by Sara Bennett
She seemed to stiffen, but her smile didn’t leave her mouth. “Jackson?”
“Yes, Sally, Jackson. We both know who I mean.”
She sighed. “What’s ’e been up to now?”
“I won’t know until I see him.”
Sally came down the rest of the stairs and, with a shrug, led him toward the nether regions of the building. They descended some stairs and it grew gloomier.
“I know ’e can be a slippery one,” she said conversationally, “but ’e’s useful. I use ’im for errands, other little jobs I ’ave. He knows the East End like the back of ’is ’and.”
“Jackson and I are old friends,” Rufus offered. “You don’t need to worry.”
Sally turned to look at him, and then shrugged again. At the bottom of the stairs she pointed to a door. “’E’s in there. Probably still asleep,” she added, and then left him to it.
Rufus opened the door without knocking. Jackson lay on a narrow bed, the covers over his head, one boot sticking out the bottom. Obviously he didn’t bother with such niceties as undressing for sleep. Rufus suspected that was because Jackson never knew when he might have to make a run for it.
Rufus leaned against the door to prevent that happening. There were no windows, so he thought he was safe enough. He cleared his throat. Loudly.
The bedclothes stirred, and then a head lifted and bleary eyes peered at him. The eyes widened and Jackson shot out of the bed like a bullet from a gun, and then promptly fell onto the floor as his boots caught in the covers.
“Lord Southbrook,” he said, his voice a squeak. “What a pleasure this is, sir.” He blinked. “You’re looking well.”
Jackson was one of the most ugly men Rufus had ever seen, but there was something about his ugliness that made you trust him. What you saw was what you got. Except it wasn’t. Jackson was also a slippery, lying manipulator and the thought of him having anything to do with Averil was intolerable.
“You were with Lady Averil Martindale the other night, weren’t you?”
Jackson licked his lips.
“Don’t try and lie. I saw you there. And I saw you run off when you saw me. You left her all alone, Jackson. You do realize that? A gently reared young lady all alone in the stews.”
Jackson shrugged. “I’m sorry. I went round the next day to say I was sorry, but her old biddy companion wouldn’t let me in. That night . . . I saw you and I panicked.”
Rufus waited a beat. “Why did you panic? I’m no longer a Guardian. And even when I was you didn’t do much to help me. You were more of a liability.”
Jackson managed to look hurt. “Don’t say that. I brought you some good information, sir. I risked life and limb for you.”
Rufus laughed. “Jackson, you would never risk anything for anyone. All you care about is Jackson. You panicked because you are up to mischief. Now, I’m warning you, stay away from Lady Averil.”
Jackson’s eyes narrowed. “I’m helping her with finding her sister.”
“No, you’re not. Not anymore. I’m helping her.”
After a moment of considering this, Jackson shrugged, but there was something sly in his face that made Rufus wonder if this was really the end of the matter.
“I hear you do some little jobs for Doctor Simmons, too. I hope you aren’t fleecing that gentleman, Jackson.”
“Nah, he pays the going rate. Now can I get back to sleep? If you’re finished with me, that is? I was up until the church clock struck five.”
There didn’t seem much point in staying any longer and Rufus left him to it. But as he walked back up the stairs the stirring of unease returned, a prickling that warned him something wasn’t right. Jackson and Sally, neither of them were to be trusted. There was something going on, and even though he was no longer a Guardian, Rufus knew he wouldn’t be happy until he found out what it was.
CHAPTER NINE
* * *
The Honorable James Blainey smiled at the two women, and Eustace, with Hercules at his side. “I say,” he said cheerily, “this is pleasant, isn’t it? No wonder Eustace came over to visit. Not,” he added, with a belated frown at the boy, “that he should have. His father won’t be pleased.”
“Then don’t tell him,” Eustace said practically.
“Well, I have to, Eustace. I’m in the bad books and anything I can do to get out of them, well, I have to do it. You understand.”
Eustace appeared sulky.
