Loving the Hawke (The Seven Curses of London Book 1)

by Williams, Lana

  Tristan reached over the top of him and picked up the book. “The Seven Curses of London. Only seven? I would’ve thought our fair city would have a great many more.”

  “I’m sure none of them would interest you, regardless of the number.”

  Tristan looked at him blandly. “I believe you judge me and find me lacking, dear brother.” He opened the book. “Chapter one. Neglected children.” He read silently for a few moments before glancing at Nathaniel. “Do you believe this information to be true?”

  “I know it is. I’ve seen it for myself.”

  His brother raised his brow, obviously taken aback. “Explain.”

  “Playing the lord today?” He’d said the one word with no doubt, as though he expected action with his order. It was a reminder how similar he was to their father. At Tristan’s frown, Nathaniel offered, “I’ve spent a few sleepless nights walking. Sometimes those walks take me into areas I wouldn’t have otherwise ventured.”

  “Such as?”

  “Whitechapel, for one.”

  “What on earth would cause you to wander that way?” Tristan gave a mock shudder. “In the dead of night, no less.”

  “I don’t know if I mentioned the scheme that one of Warenton’s ships was being used for?”

  “Marcus de Wolfe, the Earl of Warenton?”

  Nathaniel nodded. “We’ve remained friends since our days at university together. He discovered cargo was being smuggled aboard his ship. Upon investigating, he realized his vessel was being used to haul young girls to Brussels for their brothels.”

  “You can’t be serious.” Tristan appeared incredulous.

  “Surely you’ve read about the white slave trade in the papers.”

  “In truth, I don’t normally pay attention to those sort of articles. It always seems as if they exaggerate the problem.”

  “In this case, they’re not. I assisted him with part of the problem, but later we discovered a large group of men are involved.” Nathaniel nodded to the book. “Warenton is the one who sent me that book.”

  “How interesting.” Tristan turned a few more pages, glancing through it. “I might have to purchase a copy of this for myself.”

  Nathaniel couldn’t have been more shocked.

  Tristan looked up from the pages at Nathaniel’s lack of response and noted his expression. “Why so surprised? Of course I care about what’s happening in our city. Why wouldn’t I?”

  “I suppose I didn’t think you would find it of interest.”

  Tristan scowled, his eyes going cold. “You mean because Father wouldn’t have?”

  Nathaniel decided it best not to respond.

  “I am not his mirror image, you know.” Tristan closed the book with a thump. “I should allow you to rest. Wouldn’t want to tire my hero of a brother.”

  “I’m no hero,” Nathaniel protested, uncomfortable at the term.

  “It’s an indisputable fact. There is written proof that you are. I believe Dibbles saved every newspaper article that lauded your efforts. I’m told you earned various medals as well.”

  Now it was Nathaniel’s turn to scowl. He didn’t care to be reminded of the honors he’d received. Those didn’t change the belief he had of himself, the one tucked away in the depths of his soul.

  “I will check on you again on the morrow, shall I? Perhaps we can continue this enlivening conversation.” Tristan returned the book to the bed then gave a wave as he walked out the door and closed it behind him.

  Still avoiding the laudanum, Nathaniel reached for the decanter of brandy and glass Dibbles had left for him, pouring himself a generous drink.

  It wasn’t only his leg that hurt.

  He wished the brandy better helped either pain.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “It is only necessary to point to the large number of such children, for they are no better, who annually swell our criminal lists, to prove that somewhere a screw is sadly loose, and that the sooner it is set right the better it will be for the nation.

  ~ The Seven Curses of London

  Culbert Rutter swallowed hard as he prepared to give the bad news to his boss, Jasper Smithby. He was almost grateful for the knot on his forehead. Surely it would show Smithby he’d done all he could to stop the bloke.

  “What’s eating you, Culbert?” Smithby asked as he shoved forkfuls of sausage into his large mouth. “Did someone die?” He paused with his meal to peer closer. “What happened to your head?”

  “I fear I have bad news.”

  “Oh?” Smithby’s tone held a warning note Culbert desperately wished he could heed, yet he had no choice but to continue, all too aware how angry his boss would be.

  “We lost two of the girls last night.”

  “Which girls?”

  Culbert braced himself. “The newest, young ones we took yesterday morn.”

  “Lost them? How?”

  “Some bloke broke into the brothel, made his way to the upper level, and took them.” Culbert looked down at the new hat he held to avoid seeing the rage in Smithby’s cold blue eyes.

  “Where were the guards?”

  “He knocked several unconscious and injured others.” He dearly wanted to point to his head to make it clear he was one of those.

  “One man did all that?” Smithby appeared doubtful that he spoke the truth.

  Culbert nodded, still having difficulty believing it himself.

  “Who the hell is he?” Spittle and bits of sausage came out with his anger.

  “I didn’t get his name.” Culbert frowned. He’d thought long and hard on the way here about whether to share the full truth. That Hawke was the same man who’d helped to bring their lucrative trips to Brussels to a halt. Based on Smithby’s reaction thus far, he decided against it. Somehow, he was certain it would end up being his fault that this man was haunting them.

