But his relationship with Livy was different from those others. He knew in his bones that Livy’s loyalty to him was steadfast. While she had lied to him, she had done so for entirely different reasons than Arabella had. His wife had twisted the truth to manipulate him.
Livy had done so because she’d wanted to be herself and to be with him.
And he wanted that too. More than anything.
“I have been a fool,” he said, stunned.
“Love makes fools of us all. I would not be too hard on yourself, my friend. While Lady Olivia’s youth and inexperience may have led her to make some wrong choices, your experience and history also blinded you to certain truths.”
“Livy is nothing like Arabella. She is loving and loyal…” He trailed off as a sudden premonition slammed into him. He surged to his feet. “Holy hell, I have to find her.”
“Why the urgency?” Chen asked, frowning.
Panic propelled him toward the door. “Knowing Livy, she may have walked away from me, but she won’t stop trying to find my attacker!”
Accompanied by Chen, Ben arrived at Lady Fayne’s less than an hour later. He rang the bell, and an eternity seemed to pass before the door opened, revealing the butler.
The mountain of a man glared at Ben, his unpatched eye glinting with hostility. “What do you want?”
“I’m here to see Lady Olivia,” Ben said.
“She is not at home.”
Fear clawed at Ben. “Where is she?”
“She nearly drowned saving your useless ’ide. Bravest and stupidest thing I ever saw,” the butler growled, his fists planted on his hips. “And ’ow do you thank the lass? You made ’er cry. This is me being polite, Your Grace, when I say sod off.”
Ben’s chest clenched, as did his fists. “I’ll see for myself if she’s here. Stand aside.”
“No bleeding way—”
“Hawker, let him in.”
At the sound of Livy’s voice, relief crashed over Ben. The butler grudgingly moved aside, and Ben strode into the antechamber...stopping at the sight of Livy. Standing a few feet away, she wore a simple blue frock, her hair in its usual braided loops. Her eyes were a bit puffy, her arms crossed beneath her bosom, and she was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.
“You are all right,” he said hoarsely.
Her expression was guarded. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I feared that you might…” He scrambled to find the right words. “Do something impetuous.”
She tilted her head. “Like what?”
“I thought you might go after the villain…put yourself in danger.”
“As if I would do something stupid like run pell-mell into danger.” She sounded exasperated and so much like his little queen that he wanted to fall at her feet and beg her forgiveness. “I am a trained professional, not some ninny. When I go after the bastard, I will do it properly. With a plan and a team behind me.”
God, he adored her.
He took a step closer. “Before you prove how alarmingly resourceful you are, may I ask a favor?”
She shook her head. “I am not giving up this case—”
“That’s not what I want.” He took another step, drawing in a breath. “What I want is to tell you how sorry I am. To beg your forgiveness…and ask for another chance.”
37
Livy wondered if she was dreaming.
After crying all the way home in the carriage, she’d fallen into an exhausted sleep. When she’d awakened mid-afternoon, she’d felt hollowed out, as if a piece of herself had gone missing. Glory and Fiona had arrived, trying to cheer her up. Their presence and the work they had to do managed to distract her a bit. They’d just started laying out the plan for catching Ben’s would-be killer…and now Ben was here.
Hope warred with fear. As much as Livy loved Ben, he’d dealt her a blow. His rejection had shattered her naïve optimism; she saw now that there wasn’t an easy solution to their problems. What if love wasn’t enough to bridge their differences?
“You asked for three favors, not one,” she said tentatively.
“I am asking for a lot, I know.” The fierce longing in Ben’s eyes made her breath catch. “I vow I will make it worth your while if you let me.”
He was within reach now, and yet the distance between them seemed so vast.
“How?” She laced her fingers together, afraid that she might reach for him otherwise. “I realize now that I pretended to be someone I am not. And while that was unfair to you, it was to me as well. It was wrong of me to lie, and I won’t do it again. But I don’t see how we can be together when I am not the woman you want.”
