He stopped her with a touch to the elbow. “No, let Toby Boy stay.” When he reached for the baby, Toby flashed a gaping smile and giggled low in his throat. Ben took care to hold him in his left arm to avoid the wet spot on his fine coat. “I will, however, accept your kind offer, Miss Thorne.”
She shook her head, smiling in spite of herself. “Why were you holding him overhead? Don’t you know a jostled baby is probably going to erupt like Mount Vesuvius?”
“I do now.” His crooked grin stole her breath. Why must he show good humor at a time like this? It only made him more appealing.
She turned away before he noticed the flush that must be stealing into her cheeks. “Find a place to sit and I will be back in a moment.”
One of the nurses directed her to a back room where she found a small pitcher of water, a basin, and extra cloths. With the supplies in hand, she returned to tend to Ben, but he and the baby were no longer in the nursery. She wandered into the empty corridor, wondering where the two could have gotten off to in the short time she had been gone.
A baby’s squeal echoed from the end of the passage and around the corner. Moving more slowly than normal so she wouldn’t spill, she headed toward the sound, a smile tugging at her lips. When Ben had arrived at Amelia’s town house earlier, Eve had believed his interest in the orphans was a trick to get close to her. Now she felt a little foolish for doubting his sincerity. And more than a touch arrogant for thinking she mattered enough that he would go to such trouble to see her.
When she rounded the corner, she could see Ben had located a wooden bench in front of a large window at the end of another corridor. He wasn’t sitting, but rather pointing out things to Toby beyond the window and talking to him as if he were an adult and could understand him.
She cleared her throat to get his attention, not wanting to startle him. Ben had another smile for her. “You left the nursery,” she said as her knees knocked together.
“You told me to find a place to sit.”
“I meant in the nursery.” Where there were others and she wouldn’t be forced to be alone with him.
He shrugged and lowered to the bench, sitting the baby on his knee. “Thank you for coming to my rescue.”
She rolled her eyes as she placed the basin and pitcher on the bench beside him. “This is hardly a life-threatening event.” Maintaining an air of efficiency, she poured water into the basin, wet the cloth and wrung out the excess water, then held it out to him. Ben’s eyebrows lifted.
“My hands are not free, Miss Thorne. Will you do the honors?”
Her eyes narrowed when he offered her another charming smile. She might have fallen for his handsome looks once, but she was a lot wiser now. I am. Despite her claim, she moved to stand between his thighs and touched the cloth to his cheek. Surely her heart was pounding loud enough for him to hear.
Pretending he didn’t send her mind and body into a spin, she dragged the cloth down to his chin and quickly scrubbed his lips, nose, and jaw.
He winced. “Not so rough.”
She pursed her lips. Perhaps she was being less careful than she might be with someone else, but he needed to be convinced she felt nothing for him. Or she needed to convince herself.
The baby arched his back and craned his neck toward the window. “You want to see outside, don’t you, Toby Boy?” Ben tucked him over his shoulder, eliciting more happy coos from Toby.
Eve returned her attention to wetting the cloth and wringing out the water. “I never realized you had a fondness for children.”
“Is that true? I thought we had discussed having several.” If his voice held even a hint of teasing, she would have marched away, but he seemed genuinely surprised by her assumption.
“I discussed wanting several.” She still wouldn’t look at him while she set to work on the stain on his cravat, scrubbing it even harder than she had his face. “I have always loved children. When I was a girl, I dreamed of having a big family. I love my brother dearly and I would never trade him for a dozen siblings, but I always wondered what it would be like to have more than one.”
“Noisy and annoying.”
She wrinkled her nose.
“But also reassuring,” he said, his voice taking on a softer tone. “Imagine if you had four siblings just like your brother, always ready to tell you what to do or defend you.”
She hazarded a glance at his face, and the sincerity she saw in his smoky blue eyes chipped at the wall between them a little more. This was a bad development. The wall was in place for a reason.