Averil smiled. James Blainey was a rogue but a polite and rather charming rogue, and although, from what she’d seen, he might have a gambling problem, there was no viciousness in him.
She turned to Beth, to ask if she would ring for more tea, and found her companion a little flustered. “Of course,” Beth said, rising to her feet. “Do you wish for more cake, as well?”
“Oh please, may we?” Eustace piped up.
“We rarely have cake at home,” James mused. “The housekeeper says she has enough to do, and besides, I’m too old for cake.”
He sounded so woebegone that Beth’s heart seemed to soften. Her smile was warmer than she probably realized. “Cake it shall be, sir.”
Averil looked away so that they wouldn’t see her surprise, and amusement. Was this practical Beth? Who’d just this moment been warning her about the perils of taking in more strays?
James was openly admiring Beth’s trim figure as she pulled the bell rope, his dark eyes full of warmth. “I was under the impression that Miss Harmon here was a dragon. Wasn’t that what you said, Eustace?”
“I said that Papa said she wasn’t a dragon,” Eustace replied through clenched teeth. “And it’s rude to repeat what I said in private, Uncle James.”
James was unabashed. “Oh, is that what you said? Well, I can certainly concur with that. Or if she is, then she’s a very attractive and delightful dragon,” he finished gallantly.
Beth sat down again and didn’t seem to know where to look.
“Are you staying in London long?” Averil asked, to move the conversation on to safer ground.
“I don’t know,” James said, and suddenly he was gloomy, all his smiles gone.
“Uncle James doesn’t like Southbrook Castle,” Eustace explained. “It’s situated in Lincolnshire, and the weather comes straight off the North Sea. The land is very flat so there’s nothing to stop it before it reaches the castle. Sometimes the shudders rattle so hard I’m sure they’re about to fly right off.”
James shuddered.
“Uncle James prefers London,” Eustace added, with a sympathetic smile.
“Well, I prefer London, too, so I can understand that,” Beth said brightly. “Do you like the opera, sir?”
James’s eyes widened. “Goodness, no. It’s the ballet for me. Have you seen the ballet, Miss Harmon?”
“The ballet!” Beth sighed.
Averil sat, bemused, as their conversation went on around her. At one point Eustace caught her eye and grinned, and she nodded toward the garden. It couldn’t hurt, she thought, as she led the boy and dog back outside, to leave Beth and James together. They were not children after all, and they did not need a chaperone.
“I did think Beth was a dragon,” Eustace said, watching Hercules prancing after the ball. “The way you spoke about her that night, when Papa carried you. You seemed frightened of her.”
“I was frightened of what she’d say to me,” Averil explained, “but she only scolds because she cares. I know that. Beth would never hurt anyone. She’s a-a marshmallow.”
Hercules returned, panting, and handed the ball over, covered in slobber. Eustace didn’t seem to mind. He threw it again. Averil thought that Hercules was going to sleep very well tonight.
“I had a nanny,” Eustace said after a moment. He wasn’t looking at her but there was something in his voice that made her watch him more closely. “Her name was Mrs. Slater. She used to pinch me if I did anything wrong, and then call me a crybaby if I cried. And she didn’t give me any food some nights, just took it for
herself. She’d eat it in front of me, and I felt really, really hungry.”
Averil tried to be calm. She clenched her hands in her lap and sat still, when what she really wanted to do was to pull Eustace into her arms and hug him tight. But she didn’t think he would like that. He’d be embarrassed.
“She sounds like a horrible person,” she said bluntly. Was this why Eustace was in London with his father? Was this why he hadn’t been sent away to school like the other young sons of the quality?
Eustace looked up at her quickly. “She was. Horrible.” He seemed relieved to have her agreement, and Averil realized he’d been worried she’d tell him he was a crybaby, too.
“What happened to Mrs. Slater?” Averil said curiously.
“Uncle James noticed the bruises and told Papa, and Papa sent her away. I’d never seen them so angry.”
