One Sinful Night

by Kaitlin O’Riley

  “He did?” Vivienne questioned incredulously. If her father had been making large sums of money on his voyages, he certainly never shared much of it with her or Aggie. Between his intermittent visits to Galway, he always sent money to them whenever he could. Never knowing how much they would be getting or when the next allotment would arrive, she and Aggie spent the money sparingly, saving as much as they were able. Aggie suspected that her father was involved in gambling and the amounts he sent decreased sharply in the last years since he was employed with Harlow Shipping, leaving Vivienne worried for her future. After her father’s ship disappeared, she and Aggie survived solely on what little earnings Vivienne brought in from her sewing.

  “Are you saying you did not know of this?” Jackson asked in disbelief.

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. I barely had enough money to keep food on the table. If my father was making large profits, he did not share them with me.”

  “That’s most odd,” he mumbled, his eyes still on the papers in front of them. “But it fits with my theory.”

  “What theory?” Vivienne’s pulse quickened.

  “This is difficult for me to admit to you, Vivienne. And I am only telling you this because of my feeling of responsibility for you, for it could cause quite a bit of trouble for me. And for my family.”

  Intrigued by his words she whispered, “You must tell me.”

  He paused for a moment. “I think there might have been some wrongdoing against your father on the part of my brothers, Davis and Miles.”

  Vivienne blinked, unsure how to respond while her sharp mind raced with possibilities. What was he talking about? What had his brothers done to her father? Had they stolen from him? Had they hurt him somehow? Even murd—No, she could not even say that word. “What do you mean, Mister Harlow?”

  “Jackson,” he corrected her smoothly.

  “Jackson.”

  “I’m not completely sure just yet. But, brothers or no, I intend to find out. And to do that I need you to tell me everything about the time you last saw your father, from before he sailed until the last letter you received. Did he make any reference to Harlow Shipping or to either of my brothers? Did he mention any investments he made, any provisions for your future? No detail may be too small or insignificant. You must tell me everything.”

  Speechless, she stared at Jackson.

  “I don’t think it’s a secret how I feel about you, Vivienne,” Jackson uttered softly. “I only wish to help you in any way I can. I feel doubly responsible for your father’s disappearance for I fear it may have been caused by my brothers’ selfishness. You can trust me.”

  “I trust you, Mister—” she corrected herself, “Jackson.”

  “I’m happy to hear that, because I need your help in order for me to solve this mystery. We need each other. And for your own safety, we must not mention who you are to my brother Miles. He would know immediately that we suspect him. Fortunately he is out of town this week, but he will be back shortly.”

  “I see your point,” Vivienne agreed. If his brother and foul play were somehow involved in her father’s disappearance, then the logic in staying out of sight of Miles Harlow made sense. “But I don’t understand any of this. Why would either of your brothers want to hurt a man who was in their employ for years? What could my father have done to incur their wrath?”

  “This is very difficult for me to admit, Vivienne, but my brothers are greedy men. I have a feeling your father had something that they wanted. Quite desperately. He was merely in their way.”

  “What was it?” asked Vivienne, her hands clenched tightly in her lap.

  “Diamond mines in Africa.”

  “Diamond mines? What would my father be doing with diamond mines?” Vivienne was in shock. Nothing made sense. How could he possibly be dead over something like that?

  “Well, it seems he may have acquired some very profitable diamond mines in South Africa.”

  “My father?” she cried in disbelief. “Why, he knows nothing of diamond mines!”

  “You don’t need to know about them to become rich,” Jackson explained. “You just need to own one. And Captain Montgomery apparently won deeds to some land in South Africa with my brother Davis. At first they believed the land to be worthless, and Davis sold his all shares to your father. However, it turns out that very same land holds some rich mines. They are worth a fortune and belonged completely to your father. Of course, my brother Davis bitterly regrets selling them to him.”

  Vivienne could not comprehend why her father would not have simply told her he owned lucrative diamond mines. “I don’t believe any of this. Surely, my father would have written to me about something so important.”

