by Laura Landon
Lily was charmed by the dowager duchess’s kindness and stunned by her suggestion that Mr. Broadmoore should make use of Lily’s expertise. The idea of helping at his auctions both tantalized and terrorized her, until Lily realized she wouldn’t necessarily be rubbing shoulders with the ton. She might very well be in a back room counting change.
“You’ll assist me, then?” Jack turned hopeful eyes on her.
“I should love to. Although—”
“Although…?”
She squared her shoulders as she always did when forced to face facts. “Although it’s possible that some of those in attendance will object to having someone from Whitechapel in their midst.”
“They won’t dare. Besides, you know what my godmother said. You should be judged by your accomplishments, not by the place of your birth.”
“You do listen to me then, dear boy,” the duchess quipped, making Jack smile, which set Lily’s heart fluttering.
“I shall wear your words like a coat of armor, Your Grace.” Lily swept a deep curtsy as she stepped aside to allow the dowager duchess to enter the carriage.
In no time they were both settled against the squabs and Jack was closing the carriage door.
“I shall look forward to your return,” he said, his eyes penetrating hers with messages she could scarcely decipher. And before she found her tongue, he stepped away and the carriage rocked forward.
Lily watched him from the carriage window until he was out of sight, but his specialness seemed to linger about her. How comforting she’d found his touch, even as it sent the blood cascading through her veins. But she dared not dwell on it. She dared not allow there to be anything special between them.
That she was from Whitechapel and Jackson Broadmoore was from nobility was only one barrier that kept them apart. There was more to Lily’s past than her place of birth. That would be the easiest part of Lily’s background to accept, the part she expected he could overlook. And forgive.
But he might never forgive her secret.
The secret she had always been very careful not to let anyone discover.
BEHOLD THE THIEF by Laura Landon
Chapter Five
By late afternoon the following Monday, Jack felt everything was ready for the auction. He made a final trip through the large area where the auction was to take place, looking at everything as if he were a patron. They would be impressed.
Once he’d made the circuit, he stood in the center of the room and took in the sight around him. Tonight’s assortment of precious objects should bring in several thousand pounds. His percentage of the profits would net him a tidy sum.
Jack couldn’t help but be happy at the way things had turned out for him. For a second son who’d had nothing to look forward to from his father and brother, he had managed quite nicely.
Jack was ready to check on the security team that had guarded his shop since the first object that was to be auctioned had arrived two days ago. He couldn’t take the chance that thieves would make off with any of the objects. The loss to his patrons, much less to himself, would be difficult to bear.
He had just turned to check the back door when one of his staff stopped him.
“Mr. Broadmoore?”
He turned back. “Yes, Carter.”
“Your father is here to see you. I showed him to your office.”
His stomach knotted in a familiar way. This was never a good sign. Jack’s father never sought him out unless it was to impart bad news of some sort, or lecture Jack again on his disapproval of Jack’s business. The fact that Jack worked for a living was an embarrassment to him. No one in all of Society worked for a living. If they didn’t have money in their own right, they married it, for pity’s sake.
“Thank you, Carter. Tell my father I’ll be right there.”
“Yes, Mr. Broadmoore.”
Jack used a few moments to compose himself. As if he didn’t have enough to occupy his mind tonight, his father had to add to his worries.
Jack forced his breathing to slow, then walked across the well-organized auction area, through the wide hallway that separated it from the showroom, and to his private offices at the back of the main showroom. He paused to steady his nerves, then entered the larger office where Carter had taken his father.
“Father,” he greeted.
“Jackson.”
Jack looked at his father and saw the worry lines that indicated something was wrong. His father seemed older today than he’d looked the last time Jack had seen him. Jack walked to an ornate cupboard and opened a glass door in the center. “Would you care for something to drink?”
“Yes, but not much. I’ve already had more than usual for this early in the evening.”
Jack poured his father a small amount and a larger amount for himself. He was sure he’d need it before this conversation with his father was over.
“Please, sit down,” he said. He handed his father his glass of brandy, then took his own and walked around the desk and sat in his chair.
“What brings you to see me? I can tell that something’s wrong.”
His father took a small sip of his brandy. “Yes, something is wrong. Your brother has just been to see me. He had some bad news to impart.”
“What’s that?”
“Constance was with child.”
“That’s excellent news,” Jack said, praying that she would give Gideon a son so the pressure would be off of him to provide an heir.
“It was excellent news until last night. Constance lost the babe she was carrying. A son.”
“Oh,” Jack said on a heavy sigh. Gideon would be devastated.
“Which means it’s more important than ever for you to find a wife and provide an heir, although I don’t see how it will happen with you mired in the working class.”
“What are you saying, Father?”
The Marquess of Riverdon lifted his glass to his lips and took a swallow. For the first time in his life, he saw his father’s hands shake as if he was nervous about what he was going to say to Jack. Or that he was nervous about Jack’s reaction to what he was going to say.
