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

by Lana Williams

  “If all of mankind were trustworthy, we wouldn’t be doing any of this. It’s unfortunate that those types reside on both sides of the law.”

  “I couldn’t agree more. You’re certain your mother will recover?”

  “I am hopeful.” He rose to take his leave. “I’m going to check on her now. If anything changes, I’ll let you know.”

  “And I’ll be in touch soon as well.”

  Elijah hurried home, anxious to see how his mother fared.

  “She’s been resting comfortably, your grace,” her maid advised. “Much less restless.”

  “Has she been sick again?”

  “No. She’s had a few sips of water but nothing to eat.”

  “That’s probably a good thing for now. Why don’t you get some rest? I’ll watch over her for a time.”

  “Are you certain? I’m happy to stay.”

  “No, I’ll sit with her. I’ll send for you when I have need of you.”

  After the maid had taken her leave, Elijah sat on the side of the bed, using the back of his hand to touch his mother’s cheek.

  Her eyes fluttered open. “Elijah?”

  “How do you fare?” His stomach tightened, hoping she responded coherently. He hadn’t cared for the delirium that had held her in its grip during the night.

  Pale cheeks and exhaustion made her appear older than normal. He didn’t care for that either.

  A long moment passed before she answered. “As if a herd of elephants trampled me.”

  He smiled, appreciating her attempt at levity, taking it as a good sign. After assisting her with another sip of water, she went back to sleep.

  He must’ve dozed in the chair as dreams of Lillian wound through his thoughts. The image of her delighted expression as the balloon lit the night sky filled his mind. Then that expression of wonder turned to him, and he kissed her.

  Lillian.

  He sat up abruptly, wide awake. Damn. He’d forgotten about their intended meeting this morning. He ran a hand over his face, wishing he’d remembered earlier and sent her a message.

  His mother still slept, no expression of pain on her face. A glance out the window showed darkness had fallen.

  He rang for the maid, needing to find Lillian and apologize for missing their meeting.

  ~*~

  Lillian surveyed the crowded ballroom that evening, uncertain whether to hope Elijah was there. The hurt from his absence at their planned morning ride refused to be ignored. She’d already told Julia and Oliver she would return to the country soon, though she hadn’t yet determined when.

  The persistent if faint hope that a message would arrive to explain his not having bothered to make an appearance that morning had gone unanswered. She felt as if she needed time to process the situation—her feelings, his behavior, her hopes. Doing so while still in London and looking for his tall, broad-shouldered form everywhere she went wouldn’t help in the least.

  Just as she was doing now. With a sigh, she closed her eyes briefly.

  The all too familiar feeling of falling short of expectations, including her own, sat heavily in her chest.

  She could already imagine the conversation with her mother. Surely you didn’t think to catch the duke’s eye. She shuddered at the thought. Hopefully, her mother wouldn’t find out about her ridiculous attraction to Elijah.

  Was this disappointment how Helena had felt? While part of Lillian still had a difficult time believing Elijah had toyed with her own or her friend’s feelings, she knew Helena’s pain had been real.

  Or maybe Lillian needed to face the truth and realize he’d played with her own feelings as well. She just hadn’t been clever enough to recognize the truth. Nor had she been strong enough to seek revenge as she’d planned. The thought brought a lump to her throat.

  “Is it true?” Violet asked without bothering to greet her.

  “What?”

  “You’re leaving?”

  Lillian blinked, grateful for the distraction from her thoughts but uncertain how she’d found out so quickly.

  “I saw Julia. She’s not very pleased about it.” Violet leveled her a look. “I must say neither am I.”

  Lillian reached out to clasp Violet’s hand. “Thank you. It’s lovely to know you care.”

  “Why are you going? When are you going?”

  “I don’t know when, and I never intended to stay that long in London. Besides, it’s not as if you’ll never see me again.”

  Violet scowled. “You can’t promise that. What if you were to marry? Your husband might not care for London, and you’ll rarely visit.”