  “That is why you must show me all of your father’s letters to you,” Jackson insisted. “There may be information in them that you may not comprehend, but will cast light on what happened. Can you bring them to me, Vivienne?”

  “Of course,” she responded woodenly, too stunned to refuse him. “He sent me a wood and ivory box from Africa just before he disappeared. With it was the last letter he wrote to me. He said that the box was very valuable and that he would explain everything when he saw me again.”

  Jackson’s eyes lit up in excitement. “You must show this box to me, but you must not tell anyone about what I have told you. It could place you in danger.”

  She nodded her head in agreement, falling silent. Overwhelmed by this information, she tried to make sense of it all. If her father had simply written to her about the diamond mines, she would not be in this perplexing situation. Oh Papa, why didn’t you just tell me the truth?

  After a few moments, Jackson stood and walked around his desk, moving to stand before Vivienne. He looked at her intently, his golden brown eyes searching hers. “In spite of what happened with you and Lord Whitlock, I still want you, Vivienne.”

  Startled by his abrupt change of topic, her cheeks flamed at the memory of the night at Bingham Hall when she was found with Aidan. It was a humiliation she wanted to obliterate from her memory permanently. “Please don’t speak of that night.”

  “I ask that you allow me to speak my piece first. I can’t help feeling this is all my fault. If I had only answered your summons sooner, perhaps I could have prevented Lord Whitlock from being in your bedchamber.”

  “My summons?” His words confused her again. She recalled he said something similar to her that last day at Bingham Hall.

  “The urgent note you sent to me asking me to come to your room to help you.”

  Vivienne felt her heart overturn and she suddenly knew something deliberate had been planned that night. Something that had nothing to do with her, for she never invited anyone, least of all Jackson Harlow, to her room. Who would have written a note to Jackson asking him to come to her room in the middle of the night? What if her aunt and uncle had returned while Jackson was visiting her room? Who wanted to see her disgraced? And Jackson Harlow blamed for it? “What note—”

  Jackson interrupted her, “Lord Whitlock was making inappropriate advances toward you before and you wanted me to stop him. You were afraid of him, weren’t you?”

  Oh, she was afraid of Aidan all right, but not in the way Jackson thought. Aidan would never physically hurt her or force her to do anything against her will. Of that she had no fear. Yet Jackson’s concerned manner pulled at her heartstrings. He desperately wanted to help her, but she did not know how to respond to this information.

  “I hope you consider me more than just a friend and I hope I’m not mistaken in believing that you may have feelings for me. I know of no other way to say this delicately, so I will be direct.”

  Vivienne waited expectantly, wondering what he would say to astonish her next, for it seemed this afternoon was to be full of nothing but surprising news.

  “I am aware that your uncle is forcing Whitlock to marry you and that you are not happy about the situation. You do not have to marry him. I would like to suggest another alternative.�
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  Vivienne’s heart thumped loudly in her chest as Jackson elegantly knelt on one knee before her. He took her gloved hand in his with a tenderness that surprised her, yet she could not help the little shiver that raced down her spine.

  “I would like to offer you my hand in marriage.”

  The ticking of the clock on the shelf echoed deafeningly through the silent office.

  “You want to marry me? Even after—” Vivienne could not help the incredulous tone from creeping into her voice. He still held her hand with a firm clasp.

  “Yes. In due time and through the proper channels, I was hoping I would be able to ask you to be my wife, but it seems I was unexpectedly preempted by Lord Whitlock. I know you are a respectable and principled lady and that Whitlock took terrible advantage of you that night. He alone put you in this unbearable and shameful position where you were compromised. Now your family is forcing him to marry you.” Jackson paused, his eyes holding her gaze. “I can offer you another option. You could marry me instead of Whitlock.”

