Heirs and Graces Page 13

  ‘How does he know Mason?’ Olivia asked.

  ‘We have been unable to find a connection.’ Jake shook his head. ‘Falconer never married. He has a married sister living in the north, but all her children are girls. Parker is still digging to see if there is a tenuous connection through one of their marriages, but so far he has found nothing that throws any light on the subject.’

  ‘What of Mason?’ Isaac asked.

  ‘He is a member of the Royal Institute of British Architects but hasn’t done anything to distinguish himself in that field. He comes from a middle class background—’

  ‘Ah, middle class dissatisfaction again,’ Olivia said pensively, toying with the stem of her wineglass. ‘We appear to come back to that at every turn.’

  Jake nodded. ‘Indeed. He rents modest rooms in Cheapside and that is about all we know for certain. We can find no obvious connection to Falconer or Armitage, and if Mason has Radical leanings, he keeps them secret.’

  ‘So, Jake.’ Olivia sent him a challenging smile. ‘Your network of contacts has discovered little that we did not already know.’

  Jake narrowed his eyes. If she continued to deliberately provoke him then the spanking he had earlier considered would definitely be administered. ‘I am open to suggestions,’ he replied in an urbane tone.

  ‘Oh, but my lord, I am a mere woman, incapable of taking care of herself. What advice could I possibly offer that would be worth hearing?’

  ‘Wench!’ Jake muttered, his voice drowned out by the laughter of the others.

  But, Jake thought, as the meal continued and the conversation became more general, Olivia had made a valid point. He had wasted almost an entire day and knew little more at this end of it than he had when he’d got out of bed that morning. But in his own defence, the delicacy of the situation made it impossible for him to be too obvious. His connection to the government and the use it made of his services was an open secret in the corridors of Whitehall, where gossip and rife speculation abounded. If any intrusive questions were traced back to him, he would lose what little advantage he currently enjoyed.

  More to the point, Armitage might be tipped the wink and would look for his daughter and Mabel at this address, and that in turn would put Olivia at risk. His blood turned cold at the thought. There was nothing else for it. He would somehow have to make her see reason, even if he was obliged to resort to kidnap in order to have the final say.

  ‘Parker is here, my lord,’ Finch said for the doorway.

  Jake nodded, put his napkin aside and stood. ‘Excuse me, ladies,’ he said. ‘Take good care of them,’ he added, embracing Isaac and Fergus with his gaze.

  ‘Depend upon it,’ Isaac replied.

  Olivia, predictably, followed Jake into the hallway. She watched him as he donned his hat and cape, a tense silence settling about them like a damp blanket.

  ‘You are angry with me,’ he said, ‘because you think I undervalue you.’

  ‘Something of that nature,’ she replied, sucking in a shuddering breath and crossing her arms defensively across her stomach.

  ‘Olivia, we do not have time to talk about this now but if you think I am not appreciative of your many talents then you quite mistake the matter. But to be blunt, there are some situations in which you would be more of a hindrance to me than a help. Especially dressed as you are now,’ he added with a significant glance at her bare shoulders—and lower. ‘Do not imagine that the residents of Limehouse would allow gentlemanly behaviour to rein in their lustful intentions.’

  ‘Is that what you are obliged to do when we are together, Jake?’ She canted her head and studied him from beneath the thick frame of lashes that cast shadows over her cheeks; challenging, demanding, adorable in her anger. ‘I thought you were barely conscious of my existence.’

  What in the name of Hades had brought this on? She had crossed the invisible line that defined their relationship. Was it deliberate?

  ‘My feelings do not enter into it.’

  ‘Coward,’ she muttered, so quietly that he barely heard her.

  ‘If you were seen in Limehouse at this time of night, no matter how well you managed to disguise your…er…person, the rogues that roam the streets would consider you fair game.’ He riveted her with a dark look. ‘And being robbed of your possessions would be the least of your worries.’

  ‘Even so, I—’ She lifted her slender shoulders, drawing his attention to the smoothness of her skin. Jake fought the urge to kiss his way down the delicate column of her neck and explore the delights concealed beneath her flimsy bodice. ‘What is it?’ she asked.

