Wicked Earl Seeks Proper Heiress

by Sara Bennett

  Beth sniffed. “It’s the same thing, isn’t it? How do you trust a man who doesn’t tell you the whole truth? No, Averil, I don’t want to talk about either of the Southbrooks.”

  Averil didn’t demur because she didn’t want to talk about them, either. “I’ll see you at supper then.” She’d reached the door when Beth spoke again.

  “Why did you leave Hercules at the castle? You do know that they’ll see it as a sign that you want further contact with them?”

  Averil stared. Her heart gave a thump. “I left him for Eustace, because he begged me to. There was nothing else to it, Beth. I certainly didn’t do it because I wanted anyone to chase after me.”

  But Beth shook her head and turned away.

  Averil closed the door behind her and stood a moment on the landing. She hadn’t left Hercules for any reason but the one she’d stated. Had she? Subconsciously was she hoping that Rufus would follow her with the dog? She knew how much he disliked Hercules. Could one make a decision without one’s consciousness knowing about it?

  Just for a moment hope fluttered inside her, but she quashed it. Brutally.

  Rufus wouldn’t come. Of course he wouldn’t. He was probably seeking out another rich wife by now. She must not imagine for a moment there was a chance they could reconcile, no matter how much that hurt.

  It was over.

  Rufus leaned against the wall in his shabbiest coat and pulled an equally shabby cap down over his eyes. He always thought it was remarkable that, with the right clothes, he could disappear into the background. No one even glanced at him twice. Slouched shoulders and head bent, eyes on the cobbles at his feet, and he became the sort of man that others allowed to go on his way.

  He’d thought of Averil all the way to London, dreaming of arriving at her doorstep and taking her in his arms, but he knew he couldn’t just turn up. What would that solve? It might cause her to harden her heart against him even more. No, the thing to do was to complete his mission for her. To show her he was to be trusted. He would use his skills as a Guardian to discover just what was going on with the Home, and he would find Rose, Averil’s lost sister.

  When he did that, when he’d presented her sister to her on a plate, how could she still be angry with him? And when he told her about the castle and his intention to sell, then surely she would throw her arms about him and all would be well?

  At least, that was his hope. If he went home without her he dreaded to think what James and Eustace would do to him. Lock him deep in the castle dungeons probably. And he rather thought he would like to be locked down there, sunk in gloom and brokenhearted. It was what he deserved.

  Over the past two weeks he’d followed Jackson and watched him meet with several of the women from the Home. An hour ago he’d seen Jackson bundle one of the women, a pretty little thing with bright eyes and curling hair, into a hackney cab and drive off with her. Now he was waiting outside the house they’d driven to until Jackson and the woman came out again.

  He shuffled his feet. A skinny boy came up to him with his hand out, but a scowl sent him on his way again. The boy made him think of Eustace, and he took note of where the boy went, to the opposite corner, so that he could throw a coin his way when his watch was over.

  Movement at the door of the house caught his eye and he made sure to keep his cap low while still managing to see. There was Jackson and the woman . . . but no, it wasn’t the woman he’d gone in with. It was Sally Jakes!

  Rufus watched as redheaded Sally paused to call some final instructions back into the house, and then she caught hold of Jackson’s arm and they were heading down the steps and onto the street. A moment later he had hailed a cab and helped her into it, and watched as it rattled off. Jackson shoved his hands into his pockets and set off along the street on foot.

  Rufus waited until he was out of sight before he strolled casually across to the house and climbed the steps to the front door.

  A woman in a sober dress and with genteel manners let him inside, but he was not fooled. This was a brothel, a rather high-class one, but a brothel nonetheless. When he asked to spend some time with the woman who had just arrived, she was wary, but he put on his best aristocratic manner and soon persuaded her. She led him upstairs to a dimly lit room. A bed with gaudy crimson hangings and overstuffed pillows took up a prominent position.

  “Betty! This gentleman asked for you particularly, so be a good girl to him.”