“Jackson, I know that you enjoy what you have here, but it’s time you took your responsibilities to your family seriously. Stop messing with these trifles, son, and do something serious. It’s past time you raised yourself up to your proper place in Society.”
Jack struggled to keep his temper in check, but failed. “Do something serious? Is that what you think, Father? That I am playing at this?”
“Well, look around, boy. You’re little more than a bloody peddler! Surely you can see how demeaning it is to buy and sell people’s trinkets.”
“Trinkets?” Jack rose from behind his desk and walked to his liquor cabinet. He threw the remainder of his brandy to the back of his mouth and refilled his glass. Then, he turned to face his father. “What would you say if I told you those trinkets that I am going to put up for auction tonight will at the very least bring in four thousand pounds? What would you say if I told you that a great majority of the items that are going to be sold tonight came from the homes of the very earls and marquesses and dukes of England that you consider so bloody perfect? What would you say if I told you that I see in my shop on a weekly basis as many—if not more—members of the ton than you see by attending one or two of your tedious balls in a week?”
His father threw his hands before him in a pleading gesture. “I am asking you to consider doing what is necessary in order to keep the Riverdon title and landholdings out of my brother’s hands.”
“Vincent will never carry your title,” Jack argued.
“You can’t know that! He already has two legitimate grandsons! After you and Gideon are gone, they are the Broadmoores who will inherit the Riverdon title. Surely, you can’t abide that any more than I can.”
Jack turned his back on his father and walked to the window that overlooked the street below. His uncle Vincent was a notorious rake. Scarcely a week went by that he wasn’t th
e featured headline in one scandal sheet or another. Or all of them.
“No, father. I cannot abide the thought of Uncle Vincent inheriting even one lump of Riverdon soil.”
“Then lock the doors on this place and do your duty. Find a female of impeccable breeding with a decent dowry and marry her. Get her with child so there is no way Vincent’s sons can get their hands on what is ours.”
Jack watched his father rise from his chair and walk to the door. His brain roiled with the words he wanted to hurl at his father who knew nothing of art or ambition. He wanted to stop him from leaving and tell him how important this shop was, not just to him, but to his father’s peers who sought him out daily. He wanted to explain that if it weren’t for these peddler’s trinkets, as his father had called them, Jack would have very little left in his life that he could call his own.
His brother was the rightful heir. Jack was only the spare. Nothing was required of him except to provide the next Riverdon heir if it became absolutely necessary. And if Gideon’s wife somehow carried a male child full term, Jack’s son would be no more important in the line of Riverdons than Jack himself had ever been.
Jack waited until the door closed behind his father, then sank down in the chair behind the desk. If he didn’t have such an important event in a few hours, he’d just stay here and keep refilling his glass of brandy all night.
But tonight’s event was too important. And, if he complied with his father’s wishes, this might be the last event Broadmoore’s Treasures hosted.
Lily had been keyed up all day. She somehow felt particularly pressured to look her very best, largely so that she would not detract from the perfect setting Mr. Broadmoore had engineered. And secretly because she wanted his eyes to linger on her again.
“Are you ready to go?” Liam asked when Lily reached the bottom of the stairs. He and Millie were waiting at the door.
“Yes.” Lily was unable to hide her excitement. “I thought this night would never come.”
“Are you going to buy anything?” Millie asked her when they were safely inside the carriage.
“I’m not sure. It depends how high the bidding goes on the items in which I’m interested.”
“Are the Qing vases among those you’re interested in?”
“They are at the top of my list.” Lily looked at Liam. “Do you think the dowager duchess will mind if I purchase them?”
“I don’t know why she would. She chose to sell them. I shouldn’t think she’d care who purchased them, as long as she doesn’t have to take them home.”
Lily smiled. “That’s true. I doubt she’ll care.”
“Liam told me they’re relatively expensive,” Millie added. “Do you have the funds to buy them?”
Lily reached for her sister-in-law’s hands and held them. “Yes, Millie. I have more than enough money. Gunner left me quite well off.” Lily felt a small sadness that women like Lady Millicent never expected to manage funds of their own.
“Did you ever imagine he was that wealthy?” Liam asked.
“Oh, yes. I knew he was. He had holdings all over London. There’s even a town house on the fringe of Mayfair.”
“What?” Liam asked.
“Didn’t you know?”
“No. I haven’t paid much attention to what he owns since I don’t intend to take anything from him.”
“Not even the money he left you?”
“I’ll be giving you any property he willed to me, sister. Any money he left me will either go into the business Blake and I own, or will be put into an account for the children Millie and I have.”
Lily smiled. “Well, Gunner left me the Mayfair town house. I would like for you to come with me to see it. It may require more work than I expect and I’d like your opinion on what needs to be done.”
“Do you intend to live in the house?”
Lily smiled. “I can’t very well live with you for the rest of my life.”
“I don’t see why not. We have plenty of room for you.”
“Not if you keep filling your home with children, Millie dear. Besides, I can only intrude for so long.”
