Daring the Duke (The Seven Curses of London Book 7)

by Lana Williams

  “The logic of a spy is quite convoluted.”

  Rutland chuckled as the waiter brought his drink. He casually perused the area as Elijah had noted him doing at the previous meeting.

  Elijah had selected this table based on its distance from the other occupants in the room with the hope they could discuss the issue more freely. At least until someone chose a table nearby.

  “I have the address of the establishment that sold Lord Patterson the champagne.”

  “Well done.” Rutland nodded as Elijah handed him the paper on which he’d written the information. “I’ll have someone look into this to see what can be discovered, though we have no proof the drink was tainted.”

  “I thought of that as well,” Elijah admitted. “But we have to start somewhere.”

  “Choral, the reporter you met, came by my office earlier today with additional information. It seems that adding enhancements to alcohol is more widespread than we suspected. The practice is worse in the poorer neighborhoods, where it involves barkeeps diluting beer rather than enhancing it. However, several nicer taverns in middle-class areas have recently been accused of it.”

  “How was that discovered?”

  “A man who worked at a bank fell ill and died after indulging in several drinks at one of the establishments. His father is fairly well connected and suspected something was amiss due to his son’s behavior upon returning home. Further inquiries revealed he was not the only customer who died.”

  “How many?” The information brought a heightened level of concern to Elijah.

  “Five have been confirmed, not all from that night. It’s suspected there might be more who felt poorly, but few people like to admit they had one too many drinks with ill effects. Family and friends think they either can’t handle their booze or that something else was amiss. Rarely is the blame placed on the alcohol.”

  “I can see the dilemma.”

  “Choral has a reporter on the case who lives in the general vicinity of the tavern. It helps to have someone who is at least familiar with the locals. He’s working to gather names of suppliers who sell to the local taverns and restaurants. It will be interesting to see if any of them happen to match what you found.”

  “No wonder you like to stay in contact with reporters. They can be beneficial in cases like this.”

  “Especially when they have hope of a good headline. Did you hear of anyone else falling ill from the soiree?”

  “Hints of it, but those involved seem to have brushed it off as simply having too much to drink rather than unusual additives.”

  “I’ve run into the same thing.” Rutland leaned forward, keeping his voice low. “I’ve warned the manager of White’s and Brooks’ to keep on guard against such a possibility.”

  “Wise idea. Many overindulge here, and if something of a poisonous nature was added to the drinks, more than a few could end up dead.”

  “The prime minister suggests it’s one more reason to abstain.” Rutland raised his glass. “I think prohibition would create more problems than it would solve.”

  “Smugglers?”

  “Indeed. We’d have more work on our hands at the office than we could handle. Not to mention the general outcry from the public. But that’s merely my opinion.”

  “I have to agree,” Elijah said. “If only people wouldn’t try to take advantage and make money using dishonest tactics, regardless of the cost to others.” The idea of his mother possibly being harmed due to someone’s greed angered him.

  Rutland shook his head. “Things like this make it difficult to keep one’s faith in humanity.”

  “I’m certain you see far too much of such things in your line of work.”

  “At times, I wish everyone could see what I do. But then someone steps forward and does a good deed without a second thought.”

  “Do those moments restore your faith?” Elijah asked.

  “Restore some hope at least.” Rutland took another drink before holding Elijah’s gaze. “I hope none of the issues we’re working on have affected you personally.”

  Elijah wanted to shift in his chair. He couldn’t bring himself to share what was happening with his mother. Not that he didn’t trust Rutland. Perhaps if the man better understood Elijah’s concern, he could request more resources to resolve it.

  Somehow it felt like a betrayal of not only his mother but his father as well. Elijah couldn’t shrug off the idea that he should protect her from such things. Guilt kept him from explaining in any detail. “Closer than I’d like. But the realization that it’s hurt others makes it of even greater concern.”

  Rutland nodded. “I couldn’t agree more. It’s as if there is a tipping point when you realize your personal outrage affects a wider part of the population and something must be done.”

  They spoke for several minutes more before Rutland pushed back his chair. “I’ll advise you once we’ve taken a closer look at this address. Do let me know if you learn anything more.”

  “Of course. I appreciate your assistance with the issue.”

  “If you’ll excuse me, I am meeting my fiancée soon. It wouldn’t do to be late.”

  The smile on Rutland’s face as he took his leave had Elijah smiling as well. The man was obviously besotted and happy to be so.

  Elijah returned home and looked in the drawing room to where his mother was. Unfortunately, her needlework sat untouched in her lap again.

  He hid his sigh as she shifted her gaze from staring out the window to him. The sorrow in her eyes might not be as deep as it had been a few months ago, but it was there nonetheless.

  Instead of asking how she fared, he knelt beside her and took her hand in his to hold it gently. Then he waited, wondering if she’d share what was on her mind.

  “Some days are better than others, Elijah.”

  “Yes.” He’d certainly experienced that himself and continued to do so.

  “I miss your father so much.” Tears filled her eyes, causing his own emotions to well to the surface. “I ache with it.”

  “I miss him too.”

