by Jane Charles
Audrey blew out a breath. At least he hadn’t thought her impertinent.
“Where did you last see her?” Grace asked.
“Covent Gardens,” he announced.
Eleanor leaned forward. “Perhaps this isn’t the proper gathering for such a discussion.”
Acker threw back his head a laughed. “Of all people, Eleanor, I thought you knew me better than that.”
Eleanor’s cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink before she titled her head down and sipped from the cup.
“I sit on the board focusing on national culture at The Theatre Royal.” He turned to Grace. “Drury Lane Theatre,” he said as if to clarify.
“You met her at a meeting?”
“No.” He smiled.
Were ladies even allowed to sit on the board? So many times these were run by gentlemen and most thought women too delicate to hold such positions.
“It was as I was leaving.”
Eleanor lifted a brow and settled into her chair.
“She was there to inquire if there would be auditions or if the company and troupe are already set for the Season.”
“Are they?” Grace asked.
Audrey had no idea how the theatre actually worked. She simply knew she enjoyed attending.
Acker shrugged. “I do not know, which is what I told her of course.”
“There are auditions and now you are looking for her?” Eleanor asked dryly.
Acker shot her a look. “Our conversation continued and I learned that she is not an actress but a ballerina.” A slow smile came to his lips. “I should have known by the sight of her. Tall, thin, elegant with a long, swanlike neck. Her hair was the loveliest shade of reddish gold. As beautiful as the morning sunrise. And she had the clearest green eyes I had ever encountered. Emeralds are not as beautiful.”
Eleanor slowly leaned forward, studying Acker. “I have never heard you speak so of any female. Are you in love?”
He gave her a half smile shrugged his shoulders. “I will admit I am a bit smitten, but beyond that, I am not sure.”
“I so enjoy the ballet,” Audrey sighed. “Not nearly enough are performed.”
Acker turned toward her. “I was saying the very same thing just the other day.”
“I am sure it had nothing to do with the ballerina you recently encountered,” Eleanor offered dryly.
Acker frowned at Eleanor again. The two acted more like brother and sister than friends. Audrey had always wanted a sibling. She longed to have someone she could share everything with and who she could count on no matter what. Jordan had three brothers and a sister, as did Eleanor, apparently.
“There will be a ballet on May twenty-sixth. Adolfo E Chiara is being performed at the King’s Theatre for the benefit of Mr. J. Naldi.”
Audrey brightened. She would need to see about obtaining tickets. Would Jordan go with her? Did he even enjoy the ballet? Given what she knew of his reputation it was highly doubtful.
What if he wasn’t free by May twenty-sixth? It was a horrible thought. She could certainly not enjoy the production while he was locked in Newgate.
“As I am not associated with King’s Theatre, I did not know if the show had a full cast, but I provided her the directions.”
“Is that the last you saw of her?” Eleanor asked.
“No. I