“A month ago or so. I remember ‘cause he had on a fancy green coat and one of the barn pigeons sh…pardon me, miss, one of the birds relieved himself on it.”
Lord Spencer? She thought, concealing her surprise under a smile of farewell to the boy while remembering the green coat the peer wore frequently. She retreated into the bright sunshine to consider what he and Mr. Weatherby had said. The brutal fire, and the death of Jim’s parents garnered her sympathy, and gave her a better understanding of why Jim sealed himself up from emotion, from attachment. But why was Lord Spencer, if it had been he, enquiring about Jim? Was Spencer somehow connected with Jim’s past?
Focusing on one question at a time, she considered Jim’s name change. She should be troubled by it, but she was more curious about the reason. Did Edmund know? She thought back over everything she knew of Jim and his connection to Edmund, and Belinda’s association with her brother, trying to put dates on it.
Her brother died almost two and a half years ago in Antigua, and he knew Belinda and Jim before he journeyed there. Heath introduced Jim to Edmund so Edmund must know about the inn, the fire, and the name change.
She crossed the street, walking up and down several times to get a better sense of where Jim once lived. This time of day, the street and walks were busy, respectable looking with their shop fronts and businesses. No one seemed to notice her lack of an escort as shoppers rushed past and carriages rattled on the street. Alone in the crowd, she was free to think through the situation.
Strolling past the watchmaker’s shop again, she caught Mr. Weatherby’s eye, giving him a smile and wave through the glass. In the reflection, she sighted a man in a bright green coat, one just like Lord Spencer’s. Although he was on the opposite side of the street, she felt as though he watched her. She stopped at the next shop, ostensibly to admire a collection of rings and necklaces, but kept her eye out for a green coat.
Nothing. Perhaps it wasn’t him. She continued toward home with an occasional glance behind her. When she paused to admire a fine bonnet in a milliner’s window, a hand slipped under her arm, rubbing her side. Instinctively, she smashed back with her elbow as her brothers had taught her and heard a satisfying oomph and whoosh of air. Ready to sprint away, she caught a glimpse of green in the glass.
“Lady Ella,” Lord Spencer’s voice hitched slightly and he rubbed his side. “I didn’t expect,” he sucked in a breath, “such an action on your part.” Somehow he managed to look both charming and offended. He truly must be blessed to have such a skill. Yet, his expert flirting wore thin with her, so thin she could see through it like an old pair of stockings.
“I’ve been instructed in how to take care of myself when necessary.”
“I’ll remember to speak first in the future.” He wrapped her arm through his and pulled her against his side as if he had the right to. “I was surprised you were alone so far from your home.”
“Just running a few errands and doing some window shopping.” She lied smoothly. “I’m capable of walking alone.”
“So you are,” he again rubbed his wound, “I hope that doesn’t mean you’ll deny me the pleasure of walking you home. We could even detour into the park of you like.”
“I believe that I’ve been away long enough, but I don’t mind a companion on the walk back.” She attempted civility and gave him an enthusiastic smile. He might be a useful source of information, but she also wondered why he appeared to follow her on the street. Was his presence just a coincidence? Doubtful. London was too big for that.
****
“Lady Ella dismissed me early this morning and said I might have a few hours off, my lord.” The frightened maid focused on the fringed edge of the drapes instead of on her employer, Lord Richard Harwich.
Jim felt sorry for the girl, whose tousled red hair stuck out beneath her cap. She probably wished Richard away nearly as much as he did. Richard’s sudden appearance at Edmund’s home rippled through the household, threatening to be a full-blown hurricane if this maid didn’t provide better answers to his questions.
“Did she say where she was going?”
“No, my lord. She wanted to rest on account of her headache. When I returned to check on her a few hours later,” the girl’s eyes shifted from one man to the next now, “she was gone.”
“Have you ever known Ella to stay in bed with a headache?” Richard demanded, tapping his foot on the glossy wooden floor of Edmund’s drawing room.
“No, my lord. I guess…I thought…when she was gone that she’d left for the dress shop like she has the past few days.” Her voice trailed off into a whisper.