  She drew a trembling breath. “Some days, it feels like too much. How will I fill my life without him?”

  Elijah had no answer, so he held her, hoping it would somehow help.

  ~*~

  Julia poured tea that afternoon, adding a splash of cream and a spoonful of sugar in Lillian’s cup.

  “Perfect. Thank you,” Lillian said as she took the cup and settled into her chair, appreciating the moment. They’d decided to stay in rather than pay any calls, much to Lillian’s relief.

  “How are things progressing with the duke?” Julia studied her for a long moment before pouring herself a cup of tea.

  Caution seeped through Lillian as she took a sip, delaying an answer to first gather her thoughts. “Why do you ask?”

  “Truly?” Julia raised a brow. “He appears at your side at every event we attend. He even found you when we were watching the balloon ascent. Surely my curiosity comes as no surprise.”

  “I’m not trying to encourage anything to happen with Burbridge.” At least, not anymore. She liked to think any potential relationship would unfold naturally. However, she couldn’t help but feel what had happened to Helena still remained between them, and she didn’t know what to do about it. Her thoughts continually poked at the information she had, trying to reconcile it into an explanation that made sense. One that allowed her feelings for Elijah to grow without betraying her friend.

  “Do you like him?” Julia asked.

  Lillian hesitated. A positive response came to her lips, but guilt over Helena held it back.

  “It’s a simple question that only requires a yes or no response,” Julia added.

  “Yes?” At Julia’s frown, Lillian attempted to clarify without revealing too much. “Yes, of course I like him. He’s a kind person.”

  “Kind?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hmm. When I look at him, kind is not what I think.”

 
Heat flushed Lillian’s cheeks. “He’s handsome, for certain.”

  “He has the most wonderful eyes.”

  “He does, doesn’t he? With gold flecks that make one think of—” She caught herself before she expanded on the thought.

  Julia’s knowing smile only made the heat in her cheeks warmer. “I thought so.”

  “What?”

  “You’re smitten.”

  “That’s such an odd word.” Lillian set her tea on the table before she managed to spill it, not prepared to admit anything. “I’m not even certain what it means.”

  “Only that he makes your heart go pitter patter.”

  “Julia,” she began. “I don’t want you to read overmuch into our...association.”

  “Perhaps relationship is the word for which you’re searching.”

  Lillian shook her head. “I don’t think it can be called that.” Not when the reason it had started was that of revenge. Somehow that cast a different color over whatever it was between them.

  “You know each other. That’s a relationship.”

  “Yes, but I’m still not certain where our...association is going. Nor where it should go.”

  “Should?” Julia chuckled. “My dear, there is no ‘should’ when it comes to these things.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “You act as if you have control. You don’t.”

  Lillian was affronted at the thought. “I certainly do. I can decide—”

  “Your feelings decide. Your attraction to each other decides. But your mind has little to do with it.” She reached over to pat Lillian’s arm. “Trust me. I speak from experience. Logic is not in play here.”

  “I’m not certain that’s true.” Nor did she care for the idea that her feelings could simply carry her away. Yet wasn’t that what had happened on more than one occasion when she’d been with Elijah?

  Before Julia said anything more, the footman appeared in the doorway. “Miss Violet Fairchild,” he announced.

  “How delightful,” Julia said.

  Violet entered the drawing room with a smile. “Good afternoon, ladies.” She paused to study Lillian. “Were you talking about Burbridge by chance?”

  Lillian nearly gaped in surprise. “Why would you think that?”

  Violet shared a knowing look with Julia. “You tend to have a certain expression when he’s mentioned.”

  Rather than ask what that expression was, Lillian shook her head. She didn’t really want to know. Hearing might make it all too clear that her feelings for him were growing by leaps and bounds, regardless of what she wanted.

  “Will he be at the musicale this evening?” Violet asked.

  “I’m not certain.”

  Julia tilted her head, obviously doubting Lillian’s reply. “Truly?”

  “We didn’t discuss it.” She reached for her tea. Never mind they had plans to meet in the morning at Hyde Park. She wasn’t ready to share that information yet. It was all too new. She hadn’t determined how she felt about him or them. If their relationship constituted a ‘them.’ Why did it have to be so complicated?

  “What of you, Violet?” Lillian asked, more than ready to set aside her circling thoughts if only for a few minutes. “Has anyone caught your eye?”

  “Not at the moment.” Her heavy sigh caused Lillian and Julia to share a look.

  “Why the sigh?” Julia asked.

  “I am beginning to wonder if such an event will ever occur.”

  “You are all of eighteen years, are you not?” Julia shook her head. “You have all the time in the world yet.”

  “If you would please advise my mother of that, I would be ever so grateful.”

  Lillian and Julia chuckled.

  “I must say I’m pleased my mother remained in the country,” Lillian said. “Not that her voice doesn’t sound in my thoughts at every turn.”

  Julia smiled gently. “She has high expectations of you, doesn’t she?”

  Lillian sighed, not so different from Violet a few minutes ago. “I’m beginning to realize that living up to them is impossible. I’m far from perfect.”

  “I don’t know if my mother had expectations for me,” Julia offered. “She was far too embroiled in her own life to worry overmuch about mine.”

