The Missing Partner (The Adventures of Xavier & Vic Book 2)

by Liza O'Connor

With a heavy sigh, the pirate said, “I will find him.”

  “No. We have men enough searching. My concern is Victor. Once the boy discovers Xavier is missing, he will begin his own search, which could likely get him killed. I need you to stop him from doing so. Barring that, I need you to keep him safe while he searches.”

  Jacko’s fingers resumed their rippling motion. “Can you tell me anything about Xavier’s assignment?”

  “No.”

  “Any clues where to look?”

  “No! I don’t want you looking. I want you to keep Victor away from this. I realized upon searching Xavier’s room today, that he and Victor are closer than I previously knew.” Stone had noticed Vic’s stylish suits in Xavier’s closets and his wide collared shirts in the dresser. And while homosexuality was against the law, he was more than willing to turn a blind eye in this situation. The country needed Xavier far more than adherence to shifting moralities.

  When Jacko gave no reaction to his comment, Stone continued. “Xavier has pulled out of worse scrapes. I have faith he’ll survive this one, as well. However, he’ll never recover if he loses Victor during this disaster.”

  Jacko covered his face with his hands for a brief moment before meeting Stone’s eyes. “I can only promise you the following: When Vic finds out Xavier is in trouble, I will encourage him to keep you apprised of his intentions. And whatever plan Vic devises, I will try and ensure I take the riskiest role. Vic is not a young dandy willing to sit on the sidelines and let others protect him. However, he does let logic rule over his emotions. If he believes I’m the best skilled person, he will let me do the job.”

  Stone was not pleased with the fellow’s promise. “But what if you aren’t?”

  “Then Vic will do it.”

  Stone cringed at the thought. He would have a devil of a time explaining to the First Minister how he allowed Xavier’s apprentice to become involved in their investigation.

  ***

  Jacko paced the room like a caged cat as he waited for Vic and Davy to return. The Inspector was a fool if he thought he’d sit around, doing nothing to save his friend. Xavier Thorn was one of the few men who had ever looked beyond his gypsy heritage and given him a chance to prove himself. When Jacko returned from America, brokenhearted and rich, Xavier gave him good advice on both situations. More importantly, he gave him a job that kept him out of trouble, even as he returned to his gypsy ways.

  He opened the door the moment he heard the carriage drive up. He frowned upon the sight of Victor seated beside Davy on the driver’s bench and the poor fellow looking like a man headed to the gallows.

  Vic climbed down and entered the office first. “Did any clients come?”

  He decided Stone didn’t count. “No.”

  “Thank God! I need a cup of tea. Would you like one?”

  He hated the stuff. “I’d prefer strong coffee and perhaps some of Xavier’s brandy to go along.”

  “How about whiskey? He has a very fine bottle opened. Help yourself and I’ll start coffee for you and tea for me.”

  “I’ll do it,” Davy grumbled. “Jacko, maybe you can see to the horse?”

  Jacko rolled his eyes as he walked outside. Why Davy doubted Vic’s ability to boil water, he had no idea. Vic was an impressive young woman pretending to be an impressive young man. She was certainly capable of making coffee.

  After giving the horse water and feed, he brushed down its coat. Stone was right about one point. Xavier would not recover if something happened to Vic. Even if Xavier lived a hundred years, he would never get over the loss. Jacko knew this first hand. For the rest of his life a piece of his heart would belong to Lady Anne.

  Every day he endured the pain of losing her, and truthfully, she had never been his to lose. He could only imagine the joy of finding and loving, with requited emotions, the perfect woman.

  If Jacko didn’t have a keen sense of smell enabling him to differentiate between male and female, he would have never guessed Vic wasn’t the young man she played to perfection.

  Fate had brought the ideal woman into Xavier’s life—a life with no room for a wife, but ample space for a brilliant young partner. If only Fate had found Jacko such a woman before he lost his heart to Lady Anne. He closed his eyes in pain as he recalled Anne’s beautiful face. She was a grand lady and he a detestable thieving gypsy. He could not have chosen a love more destined to fail.

