by Laura Landon
With an uncomfortable realization, Winnie knew the only orders Hodgekens would likely listen to tonight were orders that came from Nick Stillman. Because he was one of Mack Wallace’s brigadesmen, Hodgekens trusted him implicitly. Because Nick Stillman had been so angry when he’d followed her from The Dove, Hodgekens no doubt knew Winnie had done something the brigadesman didn’t approve of. And Hodgekens was willing to let Nick Stillman berate her so Hodgekens didn’t have to.
Winnie waited. She wasn’t going to be the first to speak. The only words she wanted to utter were to tell him she wanted to go home. Except at this stage of their discussion, that would seem like capitulation. And she wasn’t quite ready to admit wrongdoing, even though Hodgekens would say she’d been wrong. Finally, he spoke.
“I want your word that you will never go back to The Dove, Lady Winnifred.”
She shook her head. She couldn’t promise him that. She could promise that she’d be a smarter player. That she would make sure she was well rested before she went back so she didn’t play like a novice. And she would promise that she would never wager more than she could cover. But she couldn’t promise not to go back.
She needed the money she won at The Dove to pay for her mother’s keep at Saint Christina’s Hospital. She needed winnings from the tables to pay the blackmailer’s demands. And now she needed even more money to pay additional guards to make sure her mother didn’t escape from Saint Christina’s.
She looked at him, and opened her mouth to tell him she couldn’t agree. But before she could say her first word, he spoke.
“If you don’t agree to stay away from The Dove, I swear I’ll go to your father. I’ll tell him what you’re doing and you can worry about how you’re going to explain the reason you need to go there.”
“You can’t,” she said in a weak voice.
“Oh, I can. And I will. You can bet every pound you have on that, my lady.
Winnie felt the blood drain from her head. What was she going to do? How was she going to pay for her mother to remain at Saint Christina’s? How was she going to pay her blackmailer? Or additional guards? She’d be left with no choice but to tell her father that her mother wasn’t dead like everyone thought.
What was the possibility that any of them could survive the scandal? Her father would be ruined, his advice and influence no longer valued.
Ben and Rachael would never be allowed to show their faces in London Society again.
Gideon’s twin sons, one of them the future Duke of Townsend, would hold the title, but it wouldn’t be a title he wanted, or was proud to possess.
And then there was Anne. What kind of future would Anne have if Society discovered that their mother was a murderer? How much happiness would Anne be left with if she lost the Earl of Montroy’s love?
No, her father could never know that his wife was still alive. Somehow, Winnie would have to find another way to get the money she needed.
“Very well,” she said, unable to hide her anger. The choice he was forcing her to make was unbearable.
“Very well, what?” he said.
“Very well, you do not have to worry about me returning to The Dove.”
“Your word?”
“Yes, you have my word.” Winnie sat back against the velvet squab, and crossed her arms over her chest. “Now, if you’re finished berating me, I’d like to go home.”
Nick Stillman tapped on the roof of the carriage, then leaned toward the open window. “You can take the lady home now, Hodgekens,” he said, then sat back to face her. “One more question, my lady,” he said, keeping his eyes focused on her as if he could see through her. “Where is she? Where have you taken her?”
Winnie feigned ignorance. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Stillman.”
“Oh, you know. Just as I know that your obsession with gambling has nothing to do with the game, but with amassing all the money you can from winning. Money you need to keep your mother where you’ve put her.” He paused. “Or is there another reason you need your winnings?”
Winnie dropped her hands to her lap and turned her head. She couldn’t allow him to see the fear she knew was evident in her eyes.
“You can’t handle this alone,” he said, reaching for her hands and holding them. “This is too dangerous.”
Charges of emotion tingled through her, traveling from the spot where his hand covered hers, up her arms, then raging a war inside her breast. From there the stirrings plummeted deep in her stomach, then even lower to a place to which Winnie couldn’t put a name. A place she’d never known could harbor such sensations.
“I’m in no danger, Mr. Stillman,” she finally managed to say. Except her voice didn’t sound as forceful as she’d intended, and the words came out raspy with a breath she couldn’t control. “Except from you.”
A slow, lazy smile changed his features, and Winnie realized how true her words were. This wasn’t the first time she’d realized he was a danger to her. Not a physical danger. But a danger to her emotions.
The carriage slowed, then turned into the alley behind her father’s town house. When it stopped, Nick Stillman jumped to the ground and turned to help her down.
His hand reached out to her and she hesitated before she took it. Even though both hands were gloved, she knew this time the response would be more intense.
The smile on his face broadened.
Winnie forced herself to take his hand as if the contact wouldn’t send rivers of molten lava racing through her.
But it did. The contact was like the heat from a raging fire.
Winnie stepped down on legs that trembled beneath her, but when her feet touched the ground, he didn’t move back so she could step around him. Instead, he stood his ground and forced her to stand so close to him that she could feel the heat from his body.
Slowly, his hand lifted, and the backs of his fingers skimmed her cheek. His gaze locked with hers and he refused to free her.
