Her eyes danced. ‘Actually, I found them rather informative.’
Jake’s eyebrows disappeared beneath his hairline. ‘Did you indeed?’
‘I cannot persuade myself that it is anatomically possible for two human bodies to contort themselves into such a position and…’ Her cheeks flooded with colour and she looked away from him. ‘And…well, you know.’
‘If I did not know better, Mrs Grantley,’ Jake replied with a wicked smile, running his fingers seductively down the length of hers, ‘I might think you had just thrown down the gauntlet. That is very thoughtless of you since you know how hard I find it to resist any challenge.’
‘Then it is fortunate that you know better.’ She tossed her head and pulled her hand from his grasp, looking unsettled; upset. ‘I am not sharing your bed, Lord Torbay, just because I happen to be here, if that is what you imagine. Nor shall I ever, not until we have concluded the conversation we started this morning.’
Jake’s expression sobered. ‘I hope you know me better than to suppose I intended any such thing.’
‘Yes.’ She exhaled slowly. ‘I apologise. I didn’t mean to insult you. Take no notice of me. I shall be myself again directly.’
‘I adore you, Olivia,’ he said in an ardent tone, taking both of her hands this time, willing her to believe him. ‘Even if you are convenient,’ he added lightly.
‘Oh you!’ She wrenched her hands free and laughed, more herself again.
‘That’s better. Besides,’ he added in a playful tone. ‘I happen to know the real reason for your reticence is that you do not wish to shock your maid.’
‘Hang my maid! What is she to do with it? Besides, she has the rest of the day off.’
Jake’s eyes came alight. ‘Does she indeed?’
‘She asked me this morning if she could change her afternoon off in order to help her curate with his bible readings for fallen women.’ Olivia grinned. ‘She probably wanted to suggest that I attend myself.’
Jake rolled his eyes. ‘Feel free to use one of the maids here to attend you.’
‘Thank you, but Jane is accustomed to looking after me in Molly’s absence.’
‘There again, I make an effective lady’s maid, so I am told.’
‘Always so modest, Lord Torbay.’
He affected surprise. ‘I have something to be modest about?’
The luncheon gong sounded, preventing Olivia from voicing the spirited response he did not doubt she was in the process of formulating.
‘Come,’ he said, standing and offering her his arm. ‘If you are contemplating sexual gymnastics then you need to keep your strength up.’
Olivia shook her head as she placed her hand on his sleeve. She tried to look disapproving but he could sense her fighting a smile as she left the room at his side.
Chapter Nine
Olivia and Jake spent the afternoon going through Marcus’s boxes. She was worried what other salacious documents she might find, not for her own sake but for Tom’s. If Marcus had been a blackmailer and that information became public knowledge, Tom would be tainted by association before his life had properly begun. It seemed so unfair!
‘I can do this alone,’ Jake said softly, happening to look up at the precise moment when Olivia was staring out of the window, biting her lower lip in her anxiety at that disturbing possibility.
‘Not at all. I was just taking a moment to reflect.’
‘Naturally you were.’ His smile, drenched in warmth, reassured her. ‘Whatever Marcus was or did, it will not reflect upon you,’ he said softly. ‘I will not allow it.’
How well he knows me and so accurately anticipates my thoughts. ‘Thank you, but I would still prefer to know.’
‘There are not many boxes left and thus far we have not found anything incriminating.’
‘True,’ Olivia replied, ‘but that doesn’t mean there’s nothing to find.’
She sighed and returned her attention to the next box. They sorted with swift efficiency, for the most part talking only when Jake needed her to clarify whether she wanted to retain a particular document. She became less and less particular in that respect.
‘I cannot see that negotiations between his father and an actor no one has ever heard of will be of any interest to Tom,’ she said, glancing at documents which Jake handed to her.
‘Then the fire is the best place for them,’ Jake replied, consigning them to the flames.
They stopped for tea after several hours of steady work.
‘Here is the copy of Marcus’s contract that I told you about earlier.’ Olivia passed the document to Jake and then stood with her hands on the small of her back, ineffectually attempting to dislodge the kinks that several hours of bending over stuffy papers had caused to accumulate there.