“You are what I want,” he declared. “You and only you, Livy. When you told me about your society, I reacted badly. It’s no excuse but being drugged and finding out about Arabella’s infidelity…I wasn’t in the right frame of mind. I took it out on you, and for that I am sorrier than I can say.”
His explanation made sense. Livy didn’t know why she hadn’t considered his state of mind at the time. Probably because she’d been so wrapped up in her own hurt.
“You had every right to be angry.” Her throat cinched. “I lied to you…like Arabella did.”
“You are nothing like her. The situations are different. Night and day,” he insisted. “Arabella had affairs after we had agreed to recommit ourselves to our marriage. And she told me the babe she was carrying was mine when it wasn’t. You, on the other hand, just wanted to be who you are. Hell, you tried to show me in so many ways, but I refused to see it. I insisted on smothering you with my asinine expectations because…because I was afraid, you see.”
“Afraid of what?” she whispered.
“Of losing you. It sounds stupid, I know.” He rubbed the back of his neck, his brows drawn. “I realize now that everyone I’ve cared about has…left. Sometimes because I’ve deserved it, other times because of circumstances beyond my control. But you, Livy, you’ve been my constant for the last seven years. You were always there for me, and I loved you even before I fell in love with you. The idea of not having you in my life…”
His throat bobbed above his cravat. “I could take anything but that. And I reacted by holding onto you too tightly. In trying to protect you, I ended up pushing you away. I lost the one person who I love more than anything.”
Hearing the anguish in his voice, she couldn’t stand it any longer. She closed the last bit of distance between them, and he closed his arms fiercely around her. His heart thundered against her cheek, and being held by him, inhaling his familiar scent, she felt the world right itself again.
“You haven’t lost me,” she said. “I am right here.”
“Promise me you always will be.” He drew back, cupping her face with a reverence that made her eyes sting. “Although I cannot promise to be less protective, I will listen to you and support your desires. When we disagree, I will do my best to compromise.”
Hesitantly, she asked, “What about my investigative work?”
“I will learn to live with it.” His words were a solemn vow. “As long as you’re mine, I can deal with anything.”
“I’m yours,” she said instantly. “Oh, Ben, I’ve missed you so much!”
His eyes flared with passion…and a hint of laughter. “Although I can’t deny that I missed you like the devil, sweeting, the truth is we were only apart for a few hours.”
“It felt like ages, didn’t it? Let us never fight again,” she said with feeling.
“The thing about fighting,” he murmured, tipping up her chin, “is that there’s the making up that follows…”
Then he was kissing her with a hungry passion that made her heart sing. She kissed him back just as eagerly, losing herself in the spell of their love.
“Ahem.”
The sound of Charlie’s voice jolted Livy. Blushing, she tried to disentangle herself from Ben, but he kept her firmly tucked against his side. Together, they faced Charlie. Mr. Chen was standing there too, his auster
ity compromised by the smile he was obviously trying to hide.
“Lady Fayne. Chen.” Ben spoke with ducal poise. “You may be the first to offer your felicitations. Lady Olivia and I are to be married.”
Charlie looked at Livy. “My dear, you are certain that this is what you want?”
“Yes,” Livy said happily. “Hadleigh says he will support my work as an Angel!”
Charlie arched her brows at Ben.
“Whatever my future duchess wishes,” he said simply. “If it is within my power to make her happy, then consider it done.”
Hooray! Livy’s eyes rounded as she considered the possibilities.
Catching her look, Ben shook his head ruefully…then winked.
Sighing, Charlie said, “Then you might as well begin as you mean to go on. Come to the drawing room; we still have a villain to catch.”
The group gathered around a coffee table. Ben and Livy shared a settee, the Willflowers to Livy’s right, Charlie across, and Chen to Ben’s left. As refreshments were passed around, Ben gave an accounting of what he could remember of the night before. Unfortunately, his memories were hazy.