  “That’s quite unlikely. There are few eligible men anywhere near my home.” She frowned as she considered the matter further. “Except for the vicar’s son. I’m not certain he counts.” The man was near her age, but his nervousness at speaking with others, especially women, kept people at arm’s length.

  Violet looped her arm through Lillian’s. “I thought things were going well,” she said as she looked askance at Lillian.

  Lillian swallowed against the lump in her throat that had returned. I did too. But she didn’t say the words. Speaking of the situation and her emotions wouldn’t make her feel any better. The fewer people who knew the truth, the better.

  “Does he know?”

  Lillian glanced at Violet only to see she stared across the room. Her entire body flooded with heat as emotions swirled through her. She didn’t need to look. She could feel. Elijah was here.

  What should she do? Did she pretend she didn’t see him? That nothing had occurred? That she hadn’t waited over an hour for him to appear this morning? Before she could settle on one of those, Elijah arrived at her side.

  “Lady Lillian. Miss Fairchild.”

  The deep voice sent shivers along her body, but she couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze as she and Violet curtsied.

  Lillian’s heart pounded so hard she worried he’d hear it. From fear that he’d completely forgotten and wouldn’t bother to remark on his absence. From embarrassment that she’d expected him to be there. From longing that things between them were different.

  Had he come to tell her in person he wasn’t interested in her? Oh, dear heavens. If that were true, she didn’t think she could bear it.

  Gathering her courage, she at last raised her gaze to meet his, afraid of what she’d find there. But it wasn’t what she’d expected.

  Shadows marked his eyes, and worry marred his brow.

  He turned to Violet. “Would you excuse us for a moment?”

  She looked at Lillian as though to see if that was acceptable. At Lillian’s nod, she said, “Of course.” With one last glance at them, Violet moved a short distance away.

  As thick as the crowd was, they had no privacy. But that didn’t seem to matter. Especially not once his gaze held hers. In that moment, all else fell away.

  “Please accept my apology for missing our rendezvous this morning.” He glanced about to see if anyone might overhear them.

  She did the same, relieved to see no one nearby seemed to be watching. Their gazes met once more, and her heart pounded again, but this time for a different reason. She could see something was terribly wrong. “What is it?”

  “My mother fell ill last evening.” His mouth tightened, making her realize how serious it must be.

  “Is she well? What happened?”

  “She seems to be recovering. The doctor believes she was poisoned.”

  Shock seeped through Lillian, her mind refusing to believe it. The idea of such a thing happening to the duchess was truly terrible. Lillian should’ve realized Elijah wouldn’t have missed their planned ride without good reason. “How could that have happened?”

  “It may have been the alcohol served at the party she attended.”

  “Wouldn’t others have become ill if that were the case?”

  His mouth tightened. “I’m only beginning to make inquiries to see if anyone else had similar issues, but she might’ve had more tha
n most. And perhaps reacted strongly to what was added to the liquor purchased for the party. We’re investigating the situation further. With everything happening, I failed to send you a message. I was looking forward to spending time with you.”

  Opposing feelings warred within Lillian. Part of her was thrilled she hadn’t imagined the attraction she and Elijah shared. But another part continued to worry that she was making a mistake.

  “You are a bright spot in my life, one I don’t take for granted. I hope you can forgive me.”

  “Of course.” Relief filled her at his words, but the concern mixed with hope in his eyes caused her stomach to dance. His sincerity couldn’t be denied. “I’m just pleased the duchess is recovering.”

  “It may take a few days, according to the doctor, but I’m hopeful she will. I appreciate your understanding.”

  “Please give her my best. When she’s feeling better, I’d like to call on her.”

  “I’m certain she’d enjoy that.” He gave a gentle smile that melted her heart. “And so would I.”

