Heirs and Graces Page 9

  Before they could alight from the carriage at the end of their journey, the door to Olivia’s smart town house was opened to them by Green. Olivia bustled from the drawing room to greet them in person. Typical of her not to wait for them to be announced, Jake thought with a wry smile.

  His smile turned into a suppressed groan when he noticed her attire. This morning she was wearing a gown that lacked hoops or adornments of any sort; clearly a gown that she liked to wear for comfort in her home when she was not expecting visitors. But she had known her note would bring him to her, surely? Why had she not changed? That damned gown was all but diaphanous; her modesty spared only by the flimsy petticoat she wore beneath it. The fabric sculpted her svelte form, largely because she had foregone her stays. Such behaviour would be unthinkable for the majority of ladies. Jake was not surprised to discover that Olivia didn’t conform to society’s expectations. He would have admired her less if she had. But, damn it, not only were he and Fergus here to observe the results of her unconventionality, but she had male servants too. Green might be old, but he still had eyes. Finch most definitely did and he was not old.

  Perdition, he was jealous of a damned footman!

  Their gazes met, hers challenging, his… he didn’t want to think what his expression gave away about his private thoughts but he simply couldn’t find the strength to avert his gaze from the vision that confronted him. Each time they met he lost another battle with his conscience and fell deeper under her thrall.

  What in the name of Hades was she doing to him?

  Jake reminded himself that he absolutely could not afford to act upon his impulses. He wanted her quite desperately and thought of her constantly. But he had made more than his fair share of enemies during the course of his work, both for the government and when righting wrongs perpetrated by those influential enough to escape the attention of the judicial process. More than one ne’er-do-well had sworn to revenge himself upon Jake. Jake took those threats seriously and avoided any public displays of weakness that would give his enemies the edge. If anyone even suspected just how ardently he desired Olivia she would make an obvious target for their revenge, ripping Jake’s heart to shreds in the process.

  All the time he continued with his work, and even long after he had given it up, Jake must content himself with admiring Olivia from afar. It was the only way to keep her safe, but if she even suspected that he had appointed himself as her guardian she would take extreme exception to such presumption. She took pride in her ability to look after herself, but he had good reason to know that his enemies did not fight fair.

  Olivia insisted that she had no intention of taking another husband. Jake believed she was sincere—for now. How he would react, how he would contain his jealousy if she was persuaded to change her mind, he couldn’t begin to imagine. He refused to think about it because whenever he did so a red mist of anger blurred his vision and made rational reflection impossible. His fierce patriotism, his determination to do all he could in the service of his country, sometimes seemed like a huge sacrifice. But Jake had not stopped to consider all the ramifications when he had been recruited as a young man, and it was too late to turn the clock back.

  ‘Good morning, Fergus.’ Olivia sent Jake a probing glance, which reminded him that he was still staring at her. ‘You must excuse my attire. I was not expecting company, but I don’t suppose you even noticed. Jake has seen me wearing considerably less.’

  Fergus choked, requiring Jake to give him a firm slap on the back.

  ‘Olivia meant that I have seen her dressed in breeches when we fence against one another,’ Jake said in a languid tone, in control of himself again.

  Fergus grinned. ‘Ah, I dare say that is what she meant.’

  ‘Where is Miss Armitage?’ Jake asked.

  ‘In the drawing room with Eva. She was very distressed when she arrived but is calmer now.’ Olivia wrinkled her brow. ‘What do you make of her sudden appearance, Jake?’

  ‘Since I have yet to make her acquaintance, it is hard for me to express an opinion. But it seems odd that she took her family by surprise in refusing Mason. Presumably they thought her amenable to the match.’

  ‘Ah well,’ she sent him a playful look. ‘Perhaps I am partially to blame for that.’

  Jake shook his head. ‘You only made her acquaintance yesterday. Even you could not have persuaded her to rebel that quickly.’