  Vivienne could not believe it. This man—this man she had known for only a week—had more faith in her character and morals, than Aidan ever did. Jackson wanted to marry her. Whereas Aidan, who had been her friend since she was nine years old, had no faith in her at all. “Why would you want to marry me?” she asked incredulously.

  “Because I think you are the most exquisite woman I have ever had the pleasure to know. I respect you and I appreciate your intelligence. I enjoy your company and think we get along well. I would be proud to have you as my wife.”

  Again an awkward silence ensued.

  “You don’t have to answer me right away,” he continued soothingly, patting her hand. “Please take some time to consider my offer.”

  Vivienne could not help but say, “I only have until Saturday. Aidan and I are to be married on Saturday.”

  “Well, then, you’ll have to answer me before then.” A smile played faintly at the corners of his sensuous mouth.

  “Thank you. I am honored by your very kind offer, Jackson, but really—”

  “I’m not being kind. I’m being completely selfish.” He squeezed her hand tightly. “I know it has only been a short amount of time that we have been acquainted with each other, but I believe I’ve fallen in love with you.”

  Fallen in love? She blinked at the handsome blond man who held her and asked her to marry him. Did she want to marry Jackson Harlow? Would that save her from the hopeless fate of an artificial marriage to a man who did not love or trust her? Attractive, charming, and prosperous, Jackson had much to recommend him as a husband. He offered her a respectable escape from her impossible situation with Aidan. Dare she take it?

  At that moment raised voices, followed by angered shouts, could be heard outside and suddenly the door to Jackson’s office burst wide open. An unkempt and obviously upset man stalked toward Jackson, while Francis, the assistant, yelled frantic apologies. “I’m sorry, sir! I tried to stop him!”

  Startled, Vivienne watched in confusion as Francis scurried back out of the room and Jackson released her hand and abruptly stood, clearly outraged by the intrusion. He turned to face the boisterous ruffian who had stormed uninvited into his office. “How dare you interrupt me?” he cried indignantly.

  “Ye ’ave to pay wot ye owe me!” the man in the tattered cap demanded, becoming more irate, if such a thing were possible. “I set tha’ fire like ye said! I kep my end o’ the bargain, but ye ain’t kep yours! I need my money!”

  “Travers, this is neither the time nor the place to discuss this—”

  The man named Travers interrupted, “If not now, when?! I did my ’alf. I set the fire a fortnigh’ ago. And ye owe me. I’ve already talked to Kavanaugh and if ye don’ pay up right now, I’ll go to tha police! I got nothin’ to lose if ye don’ pay me!”

  Jackson’s face darkened as he advanced on the man, causing Vivienne to intake her breath sharply at the sight. Confused by all that was happening, she instantly sensed the explosiveness of the situation and that Jackson was more than incensed by the man’s interruption, although he attempted to remain cool and unruffled.

  “I don’t know what you are talking about. Now get out of my office,” Jackson ordered through clenched teeth.

  “Pay me first and I’ll go!” the man persisted with mounting agitation, crossing his arms across his chest. “I ain’t leavin’ til ye pay me!”

  Jackson’s voice turned silky smooth as he told the man, “Why don’t you come back tomorrow and we’ll discuss your dilemma then.”

  Francis re-entered the room with two enormous guards following him. The beefy guards grabbed the irate man by his arms and proceeded to drag him kicking and screaming from the office.

  “Yer a cheat, Harlow! Ye know ye owe me! Damn ye! Ye’ll be sorry you didn’ pay me. Ye’ll be sorry!” His filthy curses and screams of dire retribution continued as he disappeared from view.

  Jackson turned to face her with a regretful air and patted her arm soothingly. “I cannot apologize enough that you had to witness such a vulgar display, Vivienne. The man is quite delusional. Apparently he is under the erroneous impression that I owe him money. Can you imagine such a tale? Please eradicate the entire scene from your mind.”