“You aren’t intruding, Lily. It’s wonderful having you with us.”
“That’s kind of you, Millie, but I need a home of my own. And you and Liam need a house that doesn’t come with a spinster aunt interrupting your privacy.”
Their conversation stopped when the carriage slowed near Jack’s shop.
“Oh, my,” Millie said. “Look at all the carriages.”
“Jack expected a large turnout,” Liam mused. “But I wonder if he anticipated a crowd like this?”
Lily’s stomach churned with excitement.
Their carriage pulled to a halt as close to the door of Broadmoore’s Treasures as their driver could manage, and Liam stepped to the ground. He assisted his wife first, then held out his hand for Lily. The colorful crowd surging to the entrance engulfed them, and in a flash Lily found herself separated from her brother and his wife.
Lily was glad she knew where to go. If she hadn’t been here before, she would have felt quite lost. But she stayed on the path that took her to the large room off to the side where all the auction items were on display.
Before she entered, she stopped at a table and purchased her number—one hundred and thirty-six. Could the room possibly hold that many? To say nothing of the people crowding behind her.
Lily clutched her number as she accepted a glass of champagne offered by a footman, then made her way to one of the few remaining empty chairs. She knew what she was going to bid on and decided it was best to let the crowd establish bids on the items before she placed her own.
The moment she took her seat, she lifted her gaze to take in the crowd. As if by design, it was the splendid figure of Jackson Broadmoore that captured her eyes. Her stomach churned and her heart danced. If he wasn’t the most glorious fellow she’d ever seen. His formal trousers and jacket were a deep black and his waistcoat a rich gray satin—typical evening wear on a most untypical man. His crisp white shirt and pearly cravat shone in the candlelight and her fingers ached to crush the enticing auburn waves that lay against his collar. In that moment, supreme masculinity took on an entirely new meaning for Lily.
He stood talking with several men, obviously men of high ranking in Society. But the confident set of Jackson Broadmoore’s shoulders and his chiseled features gave him a captivating presence and an air of command. He was clearly in control of the evening.
The longer Lily watched him, the less she was in control of her emotions. Being near him shattered every nerve in her body and caused her breath to catch in her throat. His effect on her sent pleasing ripples across her heart, convincing her that being any closer to him would be exquisite torture.
It wasn’t fair for him to have such a compelling effect on her when he was the last man on earth she should allow to leave his mark on her. In only a few short meetings, she felt a connection to him that was so powerful that Lily had no idea how to interpret it. Nor could she combat it.
She was going to embarrass herself if she did not shift her gaze away from him, but he was too mesmerizing. She allowed herself a lingering moment, and then suddenly it was too late. He turned his head and their gazes locked. With a sharp nod, he bade his companions farewell and made his way toward her.
She stood, clutching the number as she commanded herself to become lost in the crowd.
But before she could prepare herself for his presence, he stood before her and she was lost to him.
BEHOLD THE THIEF by Laura Landon
Chapter Six
“Miss McGregor,” he said, standing so close to her she was forced to tip her head back to look into his eyes. “I’m so pleased to see you.” He focused his gaze to the chair she’d just vacated. “Did you come alone?”
Lily smiled. “No. I came with Liam and Millie, but we were separated in the crush at the door. Since I knew where to go, I came on ahead of them.”
“I mention
ed that I might need your assistance the last time I saw you. Are you still willing?”
Lily felt a blush all the way to her toes as her devilish brain interpreted his question in oh so many unladylike ways.
“Of course. What would you like me to do?”
“Please, follow me.”
Lily turned and Jack Broadmoore placed his hand beneath her elbow. Currents of startling awareness raced through her body and every part of her felt his presence. Jack escorted her to the opposite side of the room, then to the table where her Qing vases were displayed.
“You have drawn an enormous crowd.”
“More than I ever imagined. That’s why I need your help.”
“What would you like me to do, Mr. Broadmoore?”
“You may begin by calling me Jack.”
“Then you must call me Lily.”
“Very well. Lily it is.”
Hearing him say her name caused a warm cover to wrap around her heart. Watching the smile that deepened the creases on either side of his mouth caused the blood rushing through her veins to heat.
“I’m going to welcome everyone, then explain the rules of the auction. When I finish, the bidders will move about the bidding area and the guests and general observers will take a seat in the gallery. I’ve written down a starting bid at the top of each card and have put a five-pound minimum on subsequent bids.”
“Do you have a time limit on the silent bidding?”
“Yes. Thirty minutes. At the end of thirty minutes, I will stop the bidding and read the number of each winner. The person holding the winning number can then come forward and collect their item. All items must be paid for in cash before the winner is allowed to leave with his item.”
The room had been so expertly arranged that it wasn’t at all difficult to follow with her eyes the procedure Jack was describing.
“What would you like me to do, then?”
“During the bidding process, I would like you to patrol this corner of the room—from the Qing vases to the Danish glass. See there?”