  ‘You do me a disservice.’ Olivia gave the impression of being offended but spoiled the effect by allowing a mischievous smile to slip past her guard. Jake looked away, endeavouring to remain detached. It was a difficult ambition for him to achieve since she was never more appealing than when the devil got into her. Tumbling her onto a bed and smothering that smile with his lips seemed like an appropriate and highly desirable chastisement. ‘Eva and I both pointed out to Amelia that we had made unhappy marriages in order to please our families and you do not need me to remind you how those unions turned out.’

  ‘Not all arranged marriages are unhappy,’ Fergus said.

  ‘Are they not?’ Olivia seemed surprised to hear it. ‘Perhaps you are right, but anyway, in Amelia’s case, her papa told her that love only existed between the pages of novels. Happily Eva is in a position to put her straight on that score.’ A sultry smile touched Olivia’s lips. ‘I myself am not qualified to give advice.’

  ‘Naturally not.’ Jake schooled his features into an impassive expression. ‘One of Parker’s men followed Mason to Falconer’s apartment after he left the party disappointed.’

  ‘Now we make progress!’ Olivia’s breath caught in her throat and her face flushed with excitement. ‘Mabel’s father must have known about his employer’s political leanings and that information got him abducted.’ She shuddered. ‘Or worse. It might also explain why Armitage was so keen for his daughter to marry Mason. He didn’t court her with any particular enthusiasm. Presumably pressure was brought upon him to sacrifice himself for the cause.’ She frowned. ‘But what cause, Jake? What are Armitage and Mason involved with?’

  ‘The Radicals have ambitious plans,’ Fergus told her, ‘but we do not know what they are or why they would require Mason to marry Miss Armitage.’

  ‘Then perhaps I can shed some light.’

  Olivia explained about Miss Armitage’s highly unusual trust fund.

  ‘That could well be it,’ he said. ‘Political dissidence is an expensive business. Loyalties need to be purchased, secrecy bought. Presumably Falconer has offered Mason some inducement in return for marrying the chit and gaining access to her fortune.’

  ‘Amelia is the one who would be making sacrifices!’ Olivia said hotly. ‘I am not acquainted with Mason but have no difficulty in believing that he is arrogant, aloof, thinks far too well of himself, and is undeserving of my new friend’s regard.’

  ‘I am sure he is all of those things,’ Jake replied, amused by Olivia’s staunch defence of a woman she barely knew. He grasped her elbow and turned her towards the drawing room. ‘Shall we see if she is willing to help us against her family?’

  Olivia paused to consider that question. ‘She is absolutely determined not to return to her father’s house. I cannot blame her for that. It sounds like a joyless establishment, in which no one is kind to her. But rebellion is still new to her and although she does not much like her father, whether she would try to deliberately undermine him is another matter entirely.’

  ‘Then we must tread carefully. It wouldn’t do to reveal too much about our purpose until we are sure we can trust her.’ He gave way to temptation and placed his free hand on the small of Olivia’s back. The warmth from her skin seeped through the flimsy fabric of her gown, warming parts of him that required an influx of blood the least. ‘After you, my dear.’

  Chapter Eight

  Fergus followed Olivia and Jake into her drawing room. Eva Woodstock sat on a settee in front of Olivia’s fire. Beside her sat a young lady; obviously Miss Armitage.

  ‘Amelia, my dear.’
Olivia took the young woman’s arm as she stood. ‘These are my friends Lord Torbay and Lord Willard. Gentleman, may I present Miss Amelia Armitage?’

  Miss Armitage curtsied and almost toppled over. Fergus reached out a hand to steady her, causing the young woman’s cheeks to flame with embarrassment.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she stuttered.

  ‘No harm done,’ Fergus replied amiably.

  He chuckled to himself. She had the strength of character to defy a domineering father and decline an advantageous offer of marriage but couldn’t manage a simple curtsey. Few ladies could afford the luxury of marrying for love, Fergus knew. If Miss Armitage was in possession of a large fortune that no one knew about, she would not be pursued for her money and could take her time in selecting a spouse.

  ‘Good morning, Miss Armitage,’ Jake said.