Spikes of emotion shot to every part of her. Her heart raced in her breast. Her blood pounded in her ears. A steady strumming sound echoed in her head. She’d never felt like this before. Never felt such a lack of control. Never experienced anything quite this powerful.
She breathed several rapid breaths. The air rushed from her lungs. Her mind screamed for him to step away from her, but he didn’t. And instead of finding the courage to push him away, her body wanted to move closer. She wanted to close the space that separated them, and press her body to his.
She prayed he didn’t know the thoughts that were waging war inside her, but the furrows that deepened across his forehead told her he read her mind as if every thought she’d battled had been exposed and made available for his perusal.
“I think you are correct, my lady,” he said in a voice that was a low, threatening whisper. “I believe I might be a danger to you. Just as you are a danger to me.”
His knuckles softy skimmed her cheek again, then he dropped his hand and stepped back to let her pass.
Winnie moved around him and walked to the kitchen door on legs that trembled beneath her. She stumbled into the safety of the warm, secure kitchen, and pressed her back against the closed wooden door.
Going to The Dove was dangerous, but it was a risk she had to take to avoid a scandal from which her family would never recover.
Allowing Nick Stillman anywhere near her was equally as risky. Because this risk had far more dire consequences. Because it wasn’t only her reputation she might lose.
But her heart.
CHAPTER 6
Nick climbed the steps that led to his uncle’s townhouse and knocked. He was long overdue from his promise to visit Lord and Lady Rummery, but the urgent message he’d received that morning prompted him to drop everything and make time to call on them.
It had been three months since his cousin’s best friend, Jenny Belden, had died. Perhaps his aunt and uncle finally realized that their daughter wasn’t handling her friend’s death as wel
l as she pretended to. Perhaps the hints he’d made for them to pay closer attention to Lizzy had done some good.
Lord Rummery’s butler answered the door and showed Nick to a room.
“Nick,” his uncle said when he entered the blue salon where Nick had been shown. “I’m so glad to see you. Lady Rummery will be, too. She just remarked this morning that it had been an age since you’ve dropped by.”
“I wanted to come earlier, but I’ve been busy.”
“I know,” Lord Rummery said, stepping to a table with several decanters on it and pouring brandy into two glasses. “I get regular updates on how in demand Wallace’s brigadesmen are, and what an excellent job you’re doing. Were you one of the brigadesmen involved in the First National robbery?”
Nick took the glass his uncle offered him and sat in the chair opposite him. “Yes,” he said when he was seated. “Although I wasn’t the only one tracking the thieves. There were several of us.”
“Not several, according to the papers. There were only three of you, but the reports never mention any names. And it took you less than twenty-four hours to figure out the identity of the thieves, as well as where they were hiding. Brilliant work, Nick. Brilliant.”
Nick couldn’t help but smile. Apprehending the thieves wasn’t really all that brilliant. The four men who’d robbed the exchange weren’t the most intelligent thieves they’d ever encountered. They left enough clues that his uncle could have found them.
“But that’s not what I want to talk to you about,” Lord Rummery said.
Nick waited. He would let his uncle say what he intended in his own time.
“Actually, there are two reasons I wanted to speak to you.” Lord Rummery took a sip of his brandy, then set the glass down on the table beside him. “I’d like to hire you, Nick.”
Nick raised his eyebrows in question.
“As you probably remember from the other night, I mentioned a business venture I’m considering. It involves the purchase of several clipper ships to bring tea from China at speeds unheard of before.”
Nick nodded. “I’ve heard nothing but sterling reports concerning the speed that clippers can sail from the East to England. Are you concerned about the company building the ships?”
His uncle shook his head. “Alexander Hall and Sons of Aberdeen is building the ships. No one builds finer clippers than James and William Hall.”
“Then what do you want me to investigate?”
“This needs to remain private,” Lord Rummery said.
Nick gave his uncle a sharp nod. “You have my word.”
“I need you to check out the other investors. There are four of us, and we are all required to put in a massive sum. We’ll double our investment after the ship makes its first run. Perhaps even triple it. Or, we could lose our investment if tragedy strikes, and the ship’s lost during its maiden voyage. Fire and weather are always concerns.”
Lord Rummery reached for his glass of brandy and took another swallow. “I’m willing to take that risk. What I can’t afford, is for one of the investors to be unable to meet their obligation at the last minute, and the three remaining investors having to come up with more money. That would destroy me.”
Nick looked at the serious expression on his uncle’s face and saw how important this was to him. “Who are the other investors?”
“The Duke of Townsend, who I believe you know. And I’m not concerned with him, although I wouldn’t mind being reassured. Then there’s the Viscount Bainburn, Viscount Cavenaugh, and the Earl of Sundhern.”
Nick sat back in his chair. “I’ll see what I can discover.”
“Thank you, Nick. I can’t tell you how much this means to me. Especially with everything else that’s happening right now.”
“Does this have something to do with Lizzy?” Nick asked, knowing that if they’d already covered any money concerns his uncle might have, his daughter was the only person who could cause such worry to show in his eyes.