‘Thank you.’ Jake put the contract aside and stood also. He positioned himself behind her and placed his hands on her rigid shoulders, massaging her tight muscles until a slight sigh slipped past her lips and the tension in her tired joints miraculously faded away. She closed her eyes and rolled her head from side to side.
‘Hmm,’ she whispered.
‘You look more contented than Tabitha when she roasts herself in front of the fire.’ His voice was a velvety smooth whisper against her ear and made her shiver with desire.
‘Are you comparing me to a cat, Lord Torbay?’ Olivia thought she ought to be affronted by the suggestion, but that would require her to dislodge his hands in order to take umbrage, which was quite simply out of the question. Her eyes remained closed, his hands continued to work their magic and she resisted the urge to purr, thereby proving his point.
His deep laugh was imbued with a wealth of meaning. ‘I have a great fondness for felines of all persuasions. I admire their independence and lithe grace.’
‘But they also have claws,’ she reminded him. ‘Oh, that’s heavenly!’ She flexed her shoulders beneath his hands. ‘Don’t stop.’
‘Tabitha has never scratched me.’
‘Ah, but I am not as easily satisfied as Tabitha.’
Another throaty chuckle was his only response.
Olivia could stand those long, capable fingers untangling her knotted muscles all day, but the delivery of the tea trolley forced her to move away from Jake. He waited for her to reseat herself, then resumed his own chair and glanced through the contract she had just given him whilst she poured the tea. He looked totally in control of himself, relaxed and undisturbed by their brief moment of intimacy. She, on the other hand, felt oddly let down, incomplete and quite out of charity with her handsome companion for agitating her passions and then leaving her frustrated.
‘I am no lawyer,’ he said, ‘but even I can see that anyone wishing to extricate themselves from such a loosely worded contract would not have a great deal of difficulty in doing so.’
‘Then I wonder why none of them did.’ Olivia handed Jake a cup of tea. ‘We have not found any incriminating documents that would prevent them from so doing; if indeed Marcus employed blackmail in order to become their manager.’
‘Perhaps we have only found the documents pertaining to Lady Marchant because he had not used them.’
Olivia stirred her tea with more vigour than the simple ritual required; her body still humming with the aftereffects of Jake’s ministrations. ‘Possibly,’ she absently conceded.
‘Emily Black married at the height of her fame and then quit the stage when she became Lady Marchant.’ Jake selected a cake from the stand on the table between them and bit into it. ‘Was she managed by your husband when she was still acting?’
‘No, actually she was not.’
‘So those letters would have been no help to him at the time,’ Jake mused. ‘She was unmarried and the scandal attaching to an affair would not have damaged her reputation beyond recall—not would they have been sufficient to tempt her away from her existing manager, I would imagine. The letters would have shown your husband in a bad light though, if Emily defied his attempts at blackmail
and made them public herself.’
‘From the tone of their correspondence, and its inflammatory nature, I think they were genuinely fond of one another. Their passion would explain why she did not turn to Marcus for career advice and why Marcus did not use the letters to try and persuade her. Even so, he clearly anticipated that they might be of use to him one day, which is why he hid them away instead of returning them to her or destroying them, as any gentleman ought to have done.’
‘I am sorry you are involved in this distasteful business,’ Jake said, his voice soft, full of compassion.
‘Nonsense, Jake.’ She sat a little straighter and clicked her tongue. ‘I am fully conversant with the true character of the man I so foolishly married. I had personal evidence of Verity Aspin’s feelings for Marcus. In fact, she took pleasure in flaunting their affair in front of me, as though she had something to prove.’
‘I am willing to accept that Marcus’s physical charms might have persuaded Miss Aspin and Cecelia Fortescue to place themselves beneath his care in terms of their career advancement. We have written evidence that he also stirred Lady Marchant’s passions. But that does not explain why Michael Danton and other leading male actors stayed with him. Nor does it explain why they remain with Barber. The man is physically repellent.’