A strand of hair slipped from her coiffure as she returned to vigorously scrubbing his clothing. He reached to tuck it behind her ear. She jumped, shocked by the intimacy of his touch. His hand fell to his lap, and she took a step back for fear she wouldn’t have it in her to discourage him if he touched her again.
“I wanted everything you wanted, Evie. I still do. A large family of our own. A home in the country… I want you.”
Her heart leaped into her throat and she wasn’t sure she could speak. She shook her head.
“Yes.” His voice sounded hoarse. “I came back for you.”
Who did he think he was to waltz back into her life—after she had given up on him ever returning—and claim he had come back for her? She dropped the cloth in the bowl, splattering water on the bench and floor. “You are two years too late, Ben.”
He captured her hand before she could leave. “I came back for you the day of our wedding. I tried to see you at your brother’s town house.” His eyes had darkened, and she didn’t know how to read his expression. “I encountered your brother on the street before I could reach you.”
Eve’s breath caught. Sebastian had seen Ben? Her brother had led her to believe Ben had run without looking back. “No, Bastian would have told me if he had spoken with you. You are lying.”
Ben’s jaw muscles twitched, a red flush invading his face. “Ask him yourself, Eve. Your brother refused to allow me to speak with you, even though I told him I was desperate to marry you. We still could have sent for the vicar. Thorne swore I would never see you again, then he called me out. And I wanted to meet him on that field. Nothing was going to keep me from you, especially not your damned brother.”
Now she was certain he lied. She jerked her hand free. “There was no duel.”
“No, there wasn’t.” He met her gaze, his unwavering, pleading with her to believe him. “I realized no matter what happened, I would lose you. Either I would die or I would kill the brother you love.”
The gravity of such a loss slammed into her. Nausea welled up inside her, leaving a sickening taste in her mouth.
He reached for her again, but she backed away.
“I chose the least destructive path, Evie. At least I thought the damage would be minimal compared to the loss of life. I never anticipated you would be treated as you have been, and I am wracked with guilt.”
His admission rang with truth, but she didn’t want to believe him. If she had misjudged him… Her hand covered her mouth as her vision blurred. Good God. If she had misjudged him, she had given up too soon.
And now it truly was too late, for she had given her word to marry Jonathan. She could never inflict pain on him—or anyone—like she had experienced. Even if she wanted, she couldn’t go back.
“Ben.” Her voice broke on a soft cry. “I am betrothed,” she choked out before spinning around and running from him this time.
Seven
Ben’s younger brother dropped into a leather chair in front of Ben’s desk without waiting for an invitation. Since Ben had already overlooked Daniel’s unscheduled arrival at his Cavendish Square town house—not to mention his brother barging into his study unannounced and helping himself to a brandy—he held his tongue. Complaining would prove a waste of time, for Daniel rarely worried about inconveniencing anyone. And his brother’s sudden ap
pearance now was damned inconvenient.
Ben checked the mantel clock and sighed, replacing his quill and abandoning his ledger. His next appointment would arrive in a quarter hour, and he didn’t need his brother bumping into Mr. Armstrong and Viscount Margrave on his way out. There wasn’t much time to get to the heart of the matter, then send his brother home.
Daniel scowled at the contents in his glass; his ankle was propped across his knee. Only one thing could bring about a surly mood like this: a problem with Hillary Shipping. What could it be this time? A squeaky hinge on the shipping office door? A loose shingle on the roof? Ben had never met a more obsessive man, and although Daniel’s fastidiousness had helped to make their joint shipping company successful, it could become tedious.
Ben drummed his fingers against his cherry wood desk. “Tell me the bad news, so we can sort through it. Quickly.”
With only thirteen months separating them, the two had been figuring things out together since they were both old enough to walk and talk.
“I don’t think we will be sorting this one. Lisette has charged me with inviting you to dine with us this week. She is planning a small dinner party tomorrow evening.”
“Egads!” Ben chuckled.
