Richard sat forward. “Because someone I care about was almost killed last week. Someone
Mr. Brown
wants silenced.”
“Then this is a personal matter for you as well as a national one.” Lord Denley nodded. “I will do my best to help you as quickly as possible.”
“Thank you.” Richard smiled at his mentor. “And have you any idea where Lord Keyes is?”
“Keyes? Why, do you think he is involved in this?”
“I'm certain he is involved. He was the one who got me tangled up in this matter in the first place.”
“Do you suspect him?”
“I'm not sure.” Richard rose from his seat. “I'd just like to speak to him.”
“You never got on very well, did you?” Lord Denley chuckled. “Too alike, I fear.”
“Probably,” Richard acknowledged. “If you see him, tell him I wish to speak to him.”
“I will, and I'll get straight on that other matter.” Lord Denley held out his hand. “Good night, Richard, and thank you for calling on me. I'll do my best for you, I swear it.”
Â
“Jack!” Violet hissed. “You scared me! What time is it?” She clutched the bed covers to her chest and slowly sat up as her twin set a single candle by the bed.
“It's past one in the morning. Why, were you asleep?” He glanced around the shadowed bedchamber. “And where is Mr. Ross?”
“He doesn't sleep with me.”
“That's not what I meant. I saw him leaving about ten minutes ago.”
Violet stiffened. “He told me he was going to bed.”
“Then he lied, my dear. Perhaps he's off visiting his latest mistress.” Jack settled himself on the bed beside her and took her hand. “How are you, by the way?”
“I'm feeling a lot better and getting rather tired of being confined in this small space.” Violet eyed the billowing curtains. “Did you come through the window?”
Jack got up and slid the sash window down. “I didn't think March would let me in at this late hour and I wanted to talk to you.”
Violet scowled at him. “About what?”
“What Richard is up to, for one? I followed him, you know, and he went to a house about two streets east of here. It wasn't a house I recognized, but I will find out who lives there.”
“I told him about Mr. Brown. He said he had an acquaintance in the government who might be able to help us. Perhaps he went out to see this man.”
“Or he went running straight to Mr. Brown himself. Did he give you any idea if he knew what was going on?”
“No.” Violet sighed and sank back onto her pillows. “I think he wanted to believe me, though.”
“That's because he is still in love with you.”
Violet met his gaze. “No, he is not. He never was.”
Jack squeezed her hand. “You can say the words, love, but I see the truth in your eyes and in his. You are kindred souls.”
“Then perhaps we will meet again in heaven.” Violet pulled her hand away. “Go away, Jack. I'm tired.”
“And frustrated, I'll wager, if he's not sharing your bed.” He considered her for a long moment. “What would you say to a night of unbridled passion at the pleasure house?”
“Not with you.”
“No, with Richard Ross.”
“As I said, he doesn't want me.”
“He wants you. He's fucked you.”
“But only . . .” Violet glared at her twin. “He treats me like a man.”
“Ah, hence your frustration.” His smile was devilish. “Which is why you might wish to consider attending the pleasure house on Tuesday evening. The second level is closed off to the majority of the guests, and those who choose to . . . express themselves differently are given free rein.”
“What do you mean?”
Jack shrugged. “Men who prefer to dress as women do so, and women who wish to be men find the partners they desire. You could attend as a woman.” He bent and kissed her cheek. “Just a suggestion, my dear. Richard could hardly refuse you then.”
He slid off the bed and blew her an airy kiss. “I'll find out who Richard is visiting and let you know as soon as I can. Good night, my love.”
Violet waved him away and then lay sleepless staring up at the plasterwork on the ceiling until she heard the faint sounds of Richard returning and March relinquishing his post watching over her.
Despite everything, she still wanted Richard, wanted to be free of her confinement and free of fear. He was still the only person apart from Jack she trusted to keep her safe. She swallowed hard. Making love to Richard wouldn't solve anything, but it might be her last opportunity to try and show him how she felt before her assassin completed his task. Because Jack was right, damn him. She still loved Richard and she probably always would.
11
E
mily glanced up at Jack Lennox as he held the door open for her. He wore a long black coat and brown trousers that fitted him to perfection. His waistcoat was also black with silver buttons.
“It is very kind of you to accompany me, Mr. Lennox. I do hope I'm not taking you away from your mother or your poor, sick brother. How is he, by the way?”
“Progressing nicely, Miss Ross. I expect him to be back on his feet in the next day or two. And my mother is visiting Lady Fisher, so she is very happily occupied.” His smile was dazzling. “I am quite at your disposal and, I confess, quite intrigued by your request for my company.”
Emily sighed. “I know I shouldn't have asked you, but Richard seems to have disappeared and Ambrose . . .”
“I heard that Ambrose had rediscovered his childhood sweetheart. Is that why you are annoyed with him?”
“I'm not annoyed. I just don't understand how he insists I am too far above him to love, and yet seems to find plenty of time to moon around this Lady Mary person.”