  ‘Don’t make me worry about you,’ he said, his voice a soft caress.

  Jake removed the hat that he had just placed on his head. Frustration and sensuality shaped her expression, causing him to give way to his impulses. He lowered his head and briefly, far too briefly, covered her lips with his own.

  ‘Until later,’ he said.

  ‘Take care.’

  He turned back at the sound of her voice to see her touching the lips he had just kissed with the tips of her fingers, a quizzical look on her face.

  Chapter Eleven

  When Eva suggested that they all return to the drawing room, Lord Willard helped Amelia with her chair. Flustered by such unaccustomed attention, she caught her heel in the hem of her borrowed gown as she stood. She wobbled as she fought to keep her balance and heard an ominous ripping sound.

  ‘Oh no!’

  Lord Willard’s arm shot out to steady her. ‘Are you all right, Miss Armitage?’

  Stupid question. Of course she was not all right. Surely he had heard the fabric tear. She glanced down, expecting to see yards of torn silk flapping around her hoops, but to her relief the damage appeared minimal. She would repair it herself before returning the gown and no one would be any the wiser.

  ‘I apologise for being so clumsy,’ she said with as much dignity as she could muster.

  ‘I expect everything seems a little strange to you at present, so you can be forgiven for feeling anxious.’ His smile intoxicated her. ‘Let me assure you that none of us bite.’

  ‘Being considered socially inept is a worse punishment.’

  ‘None of us think that of you, and I hope we have not given you any reason to suppose that we do. If so, it is our manners that are at fault.’

  Amelia expressed her thanks, appreciating the trouble he was taking to put her at her ease. Most gentlemen in his position would sneer at her incompetence and want as little as possible to do with her. Lord Willard sent her a reassuring smile and offered her his arm. She walked into the drawing room with her hand resting upon it, managing not to knock into anything. Olivia joined them, having seen Lord Torbay off on his mission. She looked distracted as she threw herself onto the piano stool and ran her hands idly across the keys.

  Amelia’s heart did a strange little flip when Lord Willard asked permission to occupy the same settee as her when there were plenty of other chairs he might have chosen. She readily agreed and there he was, smiling at her in his open, friendly manner and asking her if she was warm enough.

  ‘Did you enjoy your first evening away from your father’s home?’ he asked.

  ‘I was terrified, if you want to know the truth,’ she replied with a self-deprecating smile.

  ‘Were you?’ Lord Willard elevated his brows. ‘Good heavens. I never would have guessed it from your behaviour.’

  ‘Well, that is something, I suppose.’

  ‘Why were you so nervous?’

  ‘Why, you ask?’ Amelia widened her eyes. ‘I have never dined with earls or viscounts before; nor had I ever expected to. I was terrified that I would do something wrong.’ She spread her hands. ‘Use the wrong fork, or something, knock my wine glass over. I tend towards clumsiness when I am nervous; as I am sure you have already noticed.’

  ‘What strikes me most forcibly about you is your courage.’

  ‘Courage?’ She widened her eyes in frank astonishment.
‘There is nothing especially courageous about me.’

  ‘I would imagine that defying your father and walking out on the only life you have ever known must have taken a considerable amount of courage.’

  ‘It is kind of you to try and make me out to be something I am not. Unfortunately it was desperation, selfishness, stubbornness…one or all of those things that drove me to act so impulsively. But still, at least I can congratulate myself upon not using the wrong fork at dinner. Now that did take courage.’

  He chuckled. ‘We none of us would have minded if you had.’

  ‘I would have minded if I gave you reason to turn your nose up at me.’

  I have never turned my nose up at another living soul. Nor, to the best of my knowledge, has Jake or Isaac.’

  ‘Not even if they really deserve it?’

  ‘If Jake was annoyed with you, you would have known it at once,’ Olivia said from her seat at the piano. ‘He can be very impatient, especially when a person has the temerity to disagree with him.’

