Well Kept Secrets (The Adventures of Xavier & Vic Book 4)

by Liza O'Connor

  Gregory pinched the bridge of his nose for a long moment then spoke. “That is a strong possibility. I cannot imagine any man who would not be proud to claim you as his son.”

  “Here, here!” Tubs held up his cup.

  “To Pete,” Davy added and sipped his hot cocoa.

  Jacko nodded as well. Gregory was right. Pete’s father was either dead or ignorant of the boy’s existence, because no one would refuse to claim this charmer. And he was going to find the fellow. Not Vic, not Xavier. Jacko Bienora was going to use his many skills and contacts to locate Pete’s father.

  And the starting point had to be the boy’s mother. “Pete, do you by chance have a picture of your mum?”

  The boy nodded.

  “May I borrow it?”

  “What for?” The boy’s puckered face left no doubt he didn’t want to part with the picture.

  “So I can find your father. I’ll give it back.”

  The little fellow sighed heavily. “Please don’t lose it.”

  Jacko met his anguished eyes. “I’ll guard it with my life.”

  Slowly, Pete pulled a locket from his vest and handed it to him.

  For some reason, the locket seemed familiar. Jacko opened the delicate latch and stared at the picture of a young woman. The picture was black and white, but he was certain her hair was fiery red.

  “What color was your mother’s hair?”

  “Red,” Pete replied.

  “And how old are you?” he asked, trying his hardest to keep his voice steady.

  “I’m nine.”

  “I need your birth date to calculate your age to the day.”

  “What good does that do?”

  “Well, if a man were a sailor, and he was off at sea most of the time, I could eliminate the possibility of him being your father if he was sailing when you were first conceived.”

  “Mum never told me when I was ceaved. All I know was when I was born.”

  “Conception occurs about nine months before.”

  “Unless she had Pete early. That might explain his small size,” Tubs added.

  That was possible which meant he’d need to allow for a two month window. “I can at least narrow the possible fathers down.”

  Pete’s eyes narrowed. “Possible fathers? Me mum was a good woman. There ain’t no fathers, there’s just one.”

  “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. But I’m sure she had men friends that helped her out over the years.”

  Shaking his head, Pete yelled, “No, she didn’t. She wanted nothing to do with men. She had me. I was her man. She didn’t want none of those fellows to come around.”

  Gregory stepped behind the boy and placed his hand on Pete’s shoulder. “Jacko never met your mother, so he couldn’t know what a good woman she was.” He leveled a stern scold upon Jacko. “I was there when Pete’s mother came to speak to Xavier. She went to great lengths to hide her natural beauty and avoided looking any man in the face.”

  Jacko glanced at the woman in the picture. She did possess an air of innocence. “I still need your birth date, Pete. Otherwise some dishonest fellow might claim you’re his just because he needs a new chimney sweep.”

  “January 24, 1887,” Pete replied without hesitation.

  That meant Pete was probably conceived in April of 86. Given Maggie was pretty enough to catch a man’s eye, he suspected the fellow was either married or married to the sea. Based on Gregory’s opinion of the woman, he doubted she’d get involved with a married man. So his first path would be to search the docks for sailors who were in London during April of 86.

  Despite the assurances of the cook, he doubted a judge would rule in favor of a sailor without hearth or home over a wedded couple of great wealth who declared their desire to adopt the boy.

  He’d spend six days trying to find Pete’s real father, and assuming he succeeded, and the fellow looked to have the makings of a decent father, he’d give the man a job that would assure any judge Pete would be properly raised.

  If after six days, he hadn’t found the father or didn’t like the father he found, he would claim Pete as his own. If Claire discovered he was at sea in April, he would use Tubs suggestion and say Pete had been born a month early. Fortunately, Jacko had been in London during May 86 for two months while his ship was repaired.

  One way or another, he was getting Pete in better hands than here. Thank God his generous wife had already made the latter option possible.

  “It is time for your bath, Master Peter.” Gregory said.