  The door closed on them. Betty had been hurriedly combing her hair, but when she turned and saw who it was, her eyes grew big and frightened. She remembered him from the Home, of course, and it only took a moment for her to start to cry and then admit to what had happened. Rufus felt sorry for her, but less so when he saw the sly glance she gave him as she was mopping her eyes, to see if he was taken in.

  He paid her for her silence, and was soon outside again, where the skinny boy caught the coin he tossed and gave him a grin. Rufus was in a buoyant mood. He knew now what was going on. He knew why women were going missing, and he could even take a guess as to why one of them had died.

  He had to stop it before it went any further. Before anyone else was hurt. He still had friends in authority, but Rufus thought it was only fair to let Dr. Simmons know first, before he called in the constables. He lengthened his stride in the direction of the Home for Distressed Women.

  Averil was on her way to another sewing lesson in the common room, when she noticed Violet sneaking out of the back door. She opened her mouth to call out, but there was something so furtive about her that Averil changed her mind and remained silent. Where was Violet going? She was usually waiting for sewing—it was one of the few lessons, besides cooking, that she liked to participate in.

  Since they’d returned to the East End, Violet had been even more anxious and sullen. Gone was the girl she thought she had grown to know at Southbrook Castle, and she found she missed the camaraderie that had grown up between them. When she had tried to ask Violet again what was wrong, the girl had stared at her as if she were insane and then turned her back.

  Should she follow? Violet wouldn’t like it, but perhaps this was her way of discovering just what the girl was hiding from her.

  A moment later she was following her down the narrow alley that led away from the Home and into the myriad of streets surrounding it.

  At first she kept well back, so that she wouldn’t be seen, but Violet didn’t seem to be interested in looking behind her. She was intent on making her way through the crowded narrow lanes as quickly as possible. Twice Averil almost lost her, and then they turned into a courtyard she remembered, and she realized they were nearing The Tin Soldier.

  This was where Rufus had carried her in his arms that memorable night.

  Averil stumbled, and told her thoughts to behave themselves. No time now for maudlin memories, she needed all her wits to keep track of Violet.

  A moment later they reached their destination, and it was indeed The Tin Soldier. Violet had told her she did visit here sometimes, to check if any of the women from the Home were here, but the way in which the girl was behaving now seemed far too suspicious to have such a simple explanation. Averil hid behind a water trough, chewing on her lip and looking up at the building dubiously. The gambling house was not as she remembered it, but then she had last seen it at night, and the darkness had hidden a multitude of sins.

  Violet rattled the door and after a moment it opened and she slipped inside. Averil stared after her, wondering what to do next, and then she noticed that whoever had let Violet in hadn’t latched the door properly behind her. It was slightly ajar.

  Invitingly so.

  She told herself she would be perfectly safe. She’d met Sally Jakes, and the woman had been a friend of her mother, why would she want to hurt Averil? But then she also remembered the fear in Violet’s eyes, and her secretiveness. Women had gone missing; one had died. Was it really a good idea to go inside, alone?

  But how could Averil not go in? She was fond of Viol
et, and there was something very wrong. She knew it. Sensed it. She must follow.

  She climbed the steps as if she had every right to be there, and pushed the door open. It creaked, but no one came to see who she was. Inside, the closest downstairs areas were empty, although she thought she could hear someone whistling in the far room, and the sound of water swishing followed by the slap of a mop on the floor. Averil looked up the stairs, where Sally’s office was situated.

  My dear young lady, you are beautifully formed, and far from being too fat, I find your proportions exactly to my taste.

  “Stop it!” she hissed, and then froze as the words reverberated about her. How could she remember his words so exactly, down to the timbre of his voice and the gleam in his dark eyes, and that wicked smile lurking on his lips? It wasn’t fair. She’d believed in him so completely and he had deceived her.

  But had he really? The mocking tone of her inner voice made her frown. I mean, you knew he had no money. Although he never actually came out and told you so, you knew. You thought he was too proud to tell you, and perhaps he was. But you knew.