  Her blush deepened when Fergus smiled at the young woman. She wasn’t as tall as Olivia—few ladies were. She had light brown hair, grey eyes that were clouded with anxiety and features that were commonplace. She wore a gown that owed little to fashion and much to practicality. One might easily pass her in a crowd, unless one took the trouble to look more closely. There was a fragility about her that defied the strength of character it must have taken to resist the demands of a father accustomed to total obedience. Her eyes widened as Fergus took her hand and shook it, thinking that in an unremarkable sort of way, she was really quite remarkable.

  ‘Olivia said I ought to meet you gentlemen,’ she said in a soft, melodious voice. ‘That you would have some questions for me. I cannot imagine what they might be but I am entirely at your service.’

  ‘Shall we all sit down?’ Olivia ushered them to the arrangement of chairs in front of the fire. Jake and Fergus waited for the ladies to seat themselves before they took chairs themselves. Fergus chose the one next to Miss Armitage’s and smiled at her. He could sense her nervousness manifesting itself in the way she anxiously laced her fingers together in her lap, and hoped his relaxed manner would put her at her ease. ‘Green, some tea, if you please,’ Olivia said.

  ‘At once, ma’am.’

  ‘I hope you will excuse me for discussing personal matters with you, Miss Armitage,’ Jake said. ‘Please be assured that I have a very good reason for doing so; otherwise I would not presume to interfere in your affairs.’

  Miss Armitage blinked in evident surprise. ‘Olivia says I can trust you and speak freely in front of you, my lord, and that you shoulder considerable responsibility. That being the case, if my business is of interest to you then I am happy to discuss it with you. What would you like to know?’

  ‘I understand Raymond Mason proposed to you and that you did not accept him.’

  She flashed a surprised look at Olivia and then nodded. ‘He did and, yes, I will not marry him.’

  ‘Because you did not think you would suit?’

  ‘It was simpler than that, my lord. I do not love him and am absolutely convinced he does not love me. I see daily evidence of a recent yet loveless marriage. My brother, you understand.’ Both gentleman nodded. ‘If indifference can blossom so rapidly then I will not follow their example.’ Miss Armitage tilted her chin defiantly. ‘I would prefer to die an old maid rather than be treated as an irrelevance.’

  Olivia nodded her approval. ‘Well said, my dear.’

  ‘What do you know about Mason?’ Jake asked.

  Miss Armitage took a moment to consider the question. ‘Not a great deal, now that I think about it. Papa first introduced us a few months ago. He called at the house, which is unusual. We seldom have visitors, or entertain. Papa conducts all of his business at the glassworks and likes to relax when he is at home. But Mr Mason called one evening, by prior arrangement, and dined with us. Papa encouraged me to…well, to encourage him. He told me as much before Mr Mason arrived. I engaged him in conversation because I always do what Papa asks of me.’ She paused and her grey eyes flashed with emotion. ‘Up until now.’

  ‘What did you talk about?’ Fergus asked. ‘Did he tell you about his relations? His work? His plans for the future?’

  ‘Actually, no. I recall asking him once about his family, he said that he didn’t have any and changed the subject. He talked a bit about architecture, how keen he was to champion a resurrection of the Gothic style. He had drawn up plans for buildings of that type and was waiting to secure sponsors so that he could advance the project.’

  ‘Your fortune?’ Jake suggested.

  She sent Olivia a questioning glance. ‘You know about that?’

  ‘Don’t be angry with me, Amelia,’ Olivia implored. ‘Nothing that is said about your affairs in this house will leave it without your prior consent. You can rely absolutely on Lord Torbay’s discretion.’

  Miss Armitage relaxed her stiff posture. ‘I dare say, but I cannot see what bearing my fortune might have had on Mr Mason’s declaration. Even if he knows about it, I am sure it is nowhere near enough to finance his ambitious plans.’

  ‘Would the trustees be more likely to release it for that purpose if he was your husband and you supported his endeavours?’ Olivia asked in a speculative tone.

  ‘Possibly.’ Miss Armitage conceded the point with a nod. ‘I really couldn’t say.’