  ‘You disagree with him all the time, Olivia,’ Eva pointed out. ‘And he seldom gets impatient with you.’

  ‘I disagree with him because someone needs to remind him that he is not always right. But he dislikes having the fact pointed out to him. It puts him in a bad mood and he becomes even more dictatorial.’ Olivia tossed her head and launched into a rousing sonata; a harmonious musical argument into which she poured considerable passion.

  ‘I hope we have not made you regret your decision to leave your father’s house, Miss Armitage,’ Lord Willard said, his voice as melodious as the beautiful music Olivia’s fingers were so effortlessly producing. ‘Now that we have made your acquaintance, we are not nearly ready to part with you again.’

  Amelia’s trilling laugh sounded contrived and probably failed to disguise the fact that she was unaccustomed to receiving compliments. ‘You need not trouble yourself to be gallant, my lord. I know my being here is a dreadful inconvenience.’

  He appeared amused by her frankness. ‘The more customary response to a compliment is simply to thank the person who delivered it.’

  ‘Then you have my thanks, even if I cannot believe you were being sincere.’

  He fixed her with a probing look that made her feel rather peculiar; his hazel eyes sparkling with an emotion Amelia couldn’t identify. ‘I never say anything I don’t mean,’ he assured her.

  ‘Even to people who do not belong in your world?’

  ‘Ah, but the world is changing; social barriers are being broken down. Is that not what all the political unrest is about?’

  ‘Lord Derby is doing his level best to prevent those changes from taking place precisely because he understands that order would be replaced by anarchy.’

  Lord Willard laughed. ‘He opposes change because he knows that if working class men are granted the vote, he is less likely to be re-elected.’

  ‘Very possibly,’ Amelia agreed, smiling. ‘You would know a great deal more about that than I do. And to answer your earlier question, I have no regrets about leaving Papa. But I will own that when Olivia’s and Eva’s children joined us this afternoon I felt a brief pang of regret for the loss of my nephew. He is such an adorable child and I am very attached to him.’ She sighed. ‘But we all have to make sacrifices.’

  ‘Jake asked me to remind you that it might be necessary for you to take sides,’ Lord Willard said.

  Olivia missed a note as she turned her head. ‘You see,’ she said, sounding affronted. ‘That is a perfect example of Jake’s tyranny. Eva and I could easily have pointed out to Amelia that she might soon have to decide whether or not to side against her family. For all Jake knows I might actually have thought of that problem all on my own and already spoken to her about it.’ She scowled. ‘Once again that man is treating me like a dimwit.’

  Amelia noticed that Lord Isaac and Eva shared a bemused glance.

  ‘But you have not discussed it with her?’ Lord Willard asked in a placating tone.

  Olivia stopped playing and exhaled slowly. ‘No,’ she admitted. ‘I have not.’

  ‘Then, with your permission, I will explain the situation to Miss Armitage.’

  ‘By all means,’ Olivia said absently.

  ‘There is a possibility that your father has no involvement in this affair, Miss Armitage. Like many men in his position nowadays, he wants to have a say in the way the country is run. Less popularly, he has aligned himself with an extreme wing of a political party for that purpose, allowing them to use his premises for clandestine meetings. There is no law against that and, for your sake I hope he is unaware of any murderous plots. If, however, he is a party to them…if he knew in advance of the plot to kill Smallbrooke and did not try to prevent it, then he is culpable.’

  ‘Yes.’ Amelia swallowed, greatly troubled by the thought that her father could be plotting to undermine the government. ‘I do not like Papa very much. A terrible admission to make, I know, but—’

  ‘We cannot choose our relations,’ Lord Willard said, briefly touching her hand.

  ‘That is undeniable. However, although we are now estranged, I don’t like to think of Papa behaving outside the law.’ She lifted her chin. ‘If it transpires that he is involved then I shall disown him, rather than the other way around.’ She managed a weak smile. ‘Won’t that be novel?’

  ‘You will not be tainted by association,’ Eva said, smiling at her. ‘We shall make sure of that.’