  The boy groaned. “Not again. I just had one.” He glanced up at Jacko. “Tell them all this bathing is unnatural.”

  Jacko ran his fingers through the boy’s hair. “Actually, I envy you. I’d give anything to have a bath.”

  Pete smiled up at Gregory. “Can Jacko have my bath? He really wants one.”

  Gregory’s brow furrowed. “He cannot have yours. Miss Claire has insisted you bathe daily. However, I would be most willing to fill the other tub so that you could have company in your hour of torture.”

  “I can’t just give it up?” Pete asked.

  Gregory shook his head.

  The boy sighed heavily, then looked at Jacko. “Were you just saying that to make me like baths, or do you really want one?”

  “I really want it.” He glanced at Gregory. “I can’t imagine Miss Claire will be pleased if an uninvited guest extends his unwanted presence by taking a bath.”

  Gregory smiled. “This is Victor’s house as well. And as his friends and protectors, you will always be welcomed as family.”

  Tubs smiled at Jacko, clearly pleased he’d been right.

  “Then I accept.” Jacko stood up.

  Pete sighed heavily. “Then I accept mine too.”

  Gregory chuckled and left the room.

  Pete’s eyes rounded as he stared at Tubs and Davy. “Did you guys want baths?”

  Thankfully, they both refused. Any additional bath sharing might have stretched Gregory’s patience too thin.

  ***

  As they lounged in the large bathroom, with Gregory washing Pete while Jacko washed himself, he got the boy to talk about his mother.

  “She was shy in public, but in our room she was so happy that she made the dreary dump seem like heaven. She’d sing all the time. My favorite was Star of the East. You ever hear that one?”

  “I did once. By a very beautiful actress if I recall. She had the purest voice. No warbling, just a crystal clear tone.”

  Pete nodded. “That’s how me mum sang. I loved her voice.” His face puckered in pain. “I loved everything about her.” He leapt from the tub and ran out of the room naked and wet.

  Gregory walked to the door and sent a servant after the boy. He then closed the door and leveled his stare at Jacko. “The boy needs his father. I fear Miss Claire wants to adopt him, but he will never be happy here.”

  “I won’t let that happen. I’ll claim him myself first.”

  “He does look amazingly like you. Down to the same birthmark on your calves.”

  Jacko frowned at that comment. “Well, he can’t be mine because I was on the ocean fighting for my life in April of 86.” Still, he was most curious to see if Pete really had a similar birthmark or if Gregory had made it up to get a rise out of him.

  “It’s odd though,” Gregory added. “His mother was adamant that Pete never be allowed in your presence, almost as if she wished to hide the boy from you.”

  That didn’t surprise Jacko in the least. “I was a pirate, who had killed more men than Tubs. What mother would want her child around me?”

  “So you don’t recall the woman in the locket?” Gregory challenged.

  He didn’t, but what bothered him was the locket itself. That did seem familiar. “My life was hell back then. I hated what I did, but I couldn’t figure out how to leave it. When I hit land, I would get away from all the atrocities I’d committed by burying myself in women. Lots of women.”

  “Any of th
em redheads?”

  “More than I can count. I had a penchant for redheads.” He met Gregory’s stare. “Pete isn’t mine. But I will claim him if I haven’t found his real father by the end of this week.”

  Gregory nodded once. “Do you require my attendance any further?”

  “No. I’ve got the bathing process down.”

  “Very good. In that case, I will see to my other duties.”

  Once he left, Jacko rolled his eyes. Why the hell rich people believed they required help with bathing still baffled him.

  As he scrubbed his back with a long handle brush, his thoughts returned to that locket. The image of him pointing at it in a case and then passing over the princely sum of twenty pounds flashed before his eyes. “Pure silver,” the jeweler had claimed. A woman clung to Jacko’s side, but he couldn’t remember anything about her.

  Still, he must have liked her considerably to buy her such a locket. He sighed. The details of his life back then were faint and few between. Remembering the past only clouded his future.