  Lillian wouldn’t have guessed this day would end with her feelings for Elijah growing even more. Things were moving far too fast, but she didn’t know what she could do to slow them.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “The moderate man in the habit of adjourning to the decent tavern to pass an hour before supper-time with a pipe and a pint of ale and harmless chat with friends does not care to be ‘reformed.’”

  ~The Seven Curses of London

  “We can’t keep movin’ locations and still fulfill our orders,” Roberts complained as he came to stand before D.T., who was overseeing the unloading of the supplies. Again.

  They’d been forced to move twice in the past three days thanks to threats of police raids. The workers had spent more time packing up supplies and hauling them onto carts in the middle of the night only to unload them to set up a new operation than they had creating the alcohol.

  “This should be the last one for awhile,” D.T. said, hoping he spoke the truth.

  “I sure as hell hope so.”

  When McCarthy’s man had warned them of a police raid on the location they’d had for nearly a year, D.T. had been stunned. Stunned that the police had taken notice of their operation and stunned that McCarthy had found out about it. The criminal mastermind truly had contacts everywhere, and D.T. was grateful he’d warned them, or he’d be sitting in jail at this moment.

  Following the message had been a scramble for their livelihood. McCarthy had the forethought to send two carts along with the messenger, allowing them to pack and move quicker than D.T. would’ve thought possible. Certainly faster than he could’ve arranged on his own. McCarthy also provided an address of a warehouse where they could move.

  Yet the police managed to find them within a day of settling into the new location. What had brought their interest D.T. wasn’t certain. Had his deal with McCarthy caused it? Or perhaps it was because of the orders pouring in from those in the upper social class.

  Both developments had caused D.T. to lose sleep more frequently than ever before, not to mention the threat of raids.

  The alcohol for the last few orders hadn’t been prepared to D.T.’s normal standards. He was still struggling to get the quantities right with the new ingredient. He probably shouldn’t have sold the first batch, but what choice did he have? None with McCarthy’s nose in every aspect of his business. D.T. had yet to come to grips with that.

  Roberts scowled as he stepped closer. “I’m tellin’ ye, McCarthy has brought us bad luck. Maybe we should’ve left well enough alone.”

  D.T. clenched his jaw. Severing ties with McCarthy felt like an impossibility now that he’d helped them escape the police not once but twice. Then there were the additional orders they’d received through him.

  Regret haunted D.T. in the middle of the night when he lay sleepless, but the harsh light of day insisted he make do with the situation as best he could. “We’ll get back to normal soon enough. When the money is rollin’ in, all of this will be nothin’ but a bad memory.”

  “If ye say so.” Roberts seemed to remain unconvinced.

  Unfortunately, so did D.T.

  ~*~

  “Are you certain you’re all right?” Elijah asked as he sat on the side of his mother’s bed, studying her face with a critical eye.

  “Elijah, if you ask me one more time, I’ll have no choice but to ban you from my room. Now go on. Breathe some fresh air. Visit with your friends. Take care of business.” She waved her hand to urge him on his way.

  He’d spent most of the past three days with her. By now, he’d expected her recovery to be further along. But she remained in bed, as weak as a kitten. She had little interest in any topic he’d raised, whether it was a new book, her needlework, or gossip. The lethargy that held her in its grip concerned him. He convinced her to eat, though that was a struggle at each meal.

  “I’ll send in your maid,” he offered as he rose.

  “No need to hurry. I intend to sleep a little more.”

  He kissed her cheek, not caring for the despondency in her eyes. “I’ll see you soon.”

  “Not too soon I hope.” Her attempt at a smile did little to ease his worry.

  He paused after closing her door behind him, wishing there was more he could do. Even the flowers he’d had arranged in her room only lifted her spirits briefly. She insisted she wasn’t in pain, only tired. He hoped that was true.

  He’d already ordered the carriage for his meeting with Rutland at White’s. He wanted to give him the bottle of alcohol from the Marquess of Barbon’s party along with the name of the supplier. It felt good to leave the house however briefly, but his worry remained.