“Have you heard anything about Elizabeth?”
“No, but your expression tells me that this is about her.”
Lord Rummery breathed a heavy sigh. “I’ll wait until your aunt joins us to tell you what’s happened.”
They didn’t have long to wait before his aunt, Lady Rummery, entered. One look at her pale features told Nick this was indeed bad.
“Oh, Nicholas,” she cried, rushing toward him. “I’m so glad you’re here.” His aunt, who was usually so proper and reserved, latched onto him as if he was her safe harbor in a storm. She turned to her husband. “Have you told him, Walter?”
“Not yet, Edith. We were waiting for you.”
“Why don’t we sit, my lady,” Nick said, leading his aunt to the sofa. “Then you can explain what this is all about.”
Nick sat beside his aunt and reached for her hands. They trembled in his grasp.
“It’s Elizabeth,” Lord Rummery said. “She left sometime during the night and hasn’t returned home yet.”
Nick’s heart began a steady racing in his chest. “When did you notice her gone?”
“Her maid woke us early this morning when she noticed Elizabeth wasn’t in her room.”
“Did she leave a note saying where she was going?”
Lady Rummery shook her head, then reached for a handkerchief and dabbed at the tears spilling from her eyes. “Nothing. It’s as if she vanished. What if something’s happened to her, just like her friend Lady Jennifer Belden?”
“Don’t think that, Edith. It will only upset you more.”
Nick wasn’t sure how much more upset Lady Rummery could get. Even the pain in his uncle’s eyes wrenched Nick’s heart.
“Are any of Lizzy’s clothes gone?”
Lady Rummery shook her head. “The only piece missing is her cloak.”
“How about money? Did she take her pin money with her?”
“She must have. She took her reticule.”
“She asked me for next quarter’s allowance yesterday afternoon,” Lord Rummery added. “I assume she has that, too.”
“Is she still friends with Lady Amy Warren, and Miss Paula Bickford?”
Lady Rummery nodded. “They seem even closer since Jenny’s death. They’re together constantly.”
“One more question,” Nick said. “What event were you planning to attend tonight?”
“The Buntingdon ball. But we can hardly go out now.”
“Yes, you can. You need to appear happy and carefree, as if nothing is wrong. And if anyone asks where Elizabeth is, tell them that she wasn’t feeling well and stayed home.”
“Do you think you know where she is?” Lord Rummery asked.
“Possibly. But I’ll have to be discrete. We don’t want anyone to know Lizzy’s missing yet, in case she’s simply done something foolish and is afraid to face you.”
“I don’t care what she’s done, Nicholas,” Lady Rummery said as more tears spilled from her eyes. “I just want her to come home.”
“I know, my lady.” Nick squeezed his aunt’s hands, then rose. “I won’t know anything until tonight, but I’ll bring her home the minute I find her.”
“Thank you, Nicholas,” Lord and Lady Rummery said.
Nick walked from the room, then out the door. When he reached the street in front of his uncle’s townhouse, his heart weighed heavier than he thought he could stand.
Every instinct he possessed told him Lizzy’s disappearance had something to do with The Soiled Dove. The place drew innocent females like bees to honey. His first reaction was anger. Hadn’t Lizzy and her friends learned from what happened to Jenny Belden?
His next reaction was fury. How many more lives would The Dove ruin before he could shut them down?
. . .
Winnie made her way through the crush at the Buntingdon ball. She wanted to make herself invisible, and the only place she knew to go was outside on the terrace. If she was lucky, no one would find her there. Especially more of Lord Montroy’s friends.
Winnie couldn’t stand to be the object of Anne’s matchmaking any longer. She needed to escape.
She made her way to the open French doors on the far side of the room and stepped through the opening. The air was warm and fresh. When Winnie walked to a secluded corner of the terrace, she leaned her hands against the railing and breathed a sigh of relief. She only had to endure this one Season and she wouldn’t have to return next year. She only had to wait for the Earl of Montroy to speak with her father, and Anne would be safely married.
Then, perhaps she would hire Mack Wallace to discover who was blackmailing her and make them stop. And by then she would be twenty-one, and would have the trust her grandmother left her. That would be enough to keep her mother at Saint Christina’s forever.
Winnie closed her eyes and thought how simple her life would be then, compared to how complicated it was now.
For the first time since she’d decided to let the world believe that her mother was dead, the weight of that decision was almost more than she could bear. For the first time since she’d discovered the horrific things her mother had done, tears that she’d held at bay threatened to surface.
She wrapped her arms around her middle and lifted her gaze to the star-filled heavens, hoping that the wetness that filled her eyes wouldn’t spill down her cheeks. But her attempt was futile, and the first tear spilled over her lashes and streamed down her face. She brushed it away, but stopping them was useless. Another followed. Then another.
Winnie didn’t hear anyone approach her, but silently, a hand reached around her and offered her a pristine white, folded handkerchief.
She took it and dabbed away the proof of her tears. “Thank you,” she said. “I seem to have gotten something in my eye.”