‘Ah, I see what you mean.’ Olivia tilted her head, annoyed to realise that she was trying to think of excuses for Marcus; not to salve her own pride but because she was still trying to protect her precious son from the knowledge that his father had made his fortune through such disrespectable means. ‘Presumably, Barber’s inherited stable of actors imagine he now holds whatever Marcus once did; information to their detriment.’
‘Yes, although he assures me that none have asked him about it, and I believe him. He seemed genuinely surprised by the question.’
‘You said he comes from a theatrical family himself. Perhaps he is a good actor.’
Jake lifted one impossibly broad shoulder. ‘Somehow I doubt if he is that good. In fact, he told me that he attempted acting but admits he was not good at it.’
‘They might have stayed with Marcus because he put money into some of Madame Céleste’s productions which, presumably, meant he had a say when it came to casting, I suppose,’ Olivia remarked reflectively.
‘Yes, but Barber is not a backer.’ Jake put his cup aside and stretched his arms above his head. ‘Unless we find Sir Hubert, I doubt we shall ever know.’
Olivia smiled. ‘Which will niggle away at you like a sore tooth. I know how much you dislike unsolved mysteries.’
He fixed her with an absorbed look. Olivia felt herself fall further under his compelling thrall as she noticed the manner in which his eyes glowed with passionate determination. ‘My primary…my only concern, is for your safety and peace of mind.’
‘Thank you, but I—’
‘Lord Warbeck’s here,’ Parker said, entering the room.
‘Hopefully he has news. Show him in, Parker.’
‘News of what, Jake?’
‘Simon was with me in Scotland, chasing after a rogue by the name of Barnard. He eluded us, but vocally expressed his determination to exact revenge against me in particular for putting a stop to his traitorous activities.’
Olivia widened her eyes. ‘And you think he might be in London, trying to get to you through my son. Surely that would be the height of stupidity? He would be better advised to leave these shores while he still can.’
Jake shrugged. ‘Barnard is an arrogant and very convincing man, which is how he got away with trading state secrets for so long. No one suspected him for a moment.’
‘Other than you?’
Jake grunted. ‘I have a suspicious nature.’
Simon Warbeck entered the room and offered Olivia a flamboyant bow. ‘I am sorry to hear that you have been troubled again,’ he said, ‘but at least I can put your mind at rest insofar as Barnard has not been seen anywhere in the capital.’
‘Are you absolutely sure about that?’ Jake asked curtly. ‘Sorry,’ he added in response to Simon’s wounded look, ‘but this is important.’
‘I’m as sure as I can be. I have had people checking all his usual haunts, offering generous rewards for valid information, and he has not been seen at any of them. I shall continue to keep watch, but my instincts tell me the rogue has taken to his heels.’
‘I am relieved to hear it,’ Jake replied. ‘Even so, he will return sooner rather than later, and we will be waiting when he does. I trust Simon’s judgement, Olivia,’ he added, turning to look directly at her, ‘and I think it safe to assume that he is not responsible for Tom’s gift.’
‘It is to do with Hubert’s disappearance; I am absolutely sure about that.’
‘Possibly,’ Simon replied, nodding his thanks as Olivia handed him his tea. ‘But it doesn’t do to jump to conclusions. Jake has an annoying habit of collecting enemies in the same way other men collect stamps.’
‘Jake’s enemies are not mine,’ Olivia replied.
Simon sent her a knowing smile that caused her to blush. ‘The people we go up against do not fight fair,’ he told her.
‘Thank you for taking such swift action, Simon,’ Jake said.
‘All part of the service.’
Simon finished his tea, stood up and took Olivia’s hand, kissing the back of it. ‘I shall continue to keep my ear to the ground,’ he assured her. ‘Doesn’t do to relax one’s guard.’
‘Thank you,’ Olivia replied.
Parker appeared in response to the bell and showed Simon out.
‘You should rest,’ Jake said to Olivia when they were alone again. ‘You look exhausted.’
‘If that is a polite way of telling me that I am not looking my best, then you could have saved your breath. I am well aware of it.’
‘The strain, the worry about Tom, is taking its toll.’ Jake glanced out the window. It was raining steadily. ‘There will be no walks in the park this afternoon.’