  To his surprise, Viscount Frost, Lillian’s brother, was at the gentleman’s club, speaking with another man. Though Elijah knew Frost was a member, he rarely made an appearance. Elijah didn’t interrupt, only nodded before proceeding to the table where Rutland waited.

  “The marquess actually sent it to you?” Rutland asked as he rose to take the package Elijah handed him.

  “I didn’t leave him much choice.”

  “Interesting how reluctant people are in these situations. They seem to fear any wrongdoing will reflect poorly on them.”

  “I believe the marquess already fears that is the case. I understand his fortunes have changed due to a poor outcome on a shipping venture. I don’t think he cares for the idea that anyone will discover he sought to save money by purchasing alcohol at a bargain price.”

  “Ah. That explains it.”

  They visited for a time, exploring ideas to see how best to proceed with the situation.

  Frost approached. “Am I interrupting?”

  “Not at all,” Elijah said. “Join us. I’m surprised to see you here.”

  “I don’t often come,” Frost admitted as he took a seat at their table. “But Samson had news of a book in which I was interested.”

  Rutland chuckled. “I should’ve guessed the lure of a book was needed to convince you to come here.”

  Frost smiled good naturedly. “It takes something interesting to prod me away from my library. What has the two of you so deep in conversation?”

  Elijah shared a look with Rutland to be certain it was all right with him if he shared the situation with Frost. At Rutland’s nod, Elijah said, “The suspicion of poisoned alcohol.”

  “What? Where?” Frost asked.

  Elijah told how his mother had fallen ill at the marquess’s party and that he suspected the alcohol had been tampered with.

  “Why hasn’t word of this spread?” Frost asked. “Surely others felt poorly afterward.”

  “I believe my mother caught the worst of it for various reasons. I might’ve prevented it if I’d been there, but I was with Rutland watching the police raid a warehouse we knew to be in the business of diluting alcohol and substituting other ingredients.”

  “That’s terrible. How is she faring?”

  “Slowly
recovering.” He shook his head. “Not as quickly as I’d like.”

  “Isn’t that normal?” Frost asked. “Poison takes time to leave the body. Where was the warehouse?”

  Elijah told him.

  “I might have some contacts familiar with that area. I’ll reach out to them.”

  “Do you mind me asking who?” Rutland asked as he leaned forward with interest.

  Frost smiled. “A young lad who attempted to pick my pocket now works for me. He has several friends who live and work in that neighborhood. They tend to have a tight network that shares information. For a small fee, of course.”

  Rutland nodded. “Impressive. They would be an excellent resource if you knew they could be trusted.”

  “I took a gamble on Victor over a year ago, and it has paid dividends. He’s become a valuable resource,” Frost said. “If you have interest in learning more about the East End, I can make arrangements to put you in touch with him.”

  “I’d like that very much. Not only for the Intelligence Office but for the charity I’ve started as well.”

  The topic turned to a less serious nature when Elijah asked Rutland about his upcoming wedding.

  “I’ll certainly miss Lillian when she returns home,” Frost remarked. “It’s been a pleasure having her here, even if her presence requires me to leave the house more than normal.”

  Elijah stilled. “Is she thinking of leaving soon?”

  “Yes, though I’m not certain when. Didn’t she mention it to you?”

  “I haven’t seen much of her or anyone since my mother fell ill.” A hollow feeling slowed Elijah’s thoughts.

  The weight of Frost’s regard had Elijah trying to gather his wits lest Frost realize how much his news had concerned him.

  He didn’t know what he could do about Lillian leaving, but he wanted more time with her. Though it was selfish of him, he intended to do what he could to convince her to stay.

  ~*~

  Lillian hesitated after placing her message to the Duchess of Burbridge in an envelope. Writing to the older woman was forward of her. Such things simply weren’t done. If someone discovered her action, they might interpret it as a ploy on her part to attract the duke’s notice.