“It’s a logical conclusion, Harwich.” Edmund stepped in, waving away the girl. She might work for Richard technically, but it was his house. The maid disappeared so quickly she seemed swallowed by the floor.
“Logic and Ella rarely go together,” Richard sputtered with a glare at both the other men. “Any idea where she might have gone?” The question, directed toward Jim, bit like an irritated badger.
“She’s neither my sister nor my responsibility.” Jim pointed out, but worry gnawed anyway.
“Perhaps she is with Annabelle?” Edmund suggested.
“I stopped at the shop on my way here to drop off some items for Mary and my mother,” Richard said. “Ella was not there.”
“Some shopping then?” Edmund sounded more hopeful than helpful.
“Without an escort? At least her maid?”
“She tends to be impulsive,” Edmund commented quietly.
“I would think you all could keep track of her for a few days. I should not have let her come.” Richard could be a first-class bastard, but he loved his sister and wanted to protect her. Jim could appreciate that and forgive him a little. But standing around questioning maids wasn’t going to locate Ella.
It was broad daylight and the streets of London were not the dangerous place for ladies they once were, but he didn’t like the thought of Ella by herself. She’d be too finely dressed, swinging her bag on her wrist as she tended to do. An easy mark for a thief, especially if she went into certain parts of town. The mild concern for her he experienced when he learned she was gone started to bubble into a stomach eating fear. He headed for the drawing room door.
“Where are you going?” Richard demanded.
“To find her.” He paused to respond.
“Do you know where to look?” A note of insinuation tinged Richard’s words.
“No, but she’s not under the sofa, and arguing isn’t going to bring her through the door.” Part of that roiling fear in his gut pointed in the direction of Piccadilly. He suspected she might attempt to find his old neighborhood after her comment to him in the woodshop. Why, he couldn’t imagine, but it was like Ella to seek that out.
“I’ll assist you,” Edmund volunteered. “We can split up and cover more ground.” Edmund clamped a hand on Jim’s shoulder in a friendly gesture, but Jim, understanding what it meant, shook it off. He didn’t deserve Edmund’s sympathy over Ella. She wasn’t his and wouldn’t be despite how he felt about her.
Ahead of Edmund, Jim left the drawing room and rapidly crossed the foyer. A footman raced to open the door, but Jim waved the servant off. The opulent brass knob in his hand, he threw open the door and would have barreled across the threshold if Ella hadn’t been standing there.
“Oh!” Ella’s mouth formed a perfect, kissable O. Kissing her tempted him for a fraction of a second until he saw her companion. Spencer waited just behind her. “I…uh…ran into Lord Spencer while I was out for a walk,” she explained, although no one asked why she was with the aristocratic ass. “Richard, what are you doing here?”
“Not seeing you. Spencer.” Richard gave a nod to Ella’s companion, but it wasn’t future-brother-in-law friendly, in fact, it wasn’t friendly at all. It was more I’m-going-to-drill-you-between-the-eyeballs-for-touching-my-sister.
Jim thought farther south on Spencer’s body would make a better target, especially wh
en he rested a possessive hand on Ella’s back. Not his business. He had no claim to her so he stepped back, his fingers itching to do permanent damage to Spencer’s arrogant face.
“Your maid was unaware of your departure.” Richard scrutinized his sister’s face.
“I needed some fresh air after my headache,” Ella said walking toward her brother in what Jim hoped was an intentional movement to break contact with Spencer.
“Thank you for seeing my sister home.” Richard’s words were meant to dismiss Spencer, but he didn’t have the sense to go. Or perhaps he was enjoying the drama.
“Glad I happened on her. London’s no place for young ladies to be strolling alone.”
“Again, thank you.” Richard barred Spencer’s way into the drawing room where Edmund had led Ella.
“May I call on Lady Ella for her birthday celebration?” Spencer asked.
“Of course,” Richard replied tightly, at the end of his civility. “In the evening. Good afternoon to you.” Leaving Spencer in the foyer, Richard disappeared into the drawing room with Ella and Edmund, closing the door behind him.
He shut out both of Ella’s would-be suitors.