“I’m glad,” Averil said. “What a terrible thing to happen to you, Eustace. But I do think you were unlucky with Mrs. Slater. Most nannies are nice and love children. You’d have to be very unlucky to meet anyone like that again. And if you did, then you’d know to tell your father, wouldn’t you?”
Eustace agreed that he would. He seemed to brighten up at the thought that the Mrs. Slaters of this world were few and far between, and if he did encounter one then he knew what to do.
Averil watched him throw the ball again, laughing as Hercules leapt over a bush, but inside her blood was boiling. How could anyone be so cruel to a child? She would never understand it. No wonder Lord Southbrook kept his son close to him. She was growing to like the earl more and more.
“I’m sorry, Papa.”
The note from James had been waiting for Rufus when he got home and at first he’d been furious that, after promising not to, his son had run off again. But when he reached Averil’s house and found them all cozy together in the parlor, that wretched dog taking up most of the floor space, he couldn’t continue to be angry. He’d always found it difficult to be angry with his son.
“I wanted to see Hercules again,” Eustace continued with his apology, looking up at Rufus with wide, innocent eyes. “And Averil said she didn’t mind. She said it was good for Beth’s nerves to have Hercules running about, to tire him out, you see.”
Rufus gave him a hard look. “Lady Averil,” he reminded him sternly.
“Oh, we’ve put all of that aside,” Averil said, her smile further eroding his angry father stance. “Eustace and I are friends.”
Eustace nodded, smiling at her. “Did you know, Papa, that Averil rescued Hercules from a man who was beating him? And he was so thin and sick, but she nursed him back to health.”
Rufus eyed the dog. “Doesn’t look as if it’s starving now,” he offered, and gave Averil a smile of his own. “But I’m not surprised Lady Averil would do something so kind.”
She was pouring tea for him, but he could see he’d made her blush.
“Actually, I was thinking about you,” he said, lowering his voice.
Startled, she looked up. For a moment he could only stare at her, as if he were under a spell, until James said something to Miss Harmon, and snapped him out of it. Averil turned back to the tea things and handed him his cup.
“Why were you thinking about me?” she asked him softly. “I’m sure you have more interesting things to think about, Lord Southbrook.”
He wondered if that were true. There were his debts and the future, but he didn’t want to think about them. There was James and Eustace, and all the other people dependent upon him. But he didn’t want to think about that, either. Thinking of Averil seemed a very good way to pass the time.
He cleared his throat. “I have a large house on my estate at Southbrook Castle. The dower house. It was where we used to put all the old poverty-stricken relatives, out of the way of the main house, but it’s been empty for years now. It needs some work on it, of course, but I was thinking it would be an ideal place for some of your Distressed Women. Certainly it’s isolated enough to keep them from straying.”
She looked surprised. “What a good idea! Of course, transporting them to Lincolnshire might be difficult. And I’d have to ask Gareth—after all, this is his project. I am only supposed to be helping him.”
Rufus sipped his tea. The hem of her dress was raised enough for him to see her lemon-yellow shoes, and her ankles, which were very neat in their white stockings. He wondered what it would be like to sit with her in the evenings at Southbrook Castle, with those little feet on his lap, and stroke her ankles. Yes, he’d start at her ankles and move upward, slowly, very slowly . . .
Rufus cleared his throat again. “Well, think about it. The offer is there.”
As long as he didn’t have to sell the castle and the land and everything else, he thought, his mood slipping into gloom. Perhaps he shouldn’t have mentioned the house but the idea had come to him and he hadn’t really thought it out in any detail. But now he’d mentioned it he felt rather proud of himself, and pleased with the glow in Averil’s gray eyes.
No matter how ill-judged that glow was. Because if she really knew what was in his mind she would be throwing her cup at his head and setting Hercules onto him.
Miss Harmon was suggesting that she and James take Eustace and Hercules out into the garden again. “One last play before you leave,” she said. A glance passed between her and Averil, and Rufus tried not to smile. He could guess what that meant. The companion was leaving her charge in the same room as the wicked earl, alone, and she was warning her to take extreme care not to be ravished.
