When it was gone, so was the thief. For that was who it must have been: a cutpurse waiting outside the gambling hell to take advantage of drunken winners. The poor fellow had chosen unwisely. Though Michael would not deny being in his cups, he had been losing steadily for hours.
* * *
By the time he returned to Gracechurch Street he was bruised and bloody and it was nearly nine in the morning. But at least he had forgotten what it was that worried him.
It had something to do with work, he was sure. He was in no condition to go there, so dealing with it would have to wait until he’d had a wash and a few hours’ sleep.
But when he entered the house, instead of peace and quiet, he was greeted with a foyer full of chests and trunks, and the housekeeper and footman bustling about the room, clearly in a tizzy. His mother waded into the midst of it, tapping the tops of the baggage and indicating the order that they should be carried to the wagon that was waiting at the front door. Even more strange than the activity taking place was his mother’s attire. In place of the severe black gowns he was accustomed to, she wore a fashionable day dress of brilliant blue silk, the white organza chemisette closed at the throat with a delicate brooch of opal and pearls.
‘What the devil is going on?’ Michael said, standing in the way, only to be nudged to the side by two grunting servants carrying a large box.
‘I wanted to tell you,’ his mother said, tossing her hands in the air to signify her frustration. ‘But you have been so busy lately. And I did not think you would understand.’
‘You are right,’ he said. ‘I do not understand. Where do you think you are going?’
John Solomon appeared from the sitting room, standing at her side. ‘She is going to my house, where she belongs.’
‘John’s place is much larger, you see,’ she said, blushing slightly. ‘Not that you have not offered me more than I’d ever hoped for in the way of a home. But your father is eager to share his good fortune with me, and to make up for the time we were apart.’
‘My father?’ If he’d even believed the man existed, much less lived, it still would have been strange to see his mother disappear with the man after just a few days. ‘You are moving to his residence?’
‘It is time that you had your own home without the trouble of housing me,’ she added with a concerned look, then leaned forward to surreptitiously sniff his breath. She made no comment on the ruined coat or the trickle of blood running down the back of his hand, other than to give him a disappointed shake of her head.
‘It is no trouble to keep you here,’ he said irritably. ‘It never was.’
‘Of course not,’ Solomon replied. ‘And you have cared well for your mother in my absence. But now that I am back, I am eager to take on the duty.’
‘And it will be easier, for all of us, if your father and I keep our own house and you keep yours.’ There passed a look between the two older people in the room that was unmistakably intimate. Then his mother gave him an encouraging look. ‘I am sure, sooner if not later, there will be a woman in this house that will take my place. I have been interfering in your life far too long. It is past time that you marry and start your own family.’
‘I do not want or need a wife and children,’ he said, annoyed at the slurring in his voice. Drunk or sober, he did not now, nor had he ever believed in love. Even so, he could not help imagining Liv walking down the stairs on his left, greeting him upon his homecoming.
‘It has been a very long time that we have been apart,’ Solomon said, beaming at his wife. ‘We have much to...talk about.’
His mother giggled.
His father continued. ‘We will stay a few months in my house on Grosvenor Square...’
‘Not far from Scofield and his sister,’ his mother added.
‘How delightful,’ Michael said, feeling the beginnings of a headache.
His father ignored the interruptions and continued. ‘Until we can find a place that suits us both to build a manor in the country. And then, if Maria wishes it, we shall travel.’ He stared at her fondly. ‘Now that I have found her, she shall see all the wonders I have seen, and have every happiness I can give her.’
‘I see,’ Michael said, as his temples began to throb. ‘But you have been apart for thirty years.’ He stared at John Solomon. ‘Before that, you were together for a year or less. Why do you think to set up house after all this time?’
‘Because we love each other,’ Solomon said.
‘Surely you must have known that,’ his mother said in a tone that was almost a scold. ‘I have told you often enough about our time together. And never for a moment of the time we were apart did my love for John dim one iota from what it was.’
‘Yes, but...’ Michael began and then stopped. She had said all those things, of course. And he had not believed one of them. He had assumed that his mother’s feelings were some sort of delusion created to camouflage her dishonour, and to give him hope that his absent father had not disappeared as soon as he’d realised that she was with child.
The fact that all she’d told him had been true was a situation he had never imagined.
‘There will be space for you to visit, if you wish it,’ his father said, still not taking his eyes off the woman he had been searching for, as if afraid that she might disappear if he looked away. ‘After you have given us a chance to get settled.’
By the look on his face, getting settled was a euphemism for something that Michael did not want to think about regarding his own mother. ‘That is all right. This house is quite suitable for my needs,’ he said, rubbing his temples.
‘I knew you would understand,’ his mother said, looking at him briefly before turning to the man at her side. ‘It is all very sudden, of course. But we have been apart for so long and I’ve missed John terribly. We want to make up for all those lost years in any way we can.’
‘Just go,’ he said, cutting off what was likely to be a repetition of their everlasting love. ‘I do not need to visit. I do not need either of you. Just go.’ Then he stalked into the study, to search for the brandy bottle.