  “I’m sorry,” Lillian said, wishing she hadn’t complained. At least her mother was alive and cared about her.

  “Not at all. She died a long time ago.” She smiled at Lillian. “We were just speaking last night of how different people are. Our mothers are just one more example of that.”

  “If we were all alike, the world would be a boring place.” Violet shared a look of sympathy with Lillian. “I love my mother, but at times she drives me mad.”

  Does she make you doubt your place in life? Lillian wanted to ask. But she didn’t. Such a question sounded far too dramatic as if she were exaggerating the way her mother’s constant reminders of how to act and what to say made her feel.

  She sat up straighter, telling herself that she was her own person, old enough to make her own decisions and know what was best. Why didn’t she feel that way deep inside? And how could she change that?

  ~*~

  That evening, Elijah assisted his mother to alight from the carriage at the Marquess of Barbon’s elegant mansion for the supper to which they’d been invited. The small gathering held every year was one his mother and father traditionally attended together.

  The fact that she wanted to attend at all was a major step forward as far as Elijah was concerned. He only hoped doing so wouldn’t upset her.

  “You look lovely,” he told her as he took her hand to walk up the stairs.

  “Thank you, dear Elijah.” She smoothed a gloved hand against her black silk. “I know you’re weary of the black, but I am not ready to let it go.”

  “No need to change until you’re ready. That will be soon enough for me.”

  “I’m beginning to see why Queen Victoria continues to wear mourning. It dramatically reduces the cost of a wardrobe.”

  Elijah smiled. “I’m not certain that’s why the queen does it.” At least his mother had her sense of humor this evening. That was a good sign. “Have you spoken with the marchioness of late?”

  She leaned close. “I haven’t, but rumors suggest the marquess lost a fortune on a shipping venture. Their circumstances have been reduced dramatically.”

  Elijah wondered if it was the same venture in which his father had invested, though they certainly hadn’t lost that much. His meeting with his man of business had resulted in more than the changes he’d initially considered. He continued to monitor the situation closely and hoped for improved results within the next few weeks. “I’m surprised they’re hosting this gathering.”

  “One must keep up appearances.”

  Elijah wasn’t certain about that. Not if it meant spending money one didn’t have. Thank goodness he’d made changes to their investments, or they could’ve faced the same dilemma in a year or two.

  “Your grace.”

  He turned back toward the carriage to see Edward, one of their footmen, hurrying toward him.

  “I’m terribly sorry to disturb you, but this message arrived shortly after your departure. The messenger suggested it was urgent.” Edward handed him an envelope.

  “Whatever could that be?” his mother asked, her tone filled with concern.

  Elijah had no idea. He opened the envelope and stepped closer to one of the torches lighting the stairs to read it.

  Burbridge,

  Police are now searching the location you recommended. Will send an update when available. You’re welcome to join us.

  Rutland

  “Nothing to worry over,” he told her with a smile. He dearly wanted to know what they found. “A business matter with a friend.”

  “You are as poor of a liar as your father. Go on with you.” She reached up to pat his cheek. “I can see you want to.”

  “I’m not going to leave you alone.”


  “I won’t be. Without you there, perhaps the marchioness can be convinced to share some of the details of their situation.” She moved up a step.

  “Are you certain you don’t mind?”

  “I’ll make your excuses and advise them you hope to make an appearance before the evening is over.”

  He moved before her and kissed her cheek. “You are a gem. No wonder Father loved you so much.”

  She smiled. “I hope to see you before the evening is over.”

  “This shouldn’t take long.” He gestured for one of the Barbon’s footmen to escort her the rest of the way up the stairs before turning back to Edward. “Ride with us in case you’re needed.”

  After giving his coachman the address, Elijah settled into the carriage. Knowing Rutland, he’d be in attendance as well. The streets were crowded with evening traffic, causing the ride to take nearly twenty minutes.

  As they drew closer, Elijah could see several peelers coming in and out of a small warehouse, their tall hats and long blue coats making them easily identifiable. Several police wagons blocked the area.

  Rutland stood on the opposite side of the street. Elijah directed his coachman and Edward to wait a short distance away then he joined Rutland.

  “What have they found?”

  “Very little from what I can tell,” Rutland said. “One of the bobbies caught sight of suspicious activity earlier in the day, which is why they decided to raid the place now. But whoever was running it must’ve gotten word as they cleaned out the warehouse.”

  “Not very helpful when criminals are a step ahead of the police.”

  “It’s not the first time that’s happened, and it certainly won’t be the last.” Rutland shook his head, obviously disgusted. “We’ll know more after they’ve done a more thorough search.”

  Over thirty minutes passed before a detective crossed toward them, nodding familiarly at Rutland who introduced him to Elijah. “They left little behind,” the detective said, his pock-marked face grim. “Tables, a few broken bottles of gin, labels from various types of alcohol.”

  “So they’re not just adding to beer but to all types of liquor,” Elijah said.

  “Right,” the man agreed. “Looks as if they added to whatever order had been placed. Not a big operation, but concerning all the same.”