“Did you arrange this meeting with her?” Jim demanded, taking position directly in front of Spencer so he could use his extra height and hard-earned muscle to push the other man out the door.
“Not your place to ask, but since you did, yes. I sent her a note this morning.” Spencer didn’t retreat, but his privileged sneer was meant to intimidate Jim. Not a chance.
“And she met you? Where?”
“The place isn’t important, but I will say she was anxious for a rendezvous. I did consider taking her to your old neighborhood. Just to show her around.” Jim bumped a shoulder into Spencer, forcing him against the door. “But I wanted to take more pleasure in my assignation with my fiancée.”
Gripping Spencer’s elaborate cravat, Jim yanked him away from the door, opened it and flung him through. Spencer, suddenly released, ended in a well-dressed heap several yards away.
Spencer lurched to his feet. For a second, Jim hoped Spencer would charge him, giving him an excuse to fight. Instead, Spencer brushed himself off, straightened his clothing, and retreated to aristocratic ass mode. “I could have you charged with assault.”
“You could,” Jim agreed, not giving a damn what the repercussions were, “but if you do, I’ll make sure I get the most out of the charge. Your closest companions won’t recognize you.”
Chapter Eleven
October 5, 1858
Today is my nineteenth Birthday. It sounds so grown up. Perhaps it’s the magical age when others start taking me seriously.
I returned late from Lady Bedham’s reception last night and didn’t have the energy to write of yesterday’s events. That woman knows how to tax one to one’s limit. She continued to harass me about the marriage mart and my possibilities. Fortunately, Lord Spencer did not attend. In my rather unkind mind, he was too sore to put on dress clothes and risk a carriage ride.
Which brings me to my first treat on my birthday, I get to relive Jim’s treatment of Lord Spencer. Oh, how I wish I had been in the foyer so I could have seen Jim when he shoved Lord Spencer out the door. From what I saw from the drawing room windows, it must have been an extraordinary shove. The man landed at the bottom of the stairs. I think he may even have gotten some dirt from the flowerbed on his well-tended trousers. Delightful. But the best was Richard’s chuckle. I’m sure I wasn’t meant to hear that or see the grin he shot Edmund, but despite my focus on Lord Spencer’s circumstances, I noted what passed in the drawing room.
This confirms my suspicions. My family wishes me to marry Jim. So why are some of them (Richard!) making it so difficult? Why toss obstacles in my way or out of my way as the case might be? If I could bowl down those obstacles like a game of lawn bocce, it would be the best birthday present ever.
The men have disappeared to what I suspect is an important meeting. Earlier this morning, I observed Edmund and Jim entering a carriage with a large portfolio and a covered item that seemed the right size for the model Jim was building. I can’t wait for Jim’s return. Surely, he won’t refuse me a birthday kiss.
Tonight’s dinner might be the highlight of my young life.
Ella spent the day receiving well-wishers and preparing for the evening’s dinner and family party. By seven, she was too excited to stay in her room any longer. In her favorite ball gown as befitted a birthday even if there wasn’t a ball, she descended the stairs. Someone must be about although dinner wasn’t for another hour. She found Annabelle in the drawing room, anxiously watching out the front windows.
“Happy Birthday, Ella!” Her sister rushed toward her. “You look wonderful. Just as you should on your nineteenth birthday.” Annabelle kissed her cheek and the dressmaker in her inspected Ella’s gown. “Perfect,” she declared, “the color flatters your skin and makes your eyes glow.”
“As you planned,” Ella teased her sister who was lovely herself in a deep green gown accentuated by her diamond and emerald necklace and bracelets, gifts from Edmund during their courtship.
“Naturally. I’m the best modiste in London for a reason.” Annabelle returned to the windows, facing the street.
“Waiting for Edmund?” Ella questioned her sister.
“Yes, I haven’t had a word from him all day. It’s not like him.”
“I wish someone would tell me what all this secrecy is about.” Ella’s curiosity was piqued even more by Annabelle’s excitement.
