Saving Grace (Victorian Vigilantes Book 1) Page 7

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, standing. ‘You are both very kind.’

  Lord Torbay smiled and rang the bell. A maid appeared to escort her up the stairs and along what seemed like an endless maze of corridors.

  ‘My name is Betsy, my lady,’ she said. ‘His lordship says I am to take care of your every need.’

  ‘Thank you, Betsy, but my only need right now is for a soft bed and solitude.’

  ‘That’s easily arranged, ma’am. Here we are.’ Betsy opened the door to a sumptuous chamber and stood back to let Eva pass through it ahead of her. ‘I hope this is to your satisfaction.’

  Eva wanted to laugh hysterically. If Betsy could have seen her living accommodation up until that morning she would probably be shocked into giving notice. A bed of soft hay in a stable would be more satisfactory than the constant noise, smell and danger she had felt in Whitechapel. She bit back a smile and looked around the bright, tastefully decorated bedchamber with delight.

  ‘It is perfect,’ she said, eyeing the bed greedily.

  ‘I’ll help you out of your gown, ma’am,’ Betsy said. ‘The bed’s already been warmed through so I’ll leave you to rest after that. Then, later I’ll bring you your tea and I expect you would like a bath.’

  Eva closed her eyes and groaned at the thought of hot water caressing her body. Of washing her greasy hair, drying it in front of the fire and brushing it until some of its former sheen was restored. Whitechapel had left many of its marks on her, she supposed. The fine layer of dirt could be removed from her skin and hair. The internal damage would take longer to eradicate.

  ‘That would be wonderful, Betsy.’

  Eva allowed herself to be undressed, obediently seating herself so that Betsy could let her hair down and brush it out. If felt so good to cede responsibility for herself to someone else, just for a short time. She closed her eyes as the rhythmic motion of Betsy’s brush agitating her scalp almost lulled her into sleep.

  ‘You have lovely hair, my lady.’

  ‘What…oh, thank you.’ Eva’s eyes flew open. ‘It is sorely in need of a wash.’

  ‘Well, that’s easily arranged.’ She put aside the brush. ‘Right, here we are.’

  Eva hadn’t realised she was down to her shift until Betsy held out a delicate lawn nightgown, encouraging Eva to put it on. It slipped over her head and whispered down the length of her body like an evocative promise. Eva shuddered, feeling once again a strong premonition of both danger and excitement. She was about to cross into uncharted territory. She couldn’t say how precisely, or even in what respect. She simply knew it was the case.

  And far from being afraid, the prospect excited her.

  ‘This isn’t mine,’ she said, almost to herself.

  ‘I hope it meets with your approval, my lady.’

  How could it not, Eva wondered, fingering the long sleeves as Betsy tied it at the neck. ‘Who does it belong to?’ she asked.

  ‘I really couldn’t say,’ the maid replied, sounding evasive.

  ‘About my gown, Betsy.’ It was the only one she had and Eva suddenly realised it was hardly fit to be seen, especially since she would be required to dine with two sophisticated gentlemen that evening. Not that it really mattered. She had far more important things to worry about than her appearance, but still… ‘Perhaps you would do what you can to make it respectable enough for tonight.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that, my lady. Just leave everything to me.’

  Betsy pulled the covers back, Eva slid between them and sank into the soft mattress with another appreciative groan. Now that she was safe, at least for the moment, she expected to be kept awake by guilty thoughts of Grace. How could she possibly sleep when her daughter was probably pining for want of her?

  She fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

  It was too good to be true, of course, and no sooner had she drifted into a light doze than someone pulled the curtains aside and woke her again. She was instantly alert and sat bolt upright, taking a moment to recall where she was.

  ‘What is it? What’s happening?’

  Betsy’s concerned face loomed into view. ‘Calm yourself, my lady. I didn’t mean to startle you.’

  ‘What time is it? How long have I been asleep?’

  ‘Above five hours.’

  ‘Five hours!’