Jack checked the street and then guided Emily across. “It's quite simple, Miss Ross. Ambrose is rediscovering a part of his life he thought lost.”
“Lady Mary is part of the family who discarded him like dirt in the gutter. How can he not see that?”
“As far as I understand it, she was still a child when he left. He probably doesn't associate her with that part of his life at all.”
“And what am I supposed to do? Stand by and watch him fall in love with her?”
Jack patted her gloved hand. “He won't do that. He is in love with you.”
“He has a strange way of showing it, then,” Emily huffed.
“He is a man, Miss Ross. None of us is very good at understanding what a woman wants.”
“Apart from you.” Emily cast him a sidelong glance. “You are a rake of the first order.”
“Indeed, I am.” He hailed a hackney. “But I'm hardly trustworthy. I think we're far enough away from your house to start our journey without being seen. Where exactly is our destination?”
“The Angel Inn at Islington.”
Jack gave the driver the information and handed Emily into the hackney.
“What do you require of me, Miss Ross? Am I to remain hidden, or do you want me with you?”
“I want you with me.” Emily shivered. “The man I am to meet frightens me a little.”
“Then I promise I will remain close.” Jack patted his pocket. “I have my pistol and my dagger ready to use if you are in any danger.”
“Thank you,” Emily said.
“You are more than welcome, Miss Ross.”
Emily stared out of the grimy window until they reached their destination and Jack handed her down. Despite his pleasant exterior, Emily didn't doubt that Jack Lennox could defend himself and her. The Angel looked to be a prosperous place with a busy trade.
“Miss Ross, where did you arrange to meet Mr. Smith?”
“In one of the private parlors.” She looked up at Jack. “Do you think you could inquire for me?”
“Of course.”
She followed Jack inside and waited while he conversed with one of the servants, who pointed them in the direction of the back of the inn and promised to fetch Mr. Smith. In the morning light, the parlor smelled of coffee and steamed cabbage and had a vaguely disused air. Emily found it impossible to sit down, so she stood in front of the fire and pretended to warm her hands.
The door opened and Jack stood up, blocking her view.
“Miss Ross?”
The familiar, rough tones of Mr. Smith reached her and she stepped forward.
“Good morning, Mr. Smith. Thank you so much for agreeing to see me again.” She glanced at Jack. “This is my friend, Mr. Lennox, who agreed to accompany me today.”
“Sir.” Mr. Smith nodded at Jack, who resumed his seat by the wall. Emily sat by the fire and Mr. Smith took the chair opposite hers. “Now, how may I help you, Miss Ross?”
“The letters and the journal that my mother left in your care . . .” She hesitated. “Thank you for sharing them with me. They were most enlightening. Were there any more of them? The journal seems to end rather abruptly.”
“There are no more letters, Miss Ross. I burned the rest of them on her instructions.”
“The ones she received from . . . from her lover.”
“Aye.”
“What about her diary?”
He smiled and she noticed he had several missing teeth. “I knew you'd turn out to be a sharp one. I still have one more of those.”
Emily waited, but he simply kept staring at her expectantly. She glanced at Jack, who was listening, a frown on his face.
“Is there something you require from Miss Ross in order for her to see the journal?” Jack asked.
Mr. Smith turned to Jack. “Well, you see, sir, it isn't quite as simple as just
giving
it to her.”
“Why not?”
“Because I believe there might be several, shall I say,
interested
parties who might want to read what's in that journal? And I am a poor man, Mr. Lennox.”
“So you want money for it?”
Emily gasped. “Why? Who would want to read the scribblings of a dead woman?”
Mr. Smith met her gaze. His eyes were a very dark brown and full of a deep hatred that chilled her to the bone. “Lord Philip Knowles, for one.”
“My father?” Emily shook her head. “Why would you want him to know about this?”
“Oh, he already knows what he did, don't worry about that.” He chuckled. “I wonder how much he will pay to reclaim that journal so that he can destroy it once and for all?” He nodded at Jack. “And don't think I'm stupid enough to have the journal here with me. It is well hidden.”
He returned his attention to Emily. “Your mother knew Lord Knowles would search for any evidence of her infidelity on her death, so she sent everything to me.”
“And why
did
she send everything to you, Mr. Smith?” Emily stood and stared at her adversary. “What exactly was your part in this?”
His smile widened. “Haven't you guessed yet? I thought you might remember me. I'm the man your mother was in love with for all those years.” He bowed to them both. “I've no more time for you now. I'll give you a week to think over what I've said and to work out how much you are prepared to offer me to save your father from public humiliation on a grand scale.”
Jack sprang to his feet, but Mr. Smith was quicker and he was out of the door before either of them could stop him. Emily went to give chase, but Jack caught her arm.
“There's no point, Miss Ross. He probably doesn't have the journal with him, and he's too dangerous for you to tackle alone.”
“But . . .”
His grip tightened. “We will use the time he gave us to defeat his schemes.” She tried to pull away from him, but he held firm. “Miss Ross, I promise you that we will not let him get away with this.”
“I cannot allow him to blacken my father's name!”