“I wish I knew which of the bastards drugged me,” he said in frustration. “But the drug distorted my senses, and he was wearing a mask. I recall him dangling Arabella’s vinaigrette in front of me, telling me that she had died from taking the contents within. He implied that he was exacting revenge on me for her death…and that of his babe, which she was apparently carrying.”
Livy laced her fingers with his. He squeezed her hand, delicate yet strong. While he would always bear regret for his past mistakes, he realized that those memories could no longer hurt him. Because he had Livy by his side, sharing her light with him, the brightness of their love chasing all shadows away.
“Those facts align with the letter we found in the villain’s hideaway in Limehouse.” With obvious care, Livy asked, “Of the Horsemen, have you any idea whom the duchess might have, um, had a preference for?”
Ben shook his head. “She was friendly with all of them. Her lover could have been Edgecombe, Thorne, or Bollinger.”
“At least that rules out Stamford,” Livy said.
There was a discreet knock; it was the butler.
“Yes, Hawker?” Lady Fayne said.
“I’ve received word from Mrs. Peabody,” Hawker said. “She was monitoring the three suspects at a club, but they caught wind of her. Gave her the slip.”
Lady Fayne frowned. “That is unfortunate. Those scoundrels are undoubtedly up to no good.”
A sudden memory surfaced in Ben’s brain.
“Bollinger said he had a shipment to pick up tonight,” he said tersely. “That he meant to take me with him to do the job.”
“Did he say where?” Livy asked.
“Edgecombe implied that there was a regular route, and I was supposedly going to take over Longmere’s delivery. Devil take it.” Ben drove his fist into his palm. “If only I had had the presence of mind to question the bastards further. We might have been able to intercept a delivery this very eve—and perhaps catch the blackguard behind all of this.”
“Let’s not give up hope,” Livy said. “As Mama likes to say, there is more than one way to cook an egg. We are dealing with a puzzle, and my intuition tells me we have most of the pieces.”
Her face was set in determined lines that, in spite of the situation, Ben found adorable. She had always been clever, and he saw now how well her abilities suited investigative work. His bride-to-be had always marched to the beat of her own drum…and he was proud of her independent spirit. Proud of her.
“We have yet to thoroughly examine the clues we found in the villain’s hideout,” she went on. “If we put our heads together, perhaps we will come up with answers.”
“How did you manage to find the hideout?” Ben wanted to know.
“Longmere’s painting,” Fiona answered, waving to a small landscape on an easel behind her. “One of his models had it in her possession. Our hypothesis is that Longmere somehow tracked the villain, or the villain’s henchmen, to the lair. He wanted out of the enterprise but lacked the courage to take the final step. Then one night, he did confront the so-called Fong…and paid for it with his life.”
Ben crossed over to look at the painting, Chen doing the same.
Livy followed behind them, pointing out the building at the painting’s center. “While we found some clues there—including the Duchess of Hadleigh’s letter and an odd poem—we did not find the supply of Devil’s Bliss.”
Ben stared at the painting. Cherise’s voice floated from the recesses of his mind.
He said that the Devil had floated in on a Siren’s song, luring him to an inescapable death, but I could still break free…
The answer struck Ben.
“Could the drug be kept on a boat? According to Lady Foxton, Longmere said that the Devil had floated in on a Siren’s song…” Ben tapped his finger against the boat next to the building, which had a figurehead of a mermaid. “And that, I believe, is a Siren.”
“That would explain why we didn’t find evidence of the drug in the house.” Livy’s eyes lit with excitement. “When we were there last night, the dock was empty.”
“The question, then, is how do we find the boat?” Lady Fayne mused. “That sort of figurehead is exceedingly common.”
“We could keep following the Horsemen,” Glory suggested. “The villain will eventually slip up.”