‘Where are you going?’ she asked, when he stood.
‘I think it might be a good time to call upon Madame Céleste at the Adelphi. I would imagine she will be there about now since I know there is an early performance of Much Ado About Nothing this evening.’
‘They have returned to safe ground with Shakespeare. No more of Madame’s avant-garde experiments.’
‘That is one of the questions I intend to ask Madame, if she will see me.’ Olivia smiled; well aware that few people declined to see the distinguished and respected Earl of Torbay, no matter how inconveniently timed his visit might be. He loomed over her, tall, dark and oh so enticing that Olivia wanted to pinch herself, convinced he must be a product of her imagination. No man who looked like an avenging Greek god could possibly have an abiding interest in a notorious woman of her ilk, could he? His lips briefly covered hers, silently confirming that he very likely could.
‘I shall be back in good time to dine with you,’ he said.
Olivia watched him go, thinking about the smouldering luminescence in his eyes as he reminded her that they would be dining alone. He kept an excellent chef but Olivia was perfectly sure it was not the prospect of a good dinner that was responsible for his anticipatory expression. Perhaps he was thinking of sating other appetites, aware that no disapproving maids would be on hand to spoil the mood on that particular evening.
All well and good, she thought, leaning her chin on her clenched fist, but she had already told him that she would not share her bed with him again until they had defined the precise nature of their relationship, had she not? And Olivia couldn’t trust herself to stick to that resolve if Jake took matters into his more than capable hands.
‘Mama, make it stop raining!’ Tom barged into the room, a mini whirlwind of righteous indignation. ‘I want to go to the park.’
‘We shall have to wait until tomorrow, I’m afraid,’ Olivia replied, smiling at Jane as she scooped her disappointed son onto her lap and smoothed his curls. ‘What would you like
to do instead?’
‘Ice cream. I would like lots and lots of ice cream.’
‘Well, if you have been a very good boy indeed, perhaps you shall have a small bowl in a moment.’
This promise did not produce the smile that Olivia had hoped for.
‘But I want a big bowl, Mama.’
Olivia laughed and fortunately Tom was distracted when Jane produced his hobby horse. Olivia feared for the welfare of Jake’s expensive furniture as her son enthusiastically rode his horse around the room, with no proper sense of direction. After a quarter of an hour, Jane took Tom’s hand, coaxing him from the room with the offer of the promised ice cream.
‘I shall need you to help me dress for dinner in Molly’s absence, Jane,’ Olivia said.
‘I assumed that you would, madam. Agnes is available to help with Master Tom if he has not settled by then.’
‘Thank you, Jane.’
Olivia was lucky to have Jane. She held Tom in genuine affection, valued her position and never gave a moment’s trouble—she was the perfectly discreet servant in all respects. Perhaps she would dismiss Molly, promote Jane to a permanent position as lady’s maid and find someone else to look after Tom. She would be more comfortable with that arrangement, Olivia decided as she took herself up to her chamber, and would give it serious consideration when the business with Hubert had been resolved.
҉
It was still raining hard when Jake’s carriage deposited him at the stage door to the Adelphi Theatre. He told his coachman to wait for him and made his way inside, where a porter asked him his business. His gruff attitude became more deferential when Jake gave his name and asked to see Madame Céleste.
‘She’s busy right now, m’lord. She don’t normally see no one this close to curtain time. Can I say what your business is?’
‘Financial support,’ Jake replied, having anticipated the question.
‘Very well. We’ll see, if you wouldn’t mind waiting.’
A lad was despatched into the bowels of the theatre to seek out Madame. He returned a short time later and asked Jake if he would follow him. He did, unsurprised that Madame Céleste was willing to see him without an appointment. Men of Jake’s ilk had proven to be the generous benefactors of theatres or, more frequently, of its leading actresses. Jake had discovered that since Marcus Grantley’s demise no one else had become a regular supporter of Madame Céleste’s productions. That, presumably, was what had forced her to limit her repertoire to safer, more established works.
With Good Grace (Victorian Vigilantes Book 3) Page 12