Oh God, Rufus thought, the fragile tea cup rattling in his hand, don’t go there. Averil on the bed, half-naked, her hair wild around her, her lips parted as he . . .
“More tea?” She was smiling innocently at him and he pulled himself together.
“Thank you.”
He handed the cup to her and she topped it up. He noticed she kept her fingers well away from his but all the same he managed to brush them lightly with his fingertips. She blushed.
Such innocence. Was he really planning to marry this sweet young woman? Could he really do something so dastardly?
“Eustace told me about Mrs. Slater.”
Rufus stared. Suddenly he felt completely sober. “He told you?” he said. “He never tells anyone.”
“Well, he told me,” she said, and he could see the fury in her eyes, in her face. A Valkyrie, that was what she was. Forget the sweet innocent. Averil was a Viking maiden going to war.
“Averil—”
“I was so angry. You have no idea. But I thought it was better to be calm, so I pretended. I told him that most nannies are lovely and Mrs. Slater must have been an-an aberration. Well, something like that.” She leaned closer and he could see the swell of her bosom beneath her floral dress, the dip at the base of her throat where he’d like to put his tongue. “Do you think that was the right thing to do?”
“Yes, yes, I do. He rarely talks about it. As you can imagine, it was a dreadful situation, and he is yet to recover his confidence. That woman said things to him that knocked him down. I hope we are slowly building him back up. He should be at school but, well, I thought it best to leave it until next year.”
“He’s a dear.”
Rufus knew he had a silly grin on his face. “Don’t let him hear you say that. He thinks he’s tough as old boots.”
Averil hesitated, biting her lip. Rufus stifled a groan.
“He seems lonely. If you don’t mind me saying so.”
“I don’t mind,” he said, dropping his voice. They were very close now. He could see her gray eyes had golden flecks in them, and there was a tiny mole on her temple, near her hairline. “He is lonely I suppose, but there’s not much to be done about it. At home, at Southbrook, he has friends. People are not so judgmental there,” he added.
“Oh, I see.”
He was going to kiss her.
“Pardon me if this is private, but won’t Eustace need to be part of London society one day? When he is earl? W
ouldn’t it help him if you were to return to society yourself, Lord Southbrook?”
Rufus blinked. He didn’t know whether to laugh or roar with frustration. The wretched woman was trying to save him! Of course, he should have realized. The dog, the Home for Distressed Women, Eustace . . . and probably plenty of other lost animals and strays Averil had “saved” over the years.
Well, she wasn’t going to save him, unless . . . Rufus felt the anger drain out of him. Unless she decided to give him her fortune, there was that, of course.
“I fear I am a lost cause,” he said quietly, watching her. “No hostess would invite me into her salon, dear Averil.”
Now was her chance to simper and tell him she would help him to regain his lost position among the elite. Once again Averil surprised him.
“Not even for the sake of your son?” she said in a sharp voice.
The Valkyrie was back again. And then it seemed to occur to her how ridiculous their argument was, because she gave a breathless laugh.
“Forgive me,” she said, reaching to place her hand on his. “I am rather too interfering at times, so Beth tells me. I’m sure you are perfectly capable of doing what must be done for your son.”
He turned his hand over so that their fingers clasped. She looked a little startled but didn’t pull away. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed first her palm and then each of her fingertips.
“Oh,” she breathed.
Outside Hercules was barking at the cat next door, which was sitting on the high stone wall, taunting him with its inaccessibility.
Rufus rose to his feet and she stared up at him, probably wondering what he was going to do next. Ravish her, he wouldn’t be surprised.
“I’m sorry we all landed on you like this,” he said. “It was very rude of my son and he will be punished for it.”
“Oh no, please. At least . . . I know it was wrong of him, but please don’t punish him. He can come and visit me any time. Hercules will love it.”
“And I, Averil? Am I welcome at any time?”
Her cheeks were pink. She stood up, brushing her skirts with hands that seemed a little unsteady, and although she was looking down he could see her lips curled into a smile. “Of course, Lord Southbrook,” she said.