  It couldn’t possibly be true. Eva hadn’t even dreamed. She always had highly colourful dreams that continued to plague her long after she woke, but if she’d had dreams this time she couldn’t remember any of them. She glanced out of the window and saw the sun was low in the sky, proving Betsy’s point. She really had slept the day away, and felt rejuvenated as a consequence. Betsy placed a tea tray across her lap and poured for her. There was a plate of delicate sandwiches and fresh cakes, which Eva did justice to as well. When she had drunk two cups of tea and finished most of the food, Betsy removed the tray and asked her if she was ready for her bath.

  ‘Absolutely. Lead the way.’

  There was a modern bathroom attached to the bedroom and a steaming bath awaited her. Eva shed her nightgown and shift and stepped into the water with keen anticipation. Betsy sponged her back but Eva insisted upon washing the rest of her body for herself, taking her time, feeling the lifeblood slowly flowing back into her veins.

  ‘Shall I wash your hair for you, ma’am?’

  ‘Is there time to dry it before dinner?’

  ‘Yes, plenty.’

  ‘Then please do.’

  Surviving Whitechapel and washing all traces of it from her body would give her spirits a small boost. Eva’s desire to look her best had absolutely nothing to do with impressing her hosts. She was not that shallow.

  Dry from the bath, Eva became suspicious when Betsy produced delicate silk undergarments that she definitely did not own.

  ‘I believe his lordship sent out for a few things he thought you might need,’ Betsy replied in response to Eva’s raised eyebrows.

  ‘Did he indeed?’

  Eva wasn’t sure what to make of that, nor did she refer to the matter again in Betsy’s hearing. Instead she sat beside the roaring fire in her new drawers, shift and stays while Betsy worked her magic with the hairbrush once again, chattering away about anything and nothing.

  ‘How long have you worked here?’ Eva asked when Betsy temporarily ran out of things to say.

  ‘Five years, my lady.’

  ‘Do you enjoy your work?’

  ‘Oh yes. His lordship is a firm but fair master and he treats us all well. We’re lucky to have our positions here. No one ever leaves him.’

  Such unmitigated praise from a servant was unusual. Eva had grown up being waited on hand and foot and knew servants spoke as they found—at least when confronted with outsiders such as Eva. That Lord Torbay could inspire such loyalty in his staff told her a lot about his character.

  Her hair was now dry and Betsy set about dressing it, humming to herself as she worked. Instead of opting for the usual fashionable braided crown, she arranged it in a slightly puffed style, leaving curls playing around her face.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Lost in thought, Eva glanced at her reflection and noticed Betsy had entwined the bulk of her hair with lappets of blue and gold ribbon. ‘It looks lovely but will hardly go with my gown.’

  Betsy grinned, turned to the closet and produced a gown that made Eva gasp.

  ‘Where did that come from? It’s beautiful,’ she said, gently fingering the fine silk, ‘but it hardly qualifies as sending out for a few things.’

  ‘You’ll have to ask his lordship, ma’am. It’s not my place to say.’

  Betsy held out the petticoats. She most certainly would ask him, Eva thought as she stepped into them. She couldn’t accept such a gift, but nor could she resist wearing it, just this once. With a heavy sigh that didn’t entirely disguise the pleasure she took from beautiful clothes, she slipped into the gown and breathed in as Betsy tightened the laces.

  ‘Aw, ma’am, y
ou look a picture and that’s a fact.’

  Eva glanced at her reflection and had to agree the gown was a sensation. In white grounded silk, the skirt was elegantly woven with a pattern of full-blown roses and foliage in blue to match the ribbons in her hair. The plain white body and sleeves were relieved with broad bands of blue embossed velvet and pearl ornaments. Her waist appeared tiny and her breasts spilled from the bodice in a manner that would have given William palpitations if he had known she was wearing it while dining with other men. That thought quelled any lingering doubts and she slipped her feet defiantly into the blue slippers that went with the gown, unsurprised to discover they were a perfect fit.

  ‘Thank you, Betsy, you have worked miracles.’

  ‘It was a pleasure to be of service, my lady.’

  ‘Now, perhaps you’d better escort me to the dining room or I shall be late. This house is so large that I will never find my way unaccompanied.’