  “That’s ridiculous,” she muttered, “now stop it.” She climbed the stairs to the landing, peering ahead down the corridor.

  Was that where Violet had gone? To Sally Jakes’s office? It seemed likely. Averil decided she would go and look, and if there was no one there then she would leave. Just one little look, just to be sure Violet was safe. There couldn’t be any harm in that, surely?

  It was quiet up there, until she reached Sally’s office. Again the door was slightly ajar but this time she didn’t want to go straight in. Not once she heard Jackson’s voice. But curiosity and a shaky sense of panic kept her standing there. Frozen. Listening.

  “Nah, they don’t have a clue,” Jackson sneered, and she could hear the creak of the chair he was sitting in. “No need to worry yet, Sal. Vi here doesn’t know what she’s talkin’ about.”

  “Not much I don’t!” It was Violet, and she sounded upset. “They know what you’re up to, or they soon will.”

  A silence.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Sally asked in a quiet, menacing voice that sent a chill down Averil’s spine.

  “You’d better not tell ’em,” Jackson said with equal menace. “If you tell ’em then Sally loses out. Don’t you, Sal? Just ’cause you’re her daughter, Vi, don’t mean you can do what you like.”

  “That’s enough, Jackson,” Sally spoke sharply. “Violet knows better than to talk out of turn. One day all of this will be ’ers. What girl wouldn’t like all the brass I can give ’er? She’s a lucky girl, is Vi.”

  “Who says I want it?” Violet’s voice trembled with bravado, but to Averil she simply sounded young and frightened.

  “You ungrateful little bitch,” Sally said softly. “I suppose we’re not good enough for you now, is that it? Stayin’ with lords and ladies, all lah-de-dah. Well, if you think you can sneer at your mother and all her ’ard work, think again. You’re not going back to that bloody ’ome. You’re finished with it and you can tell ’em so. From now on you’ll be working ’ere with me. ’Bout time you learned the business proper.”

  “No, please no! I want to stay there.” Violet was breathless; it sounded as if she was trying not to cry.

  Averil couldn’t bear to listen to any more. This was not right. Violet needed her help, and she meant to give it. She stepped forward and pushed the door open wide.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  * * *

  When Gareth opened the door to the Home, Rufus thought he looked thinner and more careworn than before. The smug, self-righteous fellow he’d previously found so obnoxious seemed to have packed his bags and left.

  “I don’t know if I should be talking to you, Lord Southbrook,” he said doubtfully, when they were together in the office. “I believe you and Averil have had a falling-out. The only reason I opened the door to you was because I still hope to receive your donation. Things are rather desperate at the moment.”

  Rufus waved an impatient hand. “Of course. And this isn’t about Averil. This is about what is happening right here under your nose.”

  Gareth hesitated and then gestured for Rufus to take a seat. “What do you mean?”

  Rufus sat down, removing his disreputable cap and tossing it onto the desk. “I followed Jackson to a brothel,” he said without preamble, “and after he left with Sally Jakes, I went inside and spoke to the woman he took there. Betty. One of your women, Doctor Simmons.”

  Gareth stared.

  “It seems that Jackson and Sally are in cahoots and have been for a while. Jackson finds you women for your Home, is that right? Women he says are in need of care? Well, the truth is, he brings the women here, for you to add a little polish to them, and then he either persuades them to leave or terrifies them into leaving. He and Sally then put the women into some of her posher houses, to cater for the more up-market gentlemen.”

  “Jackson and Sally Jakes?” Gareth repeated. He looked angry, a flush in his cheeks and his eyes glittering, and for the first time Rufus could see in him a similarity to Averil.

  “She owns a number of houses of ill repute, as well as The Tin Soldier,” Rufus went on.

  “I’ll call in the police,” Gareth said, and stood up, his hands clenched.

  Rufus smiled without humor. “She probably has any number of them in her pay, but I can give you a name you can trust.” He proceeded to give Gareth the name of one of the officers he’d worked closely with during his days with the Guardians.