  Finished with the task, he returned inside and sought out Xavier’s fine bottle of whiskey. Finding it was easy. The bottle had recently been opened. All he had to do was follow his nose.

  He poured two fingers in the glass and sat down in Xavier’s chair to enjoy his drink. Vic arrived with his coffee and set it on the other side of the desk. She then glared, clearly waiting for him to move out of her seat.

  She was a bossy fellow—a fair match for Xavier. He rose and moved to the less comfortable chair.

  Vic took over Xavier’s chair, pulled out her notes from her interview, and pounded away on the typewriter. He watched her with fascination. “Do all Oxford students learn to type now?”

  “No,” she replied and continued typing.

  Jacko hadn’t thought so. Xavier said it was a bear to master, and bloody hard on the fingers. He couldn’t imagine rich, young men bothering. Much easier to hire a secretary.

  He laughed at her intense expression. She was such a fierce young man, so determined to be in control. She would have made a terrible woman—very wise of whoever decided to let her become a boy. The world was a better place with Victor as a man.

  His thoughts sobered. She’d be an angry young man if she discovered he knew Xavier was in danger and failed to tell her. “Is this friend we are stealing tonight very important to you?”

  Vic stopped typing and faced him. “Yes. I am sorry she is not young and beautiful, but she is a very fine woman and we will save her. Aunt Maddy would never forgive me if I abandoned a fellow suffragette.”

  “So this should be our top priority?”

  “Yes!” she yelled, apparently losing patience with his questions.

  He covered his smile behind the cup of coffee. God, she was so like Xavier. “Then may I suggest that you go home and rest up for tonight?”

  She paused and then nodded. “That’s a good idea. You should do the same. We’ll close up early today.”

  Jacko rose to leave.

  “Before you go…Are you familiar with the London Docks, specifically Wapping Basin?”

  “Dangerous area, what do you want to know?”

  “Can you tell me about the Beddingsome Club?”

  The question worried him. “It’s a place where the not-so-gentrified can have a taste of sweet young ladies, or boys, depending upon their preference, who appear to be the real thing.”

  “What do you mean ‘the real thing’?”

  “Well, their owners will claim the girls are young ladies snatched from the streets, but most are ladies’ maids. However, they play the part well enough that I never minded.”

  Vic frowned. “You go there?”

  “Not recently, but when I used to be in the neighborhood and needed a bit of release, I found it amusing enough.”

  Her fingers rapped angrily on the table. “You find it amusing to force young women against their will?”

  Slamming down his cup, he stood. “I assure you the ladies I purchased enjoyed their evening as much as I did.” He turned to leave, but paused at the door, remembering his obligations to Xavier.

  “Vic, if you have a case that requires going to Beddingsome, you should let me go. While the women I purchased were willing, they also sell the genuine, yet unwilling, which wander into their traps.” His eyes met hers.

  “In that part of town, the lowly born are wolves and gentry are sheep. There are men who would pay a fortune to enjoy you to your death. If you need something done in the London docks, I will do it.”

  Vic rubbed her temples. “Mr. Robinson’s butler suggested I go there.”

&
nbsp; “Does he want you dead?”

  “Yes, I think that would suit him well.” She pushed her chair back and rose. “However, I’m inclined to have him imprisoned once I figure out all he has done and find sufficient evidence for Inspector Stone.”

  Jacko chuckled at her hearty confidence. “Well, my money is on you, Victor.”

  Chapter 5

  When Vic entered her family mansion, her sister’s laughter echoed from the parlor. Odd, since Claire and her manservant Jonas usually played their love-games in the garden.

  Not wishing to interrupt them, she headed to the kitchen to let the cook know she would eat at home tonight. As she reached the kitchen door, she heard her butler, Gregory, lecturing someone. She stopped. If he was in the mood to scold, she wanted to avoid him at all costs. She was a virtual lightening rod for his lectures.