His brother was correct. There would be no escaping this one, although Ben didn’t greet the invitation with the same dread Daniel would have if the situation were reversed. Ben liked Lisette and her kin, and socializing had never been the same hardship to him that it was for his brother. Daniel abhorred playing the gentleman, preferring the simple life of a seaman, but he was a husband now. And his willingness to play host at his wife’s behest was a testament to how much he loved Lisette.
“You may tell your wife I accept.”
“Very good.” Daniel seemed to have no control over his jiggling foot. “Family is to arrive an hour before dinner. She wants to see everyone before we retire to Brighton for the winter.”
If his brother couldn’t live on the sea, he could at least be close enough to enjoy the salty breeze and never-ending crash of waves on the shore. Their father’s Brighton house would be the only property to suit Daniel for a long stay.
“I see.” Ben tried to control the twitching of his lips. “A tiny sailor is on the way, aye?”
“How did—?” Daniel’s gaze snapped up, his blue eyes dancing with undisguised pleasure. He laughed. “I swear to God, if you speak a word to anyone, I will break your nose. No ruining her surprise.”
Ben laughed too as he pushed away from the desk to come around to congratulate his brother. “I would not dream of stealing her thunder. Congratulations. Fatherhood suits you, I think.”
Daniel had been a father figure to Lisette’s younger brother for some time, so he’d already gotten a taste of what the job entailed. Daniel rose to accept his hearty handshake before they gathered each other in a rough hug. They were still pounding on each other’s shoulders when Ben’s man of business appeared in the doorway.
Mr. Davis adjusted his spectacles and cleared his throat. Ben bid him to come in. “Pardon the interruption, sir, but Lord Margrave has arrived with Mr. Armstrong.”
Daniel’s eyebrows shot up. “Harvey Armstrong, the Bow Street Runner? Why do you require the services of an investigator?”
So much for no one outside of his trusted staff knowing his business.
Ben inclined his head toward his man. “Allow me a few moments with my brother, then you may show them in.”
“Yes, sir.”
After the outing to the foundling hospital, Ben felt defeated. Eve was marrying another man, and he could do nothing about it. How could she possibly know enough about Sir Jonathan Hackberry to know she wanted to marry him? He’d only been courting her a few weeks. And then Ben had gotten an idea, one he didn’t want his brother knowing about. Moving to pour himself a drink, he tried to deflect his brother’s questions. “How is it you are familiar with Mr. Armstrong?”
“I hired him to locate a missing person. Lisette’s cousin, Xavier Vistorie.”
Ben swung back around, his interest piqued. “And did the man find him?”
“Hell no. It’s as if the earth opened up and swallowed Vistorie whole. Odd business, that.”
“Oh.” That didn’t inspire confidence. Ben wandered back to his desk and perched on the edge. “How difficult could it be to uncover a bloody American in Mayfair? He would be as conspicuous as a boar dressed in Sunday best.”
Daniel smirked. “Are you referring to Vicar Dowden?”
“And everyone says you are not clever,” Ben drawled. “Tell me, do you think Armstrong is a competent sort, or have I wasted my money?”
“Assuming you haven’t misplaced a person, it should be money well spent. I hired Armstrong because of his reputation for getting results.” Daniel sipped his drink. “Nice attempt to distract me, but I haven’t forgotten my original question. Why do you need an investigator, and how did you hear of him?”
Heat crept into Ben’s face. It was none of his brother’s concern, but Daniel wouldn’t cease his badgering until he got an answer. “Margrave recommended him. If you wish to know of my dealings with Armstrong, you are welcome to stay. It could be a long interview, however, so if you have other matters requiring your attention—”
“Very well.” Daniel sank back in the chair with a sly smile.
Damn! Ben had been certain his brother would lose interest if it meant sitting through an interview. Daniel was a restless man and not one to voluntarily sit still.
“Splendid,” Ben grumbled as his office door swung open and Margrave appeared with Mr. Armstrong in his wake.