* * *
That morning Liv’s brother was waiting for her at the table in the breakfast room, a slice of toast in his hand and a stern expression on his face.
She ignored it and seated herself, pouring chocolate and slathering jam on a slice of bread as if it were the only thing in the world that mattered to her.
‘Are you going to explain yourself?’ he said when the silence between them had gone on long past comfort.
‘What are you referring to?’ she said, trying to ignore the knife in his hand as he buttered his toast.
‘What were you doing in Vauxhall Gardens? Who did you intend to meet? And how did you evade Solomon yet again?’ He gestured broadly with the knife. ‘I hired the fellow to keep ahead of you, not lag one step behind. He is worse than useless if he cannot keep you in the house as I requested.’
He was also not at his usual post in the garden when she had looked for him. But it was best not to call attention to that fact when her brother was in a mood to sack someone. ‘Michael is doing his job quite well, I should think. I am still here, aren’t I?’
‘Michael, is it?’ her brother said, as if one word encompassed the whole of the problem.
‘Mr Solomon,’ she corrected too late.
‘Let us be clear on the matter. Michael Solomon is in my employ to prevent you from leaving the house, not to bring you back when you have already run away. I did not hire him to fetch and carry for you on Bond Street. Nor did I expect you to become overly familiar with him.’
‘I am not overly familiar with him,’ she said, trying not to think of what they had done, alone in the darkness. ‘But you have me trapped in this house and he is the only one of any education to whom I can speak. Do you mean to deny me all intellectual stimulation?’
�
�It is not your intellect I am worrying about,’ he said with a sarcastic smile.
‘I don’t understand what you mean,’ she said, giving him her best blank look.
‘Then let me put it to you clearly. After two years of droning on about the fellow, you have not mentioned Alister Clement in days. And yet you are calling your guard by his Christian name. You are forming an attachment to him, and I will not have it.’
‘Really, Hugh,’ she said, forcing a laugh. ‘I knew you were jealous of my fondness for Alister. But now you are fixing your mind on any man I speak to and imagining nonsense.’
His hand tightened on the knife he held until his knuckles went white. ‘You are trying to twist my concern against me, but you have only proved my point. You have never before spoken to the men I hired to guard you. Not until Solomon arrived. You should not have been near him at all. I do not want you seeking opportunities to turn him to your will and convince him that his job is to obey you and not the man who hired him.’
She blinked. ‘Then why are you barking at me and not him? If what he has done is so horrible...’ She paused, shutting her mouth before finishing the sentence. She had almost suggested that Michael Solomon be fired. After what had happened, she could not bear the thought that she might lose him. She moderated her tone. ‘Well, I promise that I have not been doing anything like what you seem to be imagining,’ she said at last, trying to turn the conversation. ‘And while we are discussing last night, who was the woman you were with?’
‘What woman?’ he said, too quickly to be sincere.
‘The one who was masked, and who ran away once she realised who you were talking to,’ Liv said, enjoying her brother’s obvious embarrassment.
‘That is none of your business,’ Hugh said when he could not seem to come up with either a truth or a convincing lie.
‘Were you going to spend the night with her?’ Liv asked, honestly interested. Before Peg had disappeared, she had been convinced that her brother had lost his heart to someone. ‘Was she your mistress?’
‘You should not even know of such things, much less ask about them,’ Hugh replied.
‘She could not have been a mistress,’ Liv said thoughtfully. ‘A Cyprian would not have bothered with a disguise.’ That meant that she was someone’s wife, or a lady who did not want to be seen unchaperoned with Liv’s notorious brother.
‘Stop speculating,’ he said, getting up from the table and throwing his napkin down. ‘The woman does not concern you. Nor will either of us be seeing her again.’ There was something in his face as he said it that had nothing to do with his previous anger at her. Whoever it was, he had lost her when she had run from him. Before Liv had interrupted them, they had been heading for the dark walk that she had just come from. And she was not sure how, but somehow she had spoiled everything.
‘I am sorry,’ she said, watching him carefully, trying to understand. ‘I am not sure what I have done exactly, and I know that you will never tell me. But I ruined your evening by appearing when I did.’
He dropped back into his seat with a sigh. ‘Do not blame yourself for it. It was a mistake from the start.’
‘Is she the reason you have never married?’ she asked. ‘Peg was under the impression that you had found and lost your true love.’
‘Peg was too nosy for her own good,’ he said.
She gasped. ‘You did not do anything to her, did you? Please say you did not punish her for leaving.’
He stared at her in shock. ‘Do you really think so little of me?’ He shook his head. ‘To the best of my knowledge, your sister is fine. And as for the woman you saw with me last night? I should have known better than to meet her. What we have... What we had is not something that can be regained. In the future, let us both pretend that yesterday evening did not happen.’
She doubted that she would forget, for even with the interruption it had been the best night of her life. But it would be easier for all of them if she could pretend that it did not matter to her. ‘Very well,’ she said, staring down into her tea and dreaming of Vauxhall.