  Jackson’s actions upset her. As well as the strange man’s ominous words. A fire. The name Kavanaugh. Payment. Something underhanded had happened, of that she was certain. How much of the man’s incoherent ramblings was true was anyone’s guess. She wished she could erase it all from her head as Jackson suggested, but an odd memory niggled at the back of her brain. Something she ought to remember, but couldn’t.

  “I’ve erased it already.” Vivienne forced a quick smile at him. “I should be going home now.” She rose abruptly from her seat and grabbed her reticule. “My aunt will be wondering where I’ve been all afternoon.”

  Jackson stepped toward her, placing his hand upon her upper arm, his brown eyes glittering. “Vivienne, please consider my offer of marriage. I meant all that I said. I would be a good husband and I would take excellent care of you, of that you should have no doubt.”

  Avoiding the fervent look in his eyes, she merely nodded her head.

  He flashed her a heart melting grin that set off his golden handsomeness to perfection. “Send me a message tomorrow. In the meantime, look through your father’s letters.”

  Before she knew what he was about, Jackson leaned close to her. For a split second she thought he meant to place a light kiss on her cheek, but he moved slightly, cupping his hand behind her head, forcing her face next to his, and his lips covered hers possessively. Astonished at his boldness, she held her breath as he pressed his mouth against hers in a hungry kiss. He felt warm and soft and he smelled nice enough, yet for some reason she shuddered. He released her just as abruptly as he had kissed her, leaving her off balance.

  “And let me know your answer as soon as you can,” he said urgently. “I’ll be waiting.”

  Surprised, she took a step back, blinking at him. “I really must be going,” she murmured as she hurried from the elegant office, knowing she appeared ridiculous.

  She fled down the stairs, flustered by all that had happened during her visit. The incredible information about her father and the diamond mines. The unsavory characters of the Harlow brothers. The strange encounter between that angry man and Jackson. Jackson’s declaration of love for her and his proposal of marriage. His mention of a note she supposedly sent to him. And then his kiss! She had not had enough time to absorb it all or make sense of any of it. She just knew she had been in his office too long and that Lizzie must be frantic with worry by now. She didn’t dare risk upsetting Aunt Gwen and Uncle Gilbert again, after everything she had already put them through.

  Hurriedly, Vivienne exited the front door. As she felt the fresh air touch her face, she stopped short and her heart sank to the tips of her stylish leather walking boots. Lizzie had vanished and Gregory Cardwell stood in her place at the bottom
of the front steps, a stern look on his freckled face and his arms crossed over his chest. Obviously her cousin was quite displeased with her.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, flustered at the change of events and still breathless from her mad dash from Jackson’s office on the second floor.

  “That’s the question I need to ask you,” he said stonily, eyeing her quizzically as she stood above him on the top of the steps.

  Vivienne attempted to act nonchalant, casually adjusting her rose-colored gloves. “Where is Lizzie?”

  “I sent her home. The poor, innocent thing. How could you make her an accomplice in your misadventures?” he scolded.

  “I assure you that I’m not having any misadventures, Greg. Just taking care of some family business.” She continued down the steps toward the sidewalk, brushing past him. “There’s no need for you to get protective of me now.”

  Gregory grabbed hold of her arm, stopping her. “Maybe you could use a little protection, Vivvy. We need to talk, you and I. It’s high time you cleared some things up for me. You have to tell me everything that happened between you and Aidan from the beginning. And what you were doing in Jackson Harlow’s office just now.”

  Chapter 18

  The Kiss

  “Thank you for joining us,” Lord Gilbert Cardwell said warmly as he welcomed the guests seated around the magnificent dinner table of his London townhouse. “I thought it would be nice for our two families to spend time together in a more relaxed manner before the wedding on Saturday.”

  The families assembled consisted of the Earl of Whitlock, his mother, and the entire Cardwell clan. Aidan glanced around the table and could not help but notice that his mother, who sat rigidly to the right of Lord Cardwell, appeared as ill at ease as she certainly felt. She was barely feigning politeness and the strain of doing that much was apparent in the pinched frown marring her face.