  “I wasn’t asking for an introduction.” Smithby shoved his plate off the table, sending the utensils flying as well. The tin clattered on the floor, making Culbert jerk at the sound. “Who the hell is he?”

  Culbert resisted the urge to press a hand to his stomach as it clenched something terrible. His last meal wasn’t sitting well, and with the threat of Smithby’s temper hanging over him, the cramps signaled he’d need to leave soon. “I seen him at Blackfriars Bridge a few days ago as well. He was speaking to some woman along with a few girls.”

  “And?” Smithby raised his brow. “How does that help identify him?”

  “I don’t know,” Culbert admitted with a shrug. “He must’ve been sniffin’ around is all I’m sayin’.”

  “Bloody hell.” Smithby wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve, much to Culbert’s relief. The mix of sausage and spit around his lips was nauseating. “What did the madam have to say?”

  Culbert rubbed his ear where she’d slapped him. “Nothin’ good. She wants replacement girls by this evenin’. Says she has customers expectin’ virgins and won’t be disappointin’ them, else they’ll go elsewhere.”

  “Did someone leave the door unlocked? How did he get in?”

  Culbert shook his head, mostly because he wasn’t certain of the details. “He must’ve picked the lock on the back door as well as the bedroom doors as they were locked too. By the way he took out Johnny, I’d guess he’s experienced at fighting.” That part was true as he’d seen it for himself aboard the ship back in February.

  “Why would someone take a sudden interest in the girls in a brothel?” Smithby rubbed a finger along his upper lip as he thought it over. He eyed Culbert closely, making him squirm.

  “Don’t make me take out the book, Culbert,” he warned.

  Culbert’s stomach took a sharp turn for the worse. The damned book made all the men nervous, including Culbert. Ever since Smithby had acquired The Book of Secrets, he’d had some sort of dark magic that gave Culbert the creeps. It seemed to give him unnatural power to know all and see all.

  “I’ll find out eventually, so you might as well tell me now. M
ake it easier on yourself,” Smithby warned, eyes narrowed.

  “Maybe the fancy lord who owned the steamship has something to do with this.” A partial confession was a risk, but it was as much as Culbert was willing to say despite the threat of the book.

  “Why? That was months ago.”

  “I think the man who took the girls is the same one on the bridge that day with the lord. He’s a gentleman at the least, but one who knows what he’s about.”

  Smithby nodded. “I see. We’ll have to take extra care in case he shows up again. Double the guards. We must keep the madam happy, or she’ll find someone else to supply her with girls.”

  “She’s already threatenin’ to find some herself.”

  “Christ. That’s the last thing we need. If she goes to the train station and picks up one, she’ll draw too much attention. It gives parents a chance to see her face.”

  “She insists she needs at least two for tonight.”

  “Then why are you standing here? Find some.”

  Culbert moved to turn away, only to stop when Smithby spoke again.

  “Don’t screw this up, Culbert, else I’ll have your head.”

  “Yes, sir.” He took his leave, realizing too late he’d nearly ruined the hat he’d purchased the previous day by gripping it too tightly. With one hand on his stomach, he hurried toward the nearest toilet before his bowels made a fool of him.

  ~*~

  Lettie sighed as she glanced over the ballroom the next evening. The hostess for this one favored roses. Vases of the blooms dotted the large room, scenting the air. She was grateful the doors to the garden stood ajar as the combination of the crush of people and the smell of the flowers would’ve been overwhelming otherwise.

  Still no sign of Nathaniel. He hadn’t been at the previous evening’s event either. Not that it was the only party being held. But if this continued, she’d have no choice but to seek him out at his residence. That was a bold step for a woman, even if she was almost a spinster.

  No. She couldn’t risk it, she realized. Not with Rose and her duke still undecided.

  Perhaps she could send him a message and request his presence at the ball she’d be attending tomorrow night. While still a forward move, it wasn’t nearly as risky.

  She had to find a way to speak with him.

  After much thought, she’d decided against contacting the people noted in the ads. Each time she read them, a feeling of unease came over her. She could hardly lecture Dalia about propriety if she didn’t act above reproach as well. While she knew she was a bit naïve, she was well aware the ads could be some sort of scheme.

  That was one more reason she needed Nathaniel to aid her.

  As though her thoughts had conjured him, he walked through the entrance to the ballroom. His limp was more noticeable than normal, and his lips had a pinched appearance.

  What had happened? She curbed the urge to go to him to discover the cause. Instead, she waited, not far from where many of the chaperones chatted. Though quite certain no one watched her, she tore her gaze away from Nathaniel to glance about the room before looking his way once again.

  When his blue eyes locked on hers, she wasn’t surprised. He had the uncanny ability to find her, even in a crowd. Her pulse quickened and her mouth went dry as he started toward her. What was it about him that caused her reaction? True, it wasn’t as if she met the gaze of very many men. Their glances usually swept right past her, as though she were merely part of the décor.

  Was that the cause then? Just having a man’s undivided attention, however briefly, made her heart pound like mad? Unable to resist experimenting, she looked about, at last catching a man’s gaze nearby. He looked at her briefly then returned to the conversation he was having.