“I think you’ll…” A carriage’s rattle drew their attention to the window. Almost before it stopped, Edmund swung down followed by Jim. Catching sight of the sisters in the window, Edmund smiled and swept an elaborate bow. Even Jim’s normally serious expression was transformed by happiness.
“It must have gone well,” Annabelle said, but couldn’t explain more before the men were in the room. Edmund rushed toward his wife, swept her into an embrace and kissed her.
During the protracted and passionate kiss, Jim’s face actually went red with embarrassment. He made eye contact with Ella briefly and then switched his attention to his shoes. She should have stayed where she was, but she couldn’t prevent herself from approaching him. Rising on her tiptoes, she kissed his cheek, hoping he’d take her in his arms, but not surprised when he didn’t.
“My guess is that you are to be congratulated.” Ella’s heart beat rapidly even if she didn’t know why. Jim looked more pleased than she’d ever seen him, the weight he’d been carrying around during the past few weeks tossed off.
“Indeed he is,” Edmund said, still a little breathless. “I give you the man of the hour.”
“I didn’t do it alone,” Jim spoke calmly despite his obvious excitement.
“Don’t believe him. I didn’t say twenty words today. It was all him.”
“What was?” Ella pleaded, wanting to know what made them all so giddy and what made her heart surge with pride for Jim.
“Our steam works—” Edmund started.
“Your steam works,” Jim corrected.
“Our steam works has just been hired to create the finest steam-operated, armor-plated warship ever designed. We need champagne.” Edmund pulled the cord for the butler who materialized from the hallway with amazing speed despite his advanced years. “It’s a day of celebration. Sanders, fetch the finest champagne in my cellar.”
“Very good, sir.” Sanders hurried from the room.
“We’ll celebrate our success and Ella’s birthday at the same time.” Edmund collapsed on a sofa, pulling Annabelle onto his lap. She protested with a little shriek, but wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck. “You two sit down as well.”
With a hand’s width between them, Ella and Jim sat on the opposite sofa. Although she angled toward him, Jim managed to lean back in a way that created a void between them.
“Congratulations,” she said to bridge the gap. “You must be happy.”
�
��I am. Thank you. And happy birthday.” He sounded unnecessarily formal.
“Give her a birthday kiss, Jim,” Edmund encouraged before turning his attention to his wife.
The retreating red in Jim’s otherwise tanned face bloomed again. “I…uh.” He stuttered to a stop, his eyes focused on her mouth. He leaned a little in her direction, giving her the invitation she craved.
Eliminating the space between them, she pressed her lips to his. It wasn’t a chaste sisterly kiss or a passionate lover’s kiss, but a perfectly sweet moment. Her hand found his and she kept hold of it when the kiss ended. Their clasped hands lost in her gown’s folds felt intimate and right. Since he made no attempt to break the attachment, he must have perceived it, too.
“Tell us all about the meeting,” Ella said, beyond thrilled at how her birthday party commenced.
“I’ll tell it. He’ll be too modest.” Edmund stopped when the door opened, admitting Richard and Sanders with the champagne and a tray of glasses. “Excellent, Richard, come sit so we don’t have to get up and help us celebrate with a glass.”
Richard’s eyes swept over the scene taking everything in. With one sister on her husband’s lap and the other holding hands with a man of whom he ostensibly didn’t approve, Ella expected him to unleash his most cutting censure. Surprisingly, he shrugged, visibly relaxed, and took the wing chair that completed the grouping of furniture.
Sanders served the champagne and quietly left the room. Edmund raised his glass from where he sat and said, “A toast. First to Ella on her nineteenth birthday. May she be blessed with happiness and love.” As they drank to her, a slight pressure from Jim’s hand still wrapped around hers was as intoxicating as the wine.
“And second to a successful meeting and a lucrative contract.”
“It’s only phase one of the contract,” Jim commented after they’d all drunk. “We’ve a lot of work ahead of us.”
“True, but I have no doubt of your success. To catch everyone up,” Edmund said, setting his empty glass on the table. “The committee, consisting of admirals and lords, was so impressed with Jim’s scale model of The Iron Lady that I thought the meeting would end within a half hour.”
Unforgettable Heroes II Boxed Set Page 201
