ballroom collectively gasped. “Hello,” she managed.

  His eyes boldly took in her form, and it was in that moment she remembered what she was wearing. Unlike her day dresses, which were modestly cut and worked to hide her curves, this dress, a gown of sapphire blue, was designed to accentuate her female form.

  “You look stunning,” he said. There was none of his usual jesting tone in that sentence. He then looked over at the dowager. “Mother,” he said simply.

  “Andrew.” She nodded in return. “I don’t know who this creature is,” she seethed through her teeth, “but she should be taught to keep her tongue in her head.”

  “This creature is the lady I’ve come to dance with,” he said. “If you’ll excuse me.” He pulled Anna into his arms and spun her out onto the dance floor.

  The warmth of his hands on her distracted her thoughts. And it didn’t escape her attention that he wore no gloves. But she mustn’t allow such a thing to prevent her from asking about his wretched mother. “That is it? That is all you are going to say to her?” she asked.

  He glanced over his shoulder to where his mother stood, then turned his focus back on Anna. “There is nothing more to say.”

  “Perhaps you believe that because you did not hear all the wretched things she said about you.”

  He shrugged. “I’ve heard them all before.” He looked directly in her eyes, and she nearly forgot what they were talking about. “Anna, you don’t need to defend me.”

  “Someone should.”

  “No, it’s truly not necessary.”

  “Everyone needs defending every now and then.” They danced in silence for a few measures. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to find you.”

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing happened. I merely wanted to see you.” Again he looked at her appreciatively, then he gave her a wolfish grin. “That’s a very pretty dress.”

  She smiled like a goose. “Thank you.” He was an excellent dancer, and in his arms she forgot all of the times she’d stood at the edge of the ballroom watching all the other girls dance. She ventured a glance up to his face. “You are staring at my bosom,” she hissed.

  His eyes slid up to meet hers. “Is that not the point of a dress cut this revealing?”

  It was, she knew that. It was why her mother had insisted upon ordering it. Her mother’s efforts to marry her off never failed to try her patience, but tonight it went beyond that—Anna felt quite exposed. Normally she wore these dresses and knew that it wouldn’t matter; men didn’t generally give her a second look. But Drew was practically devouring her with his eyes. The resulting effect on her was twofold; she was embarrassed yet utterly gratified.

  She was so used to Drew, the inspector, that she had almost forgot he was raised a gentleman and knew all the social conventions, like dancing. He was graceful and commanding in the ballroom and his warm hand at the small of her back was proving quite distracting.

  “Drew, why are you here? Honestly?”

  “I need assistance. I need to be able to discuss the investigation with someone who will listen to my theories and not immediately dismiss them because I’m inexperienced. Your brother—”

  “Is in Scotland, remember? I suppose you could telegraph him,” she said.

  “No, you misunderstand. I merely meant that were Simon here, I know he’d listen to me. But he’s not, and the only other person I can think of who would extend me the same courtesy is you.”

  “Oh,” she whispered. His request was thrilling, both because she’d longed to assist on an investigation and also because it meant he wanted to spend more time with her. And that he trusted her, at least to some extent.

  “Would you help me?”

  There was such earnestness in his tone that Anna knew she wouldn’t have been able to say no even had she wanted to. “Of course.”

  Again silence fell between them as they followed the beat of the music with their bodies. When Drew saw Anna turn to face his mother, he had known he had to get across the room to her, before his mother told Anna the truth about Drew. He had no way of knowing precisely what was said between them, but he couldn’t risk Anna uncovering his secret. Not tonight. Not when he’d come for her help.

  Because it wasn’t simply her assistance that he needed, but the solace being in the same space as her provided him. He couldn’t explain it, but when he was
around Anna, he found it easier to forget his craving for a drink. There was something about her company that he desired.

  “Things could have been different between us,” he said before he thought better of it.

  “Whatever do you mean?”

  He had to answer her; else he knew she’d never let it go. And he’d brought it up. That was another effect of being her presence: saying precisely what was on his mind. “Had we met under different circumstances.” And had he not been the bastard son of the Duke of Carrington. “I would have gone to see your brother, the viscount, and sought his permission to court you.”

  Her eyes widened and she sucked in a breath.

  “I would have sought you out at balls and made certain my name was written down on at least three of your dances. And I would have brought you lemonade.” He paused a moment, trying to talk himself out of telling her all of this. “I would have taken you riding in the park and to the museum to see the newest Egyptian antiquities.”

  “Indeed?” His admission left her breathless.

  “Yes. Why is that surprising?”

  “You simply do not seem the sort to jump through Societal hoops, especially for the likes of me.”

  “You are precisely the one I would do such nonsense for.”

  “I would have said yes,” she whispered. “To all of those things.”

  She looked up at him with something akin to wonder gleaming in her eyes. Her lips parted, and with every breath, her bosom seemed to rise closer and closer to him.

  “I will likely call on you tomorrow to discuss details of the investigation, as this is neither the time nor place.”

  She nodded.

  “I do hate to end our dance early, but I’m afraid that if I don’t I might just kiss you right here on this dance floor,” he said.

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “I most certainly would. You look good enough to eat in that dress.” He flashed her a smile and then he stepped away from her and disappeared into the crowd milling by the doors.

  He exhaled when he reached the outside, thankful for the chilled evening air. He hadn’t been lying about any of it, especially wanting to kiss her, but it seemed damned foolish to have told her all of that. He’d never had the desire to court any woman. He’d come into his manhood knowing he was a bastard and hadn’t wanted to sully any of the genteel women with his dirty hands. So he’d spent his time seducing willing servant girls and barmaids.