  Nothing. No change in her physical being in any way. A glance toward Nathaniel had the whole process starting again. Heat in her cheeks, dryness in her mouth, and a pounding heart.

  Before she could reflect on the question any further, he had arrived at her side.

  “Good evening, Miss Fairchild.” That incredible blue gaze of his swept over her face, as though by simply studying her, he could determine everything he wanted to know.

  “Captain.” She curtsied. “Has something occurred?”

  He frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I couldn’t help but notice your limp has considerably worsened.”

  “It’s nothing.” He glanced away, but the muscle in his jaw tensed.

  “Obviously it’s something.”

  When his eyes met hers once again, she saw the lines around his eyes. She could only assume he was still in pain.

  “I overused it.”

  Somehow she was certain there was more to the story. But she could hardly force it out of him.

  The corner of his mouth quirked with the hint of a smile. “Actually, I believe you are the one person among my acquaintances who would truly appreciate the reason.”

  She gave a little gasp, catching the attention of two elderly women who chatted nearby. Trying to be more circumspect, she demanded, “Now you must tell me. Was it on Blackfriars Bridge? Or at the workhouse? What happened?”

  He chuckled softly as he glanced about the room. “Another time perhaps, when we won’t be overheard.”

  “That is exactly why I hoped you would be here this evening.”

  “Oh?” Funny how the raise of his brow like that made her stomach dance.

  She drew a step closer, well aware of the stares from some of the chaperones. Was it because she was speaking with a man or because they found Nathaniel as handsome as she did? “I am in need of your assistance in my quest.”

  Immediately he frowned. “Based upon my limited knowledge of your last two quests, I am paralyzed by fear as to what the next one might be.”

  She tried not to take affront at his comment. “I am still determined to find someone to help.” She raised a finger to halt his response. “This option does not take me to any dangerous neighborhoods.”

  His bland stare caused her to scowl but she forged ahead.

  “I have found two advertisements in somewhat respectable newspapers that offer children for sale.”

  “You jest.”

  “I don’t mean to buy them. I merely want to reach out to the families and see if I can help. If they’re interested in selling their young ones, they must be in desperate need.”

  The muscle in his jaw tensed once again.

  Lettie felt the need to further explain herself. “I intend to offer to meet them in a place that would prove safe to all involved.”

  “Where might that be?” At her lack of an answer, he asked, “And offer to do what?” His eyes dared her to continue.

  “I will inquire as to how I might be of assistance.”

  “What form of ‘assistance’ do you think might be requested?”

  Her confidence wavered. “That is the point about which I am still unclear. What would you suggest?”

  “I would suggest you do nothing. Those ads might be a scheme of some sort.”

  “I thought as much, which is why I have not yet taken action.” She looked up at him from beneath her lashes. “Would you consider aiding me?”

  He glanced away, watching the dancing couples twirling about the floor.

  Hope rose inside Lettie. At least he hadn’t immediately said no.

  “I will think upon it.” He looked quite displeased. “That is all I can offer.”

  “Is there anything I could do to sway you?”

  He closed his eyes briefly before his gaze tangled with hers. She was unprepared for the heat in them. “Do not offer what you cannot give.”

  For a brief moment, she had the craziest notion—

  That he might be suggesting—

  But no. How silly. Though they’d shared two kisses, that didn’t mean he desired her. Both times, he’d been frustrated with her. Somehow his frustration had twisted into a kiss. She didn’t care to analyze the reason he’d done it. After all these
years as a wallflower, she knew her limitations. She wasn’t the type of person to catch a man’s interest in that way.

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I suppose you don’t.”

  The sick feeling of embarrassment coursing through her was all too familiar. This was the part of social functions she detested, when it seemed as if everyone was speaking in a foreign language she didn’t understand. She felt even more isolated than normal.

  With a sigh, she pushed all the uncomfortable emotions aside to focus on her goal. “I would very much like your assistance to find some way to aid a neglected child.”

  Nathaniel turned to study her more closely. “Where did you hear that exact term?”

  Though reluctant to reveal how much she depended on books for her knowledge, no other ideas came to mind. “I happened upon a book called, The Seven—”

  “Curses of London,” Nathaniel finished for her.

  Lettie stared at him in surprise, unable to hide her smile. “You know of the book?”

  “A friend sent it to me.”

  “Isn’t it fascinating? I mean, the information shared is terrible if even half of it is true. But I confess to being riveted by it.”

  “Why do you find it so interesting?” He seemed truly curious as to her answer. “I can’t believe other ladies your age would agree.”

  “No, I don’t suppose they would. My sisters certainly don’t.” She wondered for a moment if Julia would, not that she had any intention of asking. She’d learned long ago not to bring up books she’d read with friends. No one seemed to share the same interests as she. “I find it interesting to learn how others live when it’s so different than my life, I suppose. But even more, it makes me want to help.”

  “On that we agree, but do not underestimate the danger involved.”

  “All the more reason for us to work together, don’t you think?” She couldn’t resist attempting once more to convince him.

  “I will consider it. That is the most I can promise at the moment. Isn’t that your mother staring at us?”