Jack drew her back to the chairs by the fire and made her sit down. “With all due respect, Miss Ross, your father is married to one of the most notorious women in London. I doubt the revelation that his first wife had a lover will raise more than a ripple of interest. You'd probably do best to lay this matter at his feet and allow him to deal with Mr. Smith as he wishes.”
Emily stared at Jack. She couldn't bear to reveal the fears that corded her throat, making her want to scream. Jack had no idea what other secrets she feared were in the remaining journal.
“Will you take me home, Mr. Lennox? Or, better still, will you help me find Richard?”
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Richard wasn't quite sure how he'd ended up in Lady Fisher's drawing room with a cup of tea balanced on his knee, while Vincent and his mother chatted merrily away to their hosts. Violet had been so desperate to get out of Richard's lodgings that she'd threatened to jump out of the window. To his dismay, she'd looked quite capable of carrying out her threat.
Richard had decided to take her out to call on the Fishers, thinking they would at least be safe there. Adam was also in attendance and knew what had happened to Violet, so he was also on his guard. There was still no sign of Keyes, which was beginning to annoy Richard, and he'd had no word from Lord Denley either.
His gaze slid to the clock on the mantelpiece, but Violet seemed in no hurry to leave. Richard resigned himself to a long visit and sat back in his seat, sipping his tea. The sound of approaching voices had him sitting up again as the butler opened the door.
“Miss Emily Ross and Mr. Jack Lennox, my lady.”
Lady Fisher rose to greet her new guests, who both seemed a little out of sorts. Richard narrowed his gaze as Jack whispered something to Emily and patted her hand. Where had they been, and why was Emily looking so distressed? Richard put his cup down on the table and went to rise. Before he could complete the motion, Emily reached him and took his hand.
“I need to speak to you quite urgently.”
“What is it?” Richard glared at Jack, who had followed Emily over. “Has Mr. Lennox been annoying you?”
“No, he has been very helpful. Can you come with me right now?”
Richard glanced at Violet, who was looking over at him, a question in her eyes.
“I need to escort Mr. Vincent Lennox and his mother home, and then I can meet you at Knowles House.”
“Richard, this is rather important,” Emily insisted. “Can't Vincent drive his own mother home?”
“He is still too weak to manage the horses.”
“Can't Jack take them?”
Richard sighed. “Emily, I can't explain why, but I have to be the one to get Vincent Lennox home safely. I swear I'll be as quick as I can.”
She met his gaze and he stared steadily back into her troubled eyes. “I promise I'll be there.”
Her smile was tremulous. “All right. Can you bring our mother's letters with you, please?”
“Is that what this is about?”
She squeezed his fingers hard. “Please, Richard. If I can trust you, can you do the same for me?”
“Of course. Now let me fetch Mrs. Lennox's coat.”
As he turned toward the door, the butler appeared with another couple behind him.
“Lady Mary Kendrick and Mr. Ambrose, my lady.”
Beside him, Emily went still. He wasn't quite sure what he expected her to do, but he reached out and put his hand firmly on her shoulder.
Lady Fisher was smiling. “Mary, what a pleasure to see you, my dear! I thought you intended to return to the country.” She turned to greet Ambrose. “Mary was telling me about you the other day. What an interesting life you have led, Mr. Ambrose. Please do sit down. I shall have to get you to come and speak of your experiences to the children who attend my charity school.”
Lady Fisher gestured at the Lennox twins, and Richard and Emily. “Have you met Mr. Ambrose before? He used to be a page boy in Lady Mary's family!”
Richard met Ambrose's resigned gaze. “Indeed, we know him quite well.”
“I work for Mr. Ross's half brother, Mr. Delornay.” Ambrose sounded his usual calm self. “I am already acquainted with all your guests.”
“How wonderful. Would you like some tea, Mary?” Lady Fisher inquired. “Mr. Ambrose? I will ring for a fresh pot. What about you, Mr. Ross?”
“Unfortunately, we must be going. Mr. Vincent Lennox still tires rather easily.”
“Indeed, he does.” Sylvia pressed her hand to Violet's brow. “He is a little warm. We must get you back to bed, my dear.” She turned to Lady Fisher. “Thank you so much for the tea.”
“You are welcome, Mrs. Lennox.” Lady Fisher looked inquiringly at Jack and Emily. “You will stay for a few minutes longer and take some refreshments, won't you?”
Richard tried to get Emily's attention, but she was ignoring him, her gaze fixed on the rather beautiful Lady Mary, who had all her attention on Ambrose. He suspected trying to prise Emily away at this moment would be impossible. But at least it gave him time to escort Sylvia home and then take Violet back to his lodgings.
He walked over to Jack, who was sitting down with all the anticipation of a man about to watch a bloody boxing match.
“Keep an eye on Emily for me, will you? And please bring her home to Knowles House within the next half an hour.”
“Naturally, Mr. Ross.” Jack replied without tearing his gaze from Emily and Lady Mary. “I'd be delighted to oblige you.”