CHAPTER TWELVE
It was after noon before Michael took his usual place under the tree in the Scofield garden. He had enquired after the Duke and was relieved to hear that the peer was already gone from the house. He had expected a dressing-down for the incident at Vauxhall, or at least a reprimand for arriving late. Apparently, he’d got a reprieve.
But the Duke was, by far, the lesser of his two problems. What was he going to do about Liv? The fact that he had kissed her was, at a minimum, a breach of duty. It was worse that he had taken advantage of a girl who was clearly an innocent, and even worse that he wanted to do it again, despite all the arguments he could make against that.
It didn’t matter what he wanted. This could not continue. He had no intention of offering her marriage, and would surely be refused if he did. Scofield would remind him that he was a lesser man than the one they both sought to protect her from. The idea that the Duke would sanction a marriage between them was ludicrous. Instead, he would be sent from the house without another word.
And he did not want marriage, he reminded himself. He was born strong enough to be alone, had been so all his life, and would remain thus, content, until he died.
Of course now he had a family on Grosvenor Square...
He shook his head. He had said only this morning that he did not need help from his father or anyone else. Nor did he believe in the sort of tender emotions that made a man doubt his purpose and turn away from actual, attainable goals. Yet here he was, plotting a future with a woman he could not have.
It was madness.
He settled down under the tree, shielding his bloodshot eyes with his hat, and reached into his pocket for a book, hoping that the lady in question would stay inside and not bother him, at least until his mind had fully recuperated from their last time together.
In less than a quarter hour, however, he felt the shadow fall across his face and caught the gentle scent of her perfume.
‘Where were you?’ she asked, not bothering with greetings or apologies.
‘This morning?’ he said without opening his eyes. ‘I took the liberty of sleeping in. It was a late night, after all, Lady Olivia.’
‘You were to call me Liv,’ she reminded him.
‘In another time and another place,’ he replied.
‘Just over twelve hours ago,’ she said. ‘You make it sound like an eternity.’
It felt like one. ‘A lot has happened since then,’ he said.
‘Not to me.’ She sat down next to him, forcing her way onto the bench and bumping against his injured arm.
He groaned.
‘What is wrong?’ Her hand came up to his shoulder, patting her way down his bicep until she touched the wound and he flinched.
‘I had a small run-in with a cutpurse on the way home last night,’ he said. ‘I would like to say he got the worst of it, but that would be a lie.’
‘You were attacked?’ she said, horrified.
‘It is a danger when one is on the street late at night.’ He removed his hat and looked at her, since it was obvious that she did not mean to leave him alone.
‘But with a knife,’ she said. ‘And after seeing my brother.’
‘I am sure there is no connection,’ he said, not sure at all.
‘When we were in Bond Street,’ she reminded him, ‘there was the horse that almost ran you down. And the next day Hugh was angry because someone had seen us there.’
‘A coincidence,’ he said, thinking of the vague feelings of being watched, and the strange woman in the street who had warned him away from Liv.
She reached out and clasped his hands. ‘I am so sorry. I did not mean for you to get hurt.’
‘You were not the one to hurt me,’ he said. ‘And we have no proof that the things that happened to m
e were related. I have had worse weeks, working for other people.’
‘But you are not working for someone else,’ she said, looking increasingly worried. ‘You are working for the Duke of Scofield, who has a history of removing obstacles with a knife.’
‘Even if he does, it does not explain the incident with the horse,’ Michael said, doing his best not to be swayed by her panic.
‘If he was riding when he saw you with me, he’d have used whatever was at hand. And if one is caught, it would be easy to claim the incident was an accident, just as you are doing now.’
There was an annoying amount of logic behind her worry. If her brother was as dangerous and impulsive as she thought, things might have gone very like that. ‘Did it look like his horse that struck me? Did you get a look at the rider?’
‘No,’ she admitted. ‘I was too busy worrying about you.’
‘And I you,’ he agreed. ‘But none of this is anything we need to obsess over. I was not badly hurt either time.’
‘But what of the next time?’ she said.
He took a deep breath. ‘There will not be a next time, Lady Olivia.’
‘Of course there will,’ she said with a shocked laugh. ‘It is not as if he will forget that he is angry with you.’
‘He will not bother me because I mean to give him no reason for anger. Since it appears that Clement has learned his lesson, my job here is almost at an end. Until I am sure that I am no longer needed, there will be no more sponge cake and sorbet, and certainly no more trips down the dark walks.’
‘Because you are afraid of my brother,’ she said. ‘I did not think you a coward.’
‘I am not afraid of him,’ he replied. ‘I am simply aware that my job is a temporary position. You must remind yourself of that as well. If you are spinning fantasies that our acquaintance will last beyond a few weeks, you do not understand the situation at all.’
By the hurt look in her eyes, that was exactly what she had been doing. He could hardly blame her for clinging to the next available rescuer when Clement had failed her. But, for the sake of her honour, neither of them could afford to exaggerate his place in her future.
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