While Ben’s old chum ambled in without an invitation and made his way to the sideboard to pour a drink, the investigator halted at the threshold.
“Come in, Mr. Armstrong,” Ben said. “Have a seat.”
The man moved with efficiency and assurance, nodded an acknowledgment to Daniel, and sat in the twin chair in front of Ben’s desk. There was nothing extraordinary in the investigator’s appearance. He wore a functional gray coat, trousers, and beat-up black boots. Mr. Armstrong looked like any man one might pass in the street, which likely accounted for his vaunted reputation as one of the best. And yet he couldn’t find the American?
Margrave returned with a drink in hand and positioned himself behind Armstrong’s chair.
Ben launched into the reason for the investigator’s visit. It seemed wisest to get it behind him, like diving into a cold lake without stopping to consider how uncomfortable it would be. “What have you learned?”
Armstrong pulled a paper square from his jacket pocket and unfolded it. “As requested, an accounting of Sir Jonathan Hackberry’s activities over the past twenty-four hours.”
Daniel uncrossed his leg, his boot landing on the wooden floor with a thump. “You had Miss Thorne’s betrothed followed?”
Ben ignored him, easing forward to catch every word, and motioned Armstrong to continue. He detected the hint of a smirk on Margrave’s face.
“At one o’clock yesterday, Hackberry left his town house en route to the lending library where he spent two hours and thirty-five minutes browsing. He purchased two books: one on Ancient Egypt and Travels to Discover the Source of the Nile, In the Years 1768, 1769, 1770, 1771, 1772, and 1773, volume two. After his departure from the lending library, he visited the hatter to commission a top hat, but he couldn’t decide between black and dark gray. When the shopkeeper suggested he choose both, Hackberry said perhaps he would make a decision after he thought on it a day. Next he made a visit to the glove maker, where he debated the merits of two pairs of riding gloves versus three. From there—”
“Argh!” Daniel groaned loudly and dropped his head back on the seat.
Ben chuckled. “Is there a less boring account of the man’s comings and goings? For my brother’s sake, of course.” Although, in truth, Ben wasn’t
any more interested in Hackberry’s shopping excursion than his brother was.
Armstrong’s eyebrow twitched, but otherwise his stony expression wasn’t altered. “No, sir.”
“No?” Ben pushed from the desk to pace a few steps, then turned to point. “No, as in you are disinclined to deliver your report with more flair, or Hackberry’s activities remain mundane and uninteresting?”
“Both statements are correct, sir.”
That can’t be. Every man had his secrets, a touch of darkness lurking inside. Ben held out his hand for the paper, then wiggled his fingers impatiently when the investigator didn’t comply at once. “Let me see. Surely Hackberry cannot be that pedestrian.”
Margrave shrugged one shoulder when Ben looked to him to support his assertion. “I’m not acquainted with the man.”
Armstrong passed him the paper and sat stiff-backed on the chair. “I am afraid you are mistaken about the gentleman’s tediousness, Mr. Hillary.”
Ben read the list aloud. “The printer, reading room in Bloomsbury—” He dropped his arm to his side. “What does this mean? Hackberry went missing for an hour?”
The investigator shrugged. “Sir Jonathan took a wrong turn and accidentally locked himself in the museum storage room. When he was discovered among the cataloged exhibits, he stuttered an apology and bumped into a miniature porcelain bowl that shattered on the floor.”
Daniel laughed and shook his head before downing his drink.
“I am certain the museum librarian was not amused,” Ben said by way of scolding his brother.
“He was not,” Armstrong confirmed. “Nevertheless, the bowl was of no value, so Sir Jonathan was only escorted from the premises by two porters instead of being taken into custody.”
“Egads.” Ben thrust the list back at Armstrong. There was nothing remotely debauched in his report. Hackberry had even retired early on the day in question. “You may go. Mr. Davis will see to your fee on your way out.”
“Yes, sir.” The man tucked the paper back into his pocket and left as somberly as he’d arrived.
Best of Both Rogues Page 6