  How had Maggie come into ownership of the locket? Was it the one he had bought, or one that looked a great deal like it? He would return to the jeweler tomorrow and see if the old man’s memory was clearer than his.

  Chapter 16

  “So what information do you have on the case,” Vic asked in the soft moment after making love.

  Xavier smiled at his pup’s tenacity for solving crimes. If he had searched the world over, he could not have found a better mate. “Alice brought me a case that appears to have a possible connection.

  “Alice…Jacko’s wife?”

  “Yes. She received a letter from Lady Thurman warning her she had seen Jacko in a passionate kiss with a young lady in the street. The woman encouraged Alice to come to London and retrieve her husband at once.”

  Vic huffed. “So that’s how you knew of the kiss. Well, I assure you, this lady has never experienced a moment of passion in her life if she believed it to be one.”

  “That’s probably true, however more to the point, this woman would never write to Alice…nevertheless call her a friend.”

  “You neglected to mention that last part,” Vic grumbled.

  Xavier pulled her tighter to his chest. “The day before this letter was received, I followed Conrad to Lady Meridan’s house, where I discovered he had insisted upon knowing the names of Alice’s friends here in London.”

  “I’m not sure Alice had any social acquaintances before the trial, but she certainly didn’t after. Society shunned her and her mother, despite the fact they were victims of a vicious monster.”

  “Lady Meridan mentioned her shock Conrad would think anyone would be friends with Alice, but he refused to leave without a name, so she gave him Margaret Thurman’s since evidently no one disapproved of Alice more.”

  Vic chuckled. Now it all made sense. “Any chance you kept the letter Lady Thurman was supposed to have written?”

  “Downstairs in a file.”

  Vic was off the bed before he had time to change her mind. Damn it. He was greatly enjoying the new body she’d returned with.

  Seeing as how she was already half dressed, he rose and attempted to help her put on her muslin shirt that would crush her breast flat and widened her waist.

  To no surprise, the shirt would not go over those large beautiful breasts.

  “Did you let someone wash and shrink my shirts?” Her naturally low voice rose in anxiety.

  “The shirts are the same as they were when you left them. It is you who has changed.” He pulled her close and ran his hands through her oily hair. His pup dearly needed a bath. “Should we try to wash and shrink you?”

  She pushed away and sat with great petulance upon the side of the bed. “What am I going to do? One look and everyone will know I’m a woman!”

  “We can leave for Europe tomorrow.”

  “What? No! We have a case to solve! Pete would be devastated if we go off on holiday while his mother’s murderers are left running about.”

  He pulled her up and handed her one of his shirts. “Then let’s get downstairs and solve this case before you get any bigger.”

  “What if our employees return and see me?”

  “I expect Ben was sent home for the night, and while I have no idea where the other three went off to, if they return, it won’t matter. I believe they all know your true gender.”

  “What! How?”

  He started to pet her head and decided against it. She looked ready to bite. “We live in close quarters, Vic. Jacko and Tubs have noses like bloodhounds, and Davy is very much the nosy mother hen.”

  “Are you certain they know?”

  “Both Jacko and Davy have brought the matter to my attention…as if I didn’t know.” Xavier snorted at the possibility. “Tubs…his loyalties lie first with you, so I doubt he’ll ever mention it to me.”

  His pup was not appeased. “Have you told Davy and Jacko they can’t tell people?” she demanded.

  “They’ve known for years, Vic. Your secret is safe.”

  Finally, she calmed.

  Once downstairs, she headed right to the letter, which she found without any guidance from him. After one read, she declared the true writer. “Schnell wrote this. He called me Jane Ear. Ignorant fool. I told him my name was Jane Eyre.”

  “To that point. Had he been literate, he would have known this was not your real name.”

  “Of course, it’s not real. If I gave him a ‘real’ name, he could expect to be able to locate my family and verify my unfortunate past. I gave him a blatantly false name on purpose.” She sniffed. “It’s what my pathetic personification would have done.”