  Ever since Vic arrived in London at the age of twelve and convinced her aunt to let her become a boy, Gregory had taken up the task of making her a fine gentleman. Without his assistance, she would not have her current exciting life. She’d just be a strange woman who refused to wear skirts. Still, she could do without her butler’s constant harpings. Her illusion was perfected and her manners far superior to Xavier’s. What more could he want of her?

  When Claire’s name popped up in the fulmination, she stayed to eavesdrop. Since her sister never did anything wrong in Gregory’s eyes, she was dying to hear about Claire’s misstep.

  Gregory spoke with his authority-of-God voice. “You will weather this setback with dignity and silent sufferance. Claire is an extraordinarily intelligent young woman. Her attraction to other men of learning is natural. Just because she enjoys their intellectual company does not mean she has tossed you aside, Jonas.”

  “I would be fine if she only wished to discuss science, but she is laughing and flirting with them. Why would she do that if she were not tired of me?”

  Vic could hear the grief in Jonas’ voice and sympathized. Her sister was a terrible flirt. Vic still remembered when Claire had once set her charms on Xavier. He had responded to her sister’s flirtations, but only to make Vic jealous, which he succeeded beyond expectations. Those weeks of torment and hell only ended when Vic capitulated and admitted she loved him.

  “And were you tired of Claire when you kissed that silly maid?” Gregory demanded.

  “That was over five years ago, before Claire was even certain she loved me.”

  “Yet, you knew even then that you loved her.”

  “I did and I still do. I cannot live without her. If she rejects me, I will jump off the London Tower and end my life.”

  “Stop talking nonsense,” Gregory scolded. “Do you remember why you kissed the maid?”

  “Because I was sixteen and she was willing.”

  “Because she offered you something Claire was not yet ready to give. Now the tables are turned. These men offer Claire something you cannot.”

  “Money, social status…”

  “She doesn’t care about either of those. They offer her intellectual conversation. If you are truly concerned about losing her over this, then I suggest you expand your idle brain. If you asked, I am certain Claire would teach you everything she knows. However, if you do not do this soon, then I fear you will never have the chance to repair this breach again. If that happens, you will have to satisfy yourself with a secondary position in Claire’s life.”

  “I am in hell,” Jonas bemoaned.

  “Well, pick up a book and find your way out,” Gregory snapped and opened the kitchen door before Vic could disappear.

  Naturally, he assumed the worst. “My God, must you pick up every bad habit Mr. Thorn possesses? We were having a private conversation.”

  “I’m sorry. I was just coming in to tell the cook I’ll be home for dinner.”

  “There’s enough for an army,” Jonas said from kitchen. “Claire is entertaining her gentlemen friends.”

  Vic entered and sat beside Jonas on the kitchen bench. “I heard. I’m sorry. My sister is an incurable flirt. However, despite this annoying habit, she is loyal. She won’t leave you for a gentleman, no matter how smart he is. She knows after the wedding, her ‘master’ would order her from her basement lab, and insist she knit antimacassars.”

  Jonas smiled at the thought.

  “The men only indulge her whims presently because someone put about a rumor she has a large dowry.”

  “Have you discovered the source?”

  “No.”

  He glared at her.

  “Locating the origin of a rumor is far more difficult than you’d imagine, especially since it has spread through a group of people whom I purposely avoid. And to be blunt, I have more important cases on my plate just now.”

  Jonas cringed from the scolding and escaped the bench they shared. The cook gave him a much needed hug before she asked him if she could help in anyway.

  Having just solved a case of a cook who poisoned unwanted suitors of her mistress, Vic spoke up. “You may pat his head all you wish, Mrs. Yarrows. However, you may not doctor our food. If you do, I’ll have to turn you over to Inspector Stone.”

  The cook’s mouth fell open in outrage.

  Gregory slapped Vic across the back of her head. “Out of the kitchen,” he bellowed. “And before you sit down at the table tonight, I expect you to apologize for that astoundingly rude remark.”

  Vic ran from the room and to the entry hall.

  Claire came out to investigate the uproar with her suitors in tow. She wore the latest fashion of a dark purple dinner dress with yellow trim. The tailored cut of the bodice highlighted her impossibly small waist. Blonde curls fringed her face, giving her the appearance of a small angel with a perky nose‒all too ripe for seduction.