“We could also confront Stamford,” Fiona said. “He is the weakest link in the chain. If we were to tell him that Longmere was killed—and Hadleigh nearly so—by a member of his own group masquerading as Fong, he might tell us everything he knows. Two men out of five targeted for murder: even Stamford will recognize that those are not good odds.”
“Do you think Stamford knows who the real villain is?” Chen queried.
“Probably not,” Lady Fayne said thoughtfully. “The scoundrel has hidden his tracks well. If Stamford tells us his delivery point, however, we could stage an ambush.”
From Chen’s expression, Ben could tell his friend was impressed with the Society of Angels. As was he. These ladies were uncommonly shrewd.
Suddenly, Ben remembered something else from last night.
“This might be unimportant,” he said slowly. “But Thorne did mention that the Horsemen had solved some kind of riddle to figure out where to pick up the Devil’s Bliss.”
“Five men.” Livy blinked. “Five delivery points. And five lines.”
She rushed back to the coffee table, snatching up a piece of paper. Standing behind her, Ben read over her shoulder. It appeared to be a nonsensical verse:
A favorite of pirating swaps,
And mannered grocers,
I am the cause of a nightdress furor.
To find me, head on yonder towards snails
And swim with the fish beating gills.
“Where did you get this?” Ben asked.
“The villain’s desk. Hold it, will you?” Livy shoved the paper at him. “I’ll be right back!”
Watching her dash from the room, Ben felt his lips quirk. Some things never changed. Inside his beloved’s alluringly adult body still beat the heart of his bold little queen…and he hoped that she never lost that exuberance of spirit. Hoped that she would pass it onto any children they might be blessed to have together.
The notion of siring offspring had once filled him with ambivalence. He hadn’t known if he had anything worth passing on…had begun to think it would be better for the title to be passed down his sister’s line. The idea of having babes with Livy, however, led to heady elation. Their children would be as bright and beautiful as their mama, and what fun he and Livy would have raising—and making—them.
Livy was back in moments, breathless and clutching a small velvet bag. She plopped into one of the chairs and emptied the satchel onto the coffee table; her anagram tiles spilled out. She lined up the letters, spelling out MANNERED GROCERS.
CREMORNE GARDENS.
“That one I saw straight away since I knew Cremorne Gardens was one of the delivery points.” She was already working on the next words, PIRATING SWAPS. “I believe each line contains a location.”
She triumphantly revealed the next site: WAPPING OLD STAIRS.
Torn between amusement at her smug expression and pride at her intellect, Ben chucked her under the chin. “Should I offer to help…or will I be in the way?”
Her grin was impish. “Your moral support is appreciated.”
Within minutes, she had unscrambled the anagrams into five locations: Wapping Old Stairs, Cremorne Gardens, Hungerford Stairs, Old Swan Stairs, and Billingsgate.
“The delivery tonight is likely to be at one of these places. But which one?” Livy mused.
“We could split up, monitor all of them.” Lady Fayne looked at Chen. “If Mr. Chen could offer assistance, we may have enough numbers.”
Chen inclined his head. “It would be my pleasure, my lady. My team and I could take two of the locations.”
“Why don’t you monitor Wapping Old Stairs and Cremorne Gardens?” Lady Fayne said. “The Angels and Hadleigh can take Hungerford, Hawker and Mrs. Peabody the Old Swan, and I will call in some of my associates to help me patrol Billingsgate. How does that sound to everyone?”
Ben leaned over to whisper in Livy’s ear. “Be honest, love. How do your fighting abilities compare to your riddle-solving skills?”
She gave him a demure look. “They’re better.”
He’d figured.
Grinning, he said to the group, “I say that sounds like a plan.”
38
Dusk was falling as Livy and her group arrived at the Hungerford Stairs. The steps led from a wharf on the Thames up to a large market that spanned three sections all the way to the Strand. The market was constructed in an elegant Italianate design; from the colonnaded galleries, one could purchase all manner of foodstuffs, from fish to produce to freshly butchered meats.
Olivia and the Masked Duke Page 29