  ‘Was lack of mutual affection your only reason for declining Mr Mason?’ Jake asked.

  ‘Actually, no. I’ve thought about it since and have concluded that I sometimes sensed a dark side to his character. He concealed it well but no one will persuade me it is not there. I caught him trying to beat a crossing boy once for not clearing a proper path for him. He stood in some horse droppings as a consequence, which happens all the time. His reaction was out of all proportion to the poor boy’s inability to do his work quickly enough.’

  ‘He sounds most unsavoury,’ Olivia said, shuddering.

  ‘What of your father?’ Jake asked. ‘Does he intend to expand his glassworks?’

  She lifted her shoulders. ‘If he does, I am the last person he would confide in.’

  ‘Of course he would not.’ Jake smiled at her. ‘Do you often visit the factory yourself?’

  ‘Rarely. Occasionally, there is a message that comes to the house for Papa that needs to be delivered and I make myself useful by carrying it to him.’

  ‘Excuse me, but I thought you said he conducted all of his business from the glassworks. Why would messages come to the house?’

  ‘That I could not say. Sealed letters are sometimes delivered to the house, marked for his eyes only. It would be futile to speculate upon their contents.’

  Fergus glanced at Jake, who was probably thinking the same thing as him. If Armitage was connected to the Radicals and they needed to urgently contact him, their couriers would stand less chance of being notice by curious eyes if they sent word to Armitage’s home. Armitage could rely upon his dutiful daughter to deliver messages without asking questions or trying to read the missives.

  Jake stood and paced the length of the room. No one spoke as he considered his next question. They could gain nothing more from Miss Armitage unless they trusted her; tested her newfound independence. It was a risk. Time and again blood really had proved thicker than water and Miss Armitage had not had sufficient time to consider the implications of her impulsive flight from her father’s care at any length. Be that as it may, time was of the essence and they needed to be guided by their instincts. In Jake’s place, Fergus would take a chance on Miss Armitage being a person of strong character and principles.

  ‘Do you know any of the people who work for your father?’ Jake asked, clearly having reached the same conclusion. ‘Specifically any of the women?’

  ‘What a very strange question.’ Miss Armitage’s expression turned quizzical as she paused to sip at her tea. ‘There are not many women. Most of the work is carried out by men. I did speak once or twice with a pretty young girl who sorts the fragments of glass. I remember her precisely because she was pretty enough to stand out. Her name is Mabel. I rather liked her and thought
we could have been friends. That was not really possible, of course, because Papa discouraged intimacy with his workforce. Boundaries had to be maintained, so he was fond of reminding us.’

  Tell that to your brother, Fergus thought.

  ‘But actually, now that I think of it, I heard Mabel’s name mentioned between Papa and my brother quite recently.’ She furrowed her brow. ‘They did not know I was at home. I was supposed to have gone out with Edith but made an excuse at the last moment. I infinitely prefer a book to her company. Anyway, I don’t know why Papa was so angry with Henry but then, Papa is perpetually angry about something or other. It is exhausting trying to keep on his good side. Anyway, he was ranting at poor Henry on this occasion. I think I heard it said that Mabel was not working at the factory anymore and nor was her father. He is a manager there…or was. It is most unusual for people to give up good positions but I expect they had their reasons.’

  ‘The best possible reasons,’ Jake replied. He nodded to Olivia, who left the room.

  ‘How are you enjoying your first morning of freedom?’ Fergus asked Miss Armitage as they waited for Olivia to return. Jake had fallen into a separate conversation with Eva.

  ‘I keep feeling the need to pinch myself,’ she replied, her lips curving upwards into a pretty smile. She had a very attractive mouth, Fergus noticed. It was arguably one of her best features and when she smiled spontaneously her faced ceased to be commonplace. She had a flawless complexion and delicately arched brows. Her lashes were long and cast shadows over her flushed cheeks as she lowered her eyelids. ‘I still cannot believe that I found the courage to defy Papa. It just goes to show the lengths one is prepared to go to if one feels oneself being coerced into a decision one instinctively knows is wrong, I suppose.’