  Gareth went out of the door but returned a moment later looking troubled. “Averil was here not long ago,” he said. “She was worried about Violet. Now both of them seem to have disappeared. Mrs. Claxton says she saw Violet leaving through the back, and then Averil following her. She says she heard Violet say earlier, to Molly, that she was going to The Tin Soldier. Do you think . . .?”

  Rufus jumped up. Violet, who knew more than she would say, and Averil, who was always trying to save people. He felt a hollow in his chest, a warning of danger that he had long ago learned never to ignore.

  “Would Averil go to The Tin Soldier on her own?” he asked sharply, and then thought how stupid the question was. Of course she would.

  “I don’t know. If she thought Violet was in danger she might. Averil is rather impulsive, Lord Southbrook, as you’re probably aware.”

  Rufus was already at the door. “Call on my policeman, and I’ll go and look for Averil. And hurry!”

  They were all there, the three of them, faces blank with shock as they turned toward her. Jackson was the first to recover. He gave a gruff chuckle and rose up from his chair. Beside him, Violet shrank in on herself, her eyes dropping to the floor and her pale hair falling over her face as if she wanted to hide behind it. Sally was the calmest, merely raising her eyebrows, and saying, “This is a private room, Lady Averil. It’s manners to make an appointment.”

  “I’ve come for Violet,” she said in her firmest voice, as if she expected nothing but obedience. “I need her at the Home immediately.”

  “She’s not yours to order about,” Sally snapped. “This is ’er ’ome, right ’ere. Just as it was your mother’s ’ome. You might come in ’ere with your ’oity-toity ways, but I know different, don’t I? You’re no better than me, Lady Averil, because your mother was no better than me. Got to the point that she’d do anything for a coin or two, Anna would.”

  Averil felt a sharp stab of pain in her heart at the picture this conjured up of her mother’s desperation.

  Sally seemed to know it and gave a satisfied smile.

  “Leave her alone.” Suddenly Violet was coming to her defense, placing herself between her mother and Averil. “She hasn’t done nothing to you. She’s my friend,” she blurted out, losing some of her carefully learned vocabulary.

  Sally’s mouth tightened. “Go downstairs, Violet,” she said in an impatient voice. “Put some of your ladylike ways to good use.”


  “No.” Violet lifted her chin defiantly. “I’m not. I’m going to tell them the truth. You can’t force me to keep quiet. You can’t force me to do anything anymore.”

  Sally’s face altered, her features tightening with bitterness and pain and something more that frightened Averil. “And do you think Lady Averil ’ere will look after you? You’re my daughter, stupid girl. No lady would want to be friends with the likes of us. Now do as you’re told.”

  Violet turned to look at Averil, her eyes wide and pleading, but before Averil could answer, she darted past her and out of the room, her footsteps clattering down the stairs.

  “Violet!” Averil called after her, and belatedly went to follow.

  Jackson caught her arm, his fingers digging painfully into her flesh. “Not so fast, my lady,” he said, and his ugly face twisted into a nasty smile. “We haven’t finished with you yet, have we, Sal?”

  Sally sauntered toward her, malice in her face. “If you think you’re just going to waltz off with my girl, then you’ve got another think coming,” she said. “Women go missing around ’ere, didn’t you know? Some of ’em are murdered. You shouldn’t go wandering around on your own. Never know what might ’appen.”

  Averil did her best not to show fear, refusing to drop her gaze or her chin, although inside she was quaking. “Let me go,” she said coldly. “I want to leave now and I’m taking Violet with me.”

  Jackson gave a snort of laughter. “What do you think, Sal? Is she leaving?”

  Slowly, Sally shook her head. “No,” she said quietly, “I don’t think she is.”

  He could hear their voices as he reached the top of the stairs. Averil sounded angry, but she also sounded scared. He broke into a run and reached the door of Sally’s office out of breath, just in time to see Jackson manhandling a struggling Averil, while Sally was watching on with a smile of cruel satisfaction.

  “Let her go, Jackson, or I’ll break your arms,” he growled.