  Chapter Seven

  Jake and Isaac, in formal evening dress, stood in the drawing room savouring their whisky as they awaited Lady Eva’s arrival.

  ‘What if she has decided to leave?’ Isaac asked anxiously. ‘We gave our word we wouldn’t try to prevent her.’

  ‘She won’t leave.’

  ‘How can you be so sure? She probably one of the few women in London able to resist your rather disgusting charm.’

  Jake laughed. ‘She has nowhere to go, other than back to Woodstock. Besides, for reasons that escape me, she appears to enjoy your company.’

  ‘You think so?’ Isaac flashed a wicked smile. ‘If only things were different, then I would—’

  ‘I am well aware what you would like to do,’ Jake replied affably.

  ‘She’s vulnerable and has been badly used by her family. She needs someone to look out for her interests. Damn it, Jake, she needs protecting.’

  ‘Protection, certainly, but don’t lose sight of the fact that she’s also married and beholden to us. She is a charming distraction, I’ll grant you that, but we have an assignment that will be harder to discharge now that we have decided not to involve her.’ Jake paused to rub his chin. ‘I had been relying rather too heavily on her willingness to oblige us. That was a miscalculation.’

  ‘She isn’t married through choice. If she can regain custody of her daughter and freedom from Woodstock, do you suppose she would choose to remain true to him?’

  Jake shook his head. ‘It’s a moot point, Isaac. All the time Woodstock breathes, he won’t let her go. As thing stand, she will never feel safe enough to put her own desires first; especially all the time she is separated from her daughter.’

  ‘All the more reason to expose Woodstock’s part in the plot to steal the diamond.’

  ‘The Home Secretary doesn’t care about Woodstock. He’s more interested in learning the identity of the man who put him up to it.’

  ‘Then we shall give him that man, and Woodstock also.’ Isaac put his glass aside and rubbed his hands together in gleeful anticipation. ‘Two for the price of one. That ought to give satisfaction all round.’

  ‘To whom?’ Jake chuckled. ‘However, I’m glad to see you suddenly so enthusiastic to get results.’

  ‘Enthusiastic, absolutely,’ Isaac agreed, the enthusiasm in question leaving him as quickly as it had arrived. ‘But how shall we go about delivering? Without Lady Eva to intercede, I’m not sure Franklin can get the information we need, even though he is in the house.’

  Jake scowled. ‘I still have to work that part out.’

  ‘Woodstock must meet with his contact. It’s just a case of following him.’

  ‘How often have we tried that?’ Jake’s scowl intensified, etching his brow with deep furrows. ‘We know he sometimes meets a person in Hyde Park but we have no idea whom. We’ve tried following the other person’s carriage but have never managed to discover who’s actually in it. It’s always a Hansom, always hired in different locations, and the jarveys never actually see their customer’s face.’

  It was Isaac’s turn to scowl. ‘The blaggard’s toying with us.’

  ‘No one said this would be easy. If it was, the Home Secretary wouldn’t need us. All we can do now is wait for Franklin’s next communication. We have time yet, which means someone might make a mistake that will give us the edge. Woodstock doesn’t have those Sikhs under proper control. If he did, that murder never would have occurred.’ Jake refilled their glasses. ‘I take heart from that, at least.’

  ‘What do we do while we wait?’ Isaac asked. ‘I hate inactivity.’

  Jake grinned. ‘Entertaining our lovely house guest ought to keep you occupied.’

  ‘But I thought you just said—’

  ‘She needs to feel she can trust us. I shall be going out immediately after dinner. I have new arrangements to make, and so I’m afraid the burden of entertaining Lady Eva will fall to you.’

  ‘Do you not need me to come with you?’ Isaac tried not to show how much he would prefer to remain with Lady Eva.

  Jake chuckled. ‘I wouldn’t be that cruel. Besides, I’m sure you will have a much better time without me.’

  ‘I don’t understand you.’ Isaac scowled. ‘One moment you’re warning me off Lady Eva, the next you’re leaving the field clear and actively encouraging me.’

  ‘All I am warning you against is getting ideas about permanent involvement.’ Jake shrugged. ‘Anything you can do to persuade her to stay here with us, without crossing boundaries, of course, is another matter.’