  With his hands palm outward in surrender, Xavier dropped his complaint. “Very clever, pup, now focus on the bone at hand. Why would Schnell want to remove Jacko from London? What is he preventing from happening?”

  Vic grimaced and resumed her attention on the letter.

  Xavier groaned as he realized a mistake in his prior orders. “Damn it. I should have left Ben watching the back alley.”

  “I believe Jacko hired someone to do so,” Vic replied. “But the reason he wanted Jacko removed is not related to our case. Mr. Schnell wishes to court me if only I’d give up on Jack.”

  Recalling the short, round, and terribly unattractive proprietor, Xavier chuckled. “And thus explains the kiss of passion in the middle of the street.”

  “Forget that!” Vic snapped as she moved on to his interview notes. “Alice was told Lady Thurman was traveling in Europe.”

  “Which she feared meant the woman was put into Bedlam like her mother was.” Xavier thought it most unlikely and would have dismissed the possibility altogether if not for large quantity of chloroform and laudanum the apothecary maintained.

  Vic dropped the notes on the table and sorted through the past files like a rabid chipmunk. Finding what she sought, she opened it and rapidly scanned the pages.

  “Just as I thought. The policeman involved remain unnamed in Alice’s case, which means he was never prosecuted.”

  “You can’t assume that. The press does not follow every arrest Stone makes.”

  She stared up at him with her blue eyes sparkling. “I am certain he was never charged because Minister Thurman, or someone like him, pulls Stone’s leash. I believe the removal of unwanted wives has grown into a thriving business since the marriage laws were changed giving women the right to retain some of their property.”

  Xavier didn’t even bother complaining that Vic had no proof. She never had proof, yet her strange thought process more often than not turned out correct.

  She stood up. “I need to interrogate Stone…does he know I’m a woman?”

  “No, I believe he thinks we are male lovers.”

  His response caused her to frown and chew her bottom lip. “If he ever arrests you for indecency, I’ll come forth and reveal my gender. I would not have you destroyed by society’s hypocritical wrath.”

  Xavier
appreciated the safety net. Society was most fickle. They would overlook anything, even murder, as long as it was done discreetly. But if the press became involved, they would minimally wash their hands of the person, and possibly destroy them. He feared if Oscar Wilde did not cease his feud with Queensbury, the father of his current lover, the playwright would soon discover society’s wrath, since Queensbury was not being subtle in his insults and accusations.

  “Are you listening to me?” Vic demanded.

  “Sorry, pup. I was thinking about Oscar.”

  “Waste of time. Oscar Wilde will do what he wants. Unfortunately, he thinks his fame makes him untouchable. Since he has ignored your advice, there’s nothing more you can do in the matter. But there are women we probably can save. Only I don’t see how I can with these giant monstrosities poking from my chest.”

  Xavier captured her hands to stop them from shoving angrily at her breasts hidden only by his silk shirt. “I happen to think them beautiful.” He took a moment to admire her shapely mounds. “However, I believe for a while, your disguises will need to be as a female. Shall we go to my safe house and see what I might have that will fit you?”

  She frowned. “Do they let women in to see the inmates at Bedlam?”

  “Certain types of women, yes.”

  ***

  Vic was furious that her body had failed her when so much was at risk. Even if they had proof on Maggie’s murderers, Vic knew, unless they could prove Schnell’s protector was guilty of some socially unacceptable crime, the legal system would not be able to touch Schnell or Conrad and the crimes would continue. She desperately needed Lady Thurman to be in Bedlam, still alive, and of sound mind.

  While Xavier proved to have a disturbingly large quantity of dresses of various widths for someone of her height, she still believed she’d be more successful if she could enter as a young man. Then for a half crown, she could be left alone with any woman she wished.

  Vic glared with annoyance at the strumpet in mirror. Her blonde wig was styled with an excessive amount of curls and feathers. Her fine black silk dress would have been acceptable if not for the crimson silk which barely covered her giant breasts. Her fashionable lady’s winter boots were warm, but deuced uncomfortable.