  ‘Certainly we shall,’ Lord Isaac agreed with alacrity.

  ‘I am already quite out of charity with Henry for not standing by Mabel. He could not marry her, of course, but he should have thought of the consequences before…well, before taking liberties.’ Amelia was conscious of every eye in the room regarding her with varying degrees of approval and amusement. Her cheeks flooded with colour but she gamely continued to make her point. ‘Henry should have stood up to Papa and insisted upon providing for Mabel without the need for any signed agreements.’

  ‘Well said, Amelia!’ Olivia, who had been playing a medley whilst listening to Amelia’s rant, ended her tune with a flourishing crescendo of notes. ‘But alas, men seldom do as they ought.’

  ‘That will not prevent me from telling Henry precisely what I think of his behaviour should our paths cross again.’ Amelia’s lips curved. ‘There must be more of my grandmother in me than I realised.’

  ‘Then I am very grateful to your grandmother,’ Lord Willard said softly.

  Amelia’s blush returned and she wondered what he meant by the compliment.

  ‘Shall we have a hand of whist to pass the time?’ Eva suggested. ‘We are one too many but I don’t mind sitting out.’

  ‘No,’ Olivia replied. ‘Manage without me. Excuse me, I have a letter to write.’

  The gentlemen stood as Olivia swept from the room.

  ‘Leave her,’ Amelia heard Lord Isaac say, his hand on Eva’s arm preventing her from following Olivia from the room. ‘Unless I mistake the matter, she needs a moment’s solitude.’

  ***

  Jake entered the carriage, Franklin climbed inside with him and the conveyance moved off. Parker was on the box seat beside Jake’s coachman, armed and alert. Feeling no obligation to make conversation with Franklin, Jake allowed his mind to wander back to Olivia’s odd behaviour. She was always challenging, sometimes deliberately provocative, always teasing but never irrational. Olivia was the most intelligent lady of his acquaintance; her opinions almost always well-reasoned. But tonight she had been obtuse. Deliberately so, he was sure.

  Jake shook his head, wondering if he was suffering from a bout of temporary insanity. She had never made him put his concern for her ahead of his duty before. She had never exasperated him into kissing her into submission either, thereby crossing the divide that defined their relationship. What he had imagined that brief kiss would actually achieve, other than making him yearn for a more prolonged repetition, was equally hard for him to fathom. Hell and damnation, th
at woman could try the patience of Job! She had incensed him into forgetting his own rules, possibly exciting expectations he was not in a position to fulfil. What the devil was he supposed to do now to put things right between them?

  The carriage slowed. Jake glanced through the window and realised they were nearing their destination. At least the rain had stopped and a curling river fog hung like a damp blanket over the dockside area they had reached.

  ‘Is this the place where you arranged for us to meet Travis?’ Jake asked Franklin.

  ‘Yes, my lord. That is Narrow Street and The Grapes is the tavern on the corner. Travis said to meet him at the other end of the lane. We are less likely to be noticed there.’

  ‘Could be a trap,’ Parker said, jumping down from the box seat and opening the carriage door to address the remark to Jake. ‘Best let me check it out first. Wait here for a moment.’

  Jake nodded and Parker took off, slipping quietly down Narrow Street and disappearing into the fog. Jake tapped his fingers on the velvet squabs, jolted out of his reverie when Parker returned so stealthily that he didn’t realise he was there until the carriage door opened again.

  ‘All clear, as far as I can make out,’ he said. ‘There’s someone loitering at the other end of the lane. Fits Franklin’s description of Travis and there’s no one else hanging about so I figure it must be him. I’ll hide in the lane, on the corner where I’ll be able to see you, just in case of trouble.’

  Jake agreed with that arrangement and left the carriage, Franklin in his wake. They reached the other end of the lane without encountering anyone, apart from a few rats that scurried away at the sound of their footfalls.

  ‘It’s him,’ Franklin confirmed, pausing to look at Travis, just visible beneath the glow of a gaslight dimmed by the fog. ‘Travis,’ he said, stepping forward. ‘Glad you came.’