  A swish of silk alerted them to Lady Eva’s arrival. They turned in unison and blinked at the vision that greeted them. Gone was the tired and frightened creature whom they had confronted that morning. Isaac already knew that Lady Eva was a beautiful woman. Turned out in a fashionable evening gown she was nothing short of sensational. No wonder Woodstock was so enamoured of her.

  Jake was the first to recover his composure. He stepped up to her and bowed.

  ‘I don’t need to ask if you are feeling rested,’ he said, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. ‘You look ravishing.’

  ‘I need to ask you about this gown.’

  ‘Oh, that.’ Isaac suppressed a smile as he watched Jake wave a hand in casual dismissal of what was probably intended to be a severe interrogation. Isaac didn’t blame their lovely visitor for being suspicious. Anyone could see the gown had cost a small fortune and Lady Eva must wonder what Jake expected from her in return. ‘Think nothing of it.’

  ‘But I think a very great deal of it.’ She took a glass of champagne from Parker with a nod of thanks. ‘I cannot accept expensive gifts of clothing from you.’

  ‘Then look upon it as a loan.’

  ‘A loan! Don’t be so obtuse—’

  ‘It’s probably best not to argue with him,’ Isaac said with a knowing grin. ‘He will have his way, you know.’

  A tiny smile slipped past Lady Eva’s guard, implying she enjoyed wearing the gown almost as much as he enjoyed seeing her in it.

  ‘Be that as it may. I did not agree to remain here in the expectation of your clothing me, Lord Torbay.’

  Jake shook his head, the ghost of a smile flirting with his lips. ‘You appear set upon spoiling my little pleasures.’

  ‘Little! I would hardly say—’

  ‘Dinner is served, my lord,’ Parker said from the open doorway, bringing Jake and Lady Eva’s battle of wills to a timely end.

  ‘Good,’ Jake replied. ‘I’m sharp set.’

  ‘And I am not so easily deterred from my purpose,’ Lady Eva replied, shaking a finger at Jake. ‘We shall talk of this matter again.’

  ‘But not, I hope, over the dinner table. I do so dislike it when disagreements interfere with a decent meal,’ Jake remarked.

  ‘No,’ she agreed with a weary sigh. ‘By all means, we must enjoy our dinner.’

  Isaac proffered his arm to Lady Eva, she placed her hand on his sleeve and the three of them walked through to the adjoining dining room. Isaac noticed their gu
est ate more sparingly than she had that morning, but still did justice to the many courses set before her. He and Jake entertained her with idle gossip, updating her on the situations of people known to her. They made her laugh aloud when they recounted various squabbles between some of the more senior matriarchs gracing society’s ranks.

  ‘Speaking of whom, how have you managed to evade the matchmaking mamas all these years, if you don’t mind my asking?’ Lady Eva enquired. ‘You must both be prime targets and I know how determined they can be.’

  ‘By avoiding an awful lot of social engagements where we’re likely to be targeted,’ Jake replied. ‘We enjoy our independence and are not yet ready to take the plunge.’

  ‘But surely you have a duty to produce an heir, Lord Torbay, and keep the title alive?’

  ‘There’s time yet,’ he answered evasively.

  ‘In my case I am under no such pressure,’ Isaac told her. ‘I have two older brothers who seem to take the matter of procreation exceedingly seriously.’

  She laughed. ‘How fortunate.’

  Their conversation continued in similar vein, with Lady Eva coaxing them to talk about their families and interests. She was very good at it, Isaac thought. She sat between them, eyes sparkling with amusement as she drew them out. Born to bringing out the best in people without appearing to try, she had lost none of her skill in the years since her marriage, even though she had probably had precious little opportunity to put it into practice. Isaac was happy to submit to her teasing admonishments about his disinclination to marry and the torment that must cause to the myriad aspirants for his hand. He was glad to observe her gradually relaxing in their company as the fear that had been resident in her eyes the entire day slowly receded. She was coming to terms with the fact that she was safe, at least for the time being, and it had a most beneficial effect upon her demeanour.