  Vic slicked back her short blonde hair and studied the three young men. Well, two were young. The other had been young—about twenty years ago.

  “Vic, what did you do?” Claire asked.

  “I didn’t do anything. I simply warned our cook not to poison our guests.”

  That knocked the three smirking suitors off their game.

  “Why would you even say that? I hope you apologized at once. Mrs. Yarrows is an excellent cook, and neither I nor Gregory will forgive you if she quits over this.”

  “I didn’t mean to insult her.”

  “Not insult? Victor! How would you feel if someone said, ‘I hope you have not spread your clients’ secrets all over town’?”

  “I would never do such a thing, so they would not say it.”

  One of the younger suitors laughed. “And you’re supposed to be a genius?”

  Vic glared at him until the fellow lost his smirk. Then she returned to the kitchen. “Mrs. Yarrows, I heartily apologize. If you want to poison these suitors, I will do everything in my power to see you are not caught and hung.”

  Returning to Claire, she said, “I’ve apologized. I see the error in my thinking.”

  Claire kissed Vic’s cheek. “I am glad. Mrs. Yarrows is making us a very special dinner tonight.”

  ***

  As Vic sat in the parlor, her dislike of the men intensified, especially for the elder fellow, Mr. Simon.

  “Are you familiar with the philosophy of the Utilitarians?” he asked Claire as he sat much too close to her on the settee.

  Before Claire could reply, he continued. “Do not be shamed by your ignorance, you are still young. I am most willing to enlighten someone so eager to learn.” His eyebrows rose provocatively.

  He leaned closer to her, his arm stretching across the back of the settee. “The Utilitarians quest is for greater happiness. In order to truly understand and embrace life, a person must first experience every aspect of living, including all its pleasures and vices.”

  A rosy hue colored Claire’s cheeks.

  “Does that include murder?” Vic asked.

  The man paused and glared at Vic. “You seem to have a penchant for the macabre.” He then returned his attention to Claire. “I wa
s thinking of more delectable experiences that can culminate into effervescent nirvana. Only those who taste the nectars of the gods, can truly judge what is right and wrong. Only then can you find the ultimate rapture.”

  As Vic watched this disgusting display of flirtation, pontification, and pretentious behavior, she realized the cook might need a further clarification.

  Excusing herself, she returned to the kitchen. “Mrs. Yarrows, if you do plan to poison these hideous young men, can we devise a signal so I’ll know what Claire and I shouldn’t eat.”

  Jonas grabbed her by the arm. “I appreciate the thought, Vic, but you need to leave now, and not come back. Else Gregory is going to kill you when Mrs. Yarrows leaves.”

  Vic looked at the cook’s rigid back as she slammed pots about the stove. “I didn’t mean to insult you, Mrs. Yarrows. I understand your desire to get rid of these men. They are pretentious, obnoxious, arrogant, self-centered—”

  Gregory walked in during the last sentence. “Add insensitive to your list of faults and you may go.”

  Vic was about to explain she was talking about the suitors, but Jonas pulled her from the room and begged, “Please go back to the parlor and torment them instead!”

  Vic could see the desperation in Jonas’ eyes. “I’ll do the best I can. However, after dinner, I have to leave. So if they aren’t sick from the food, you are on your own.”

  ***

  After the annoying guests barely touched their appetizers, Vic realized she couldn’t depend on the food to get rid of the vermin. She had to find another way. Looking for a weak point, she focused in on the cretin who had questioned her intelligence. “So what is your field of study?”

  All three men stared at her in astonishment.

  “Vic! Mr. Simons was talking. Could you not wait and ask your question when he was done?”

  “Mr. Simons has been ‘talking’ for the last half-hour. I thought it time for a change of topic. I am your guardian, Claire. I have a right to interrogate the men you bring home.”

  That comment resulted in Gregory clearing his throat and giving Vic a frighteningly stern glare. At times like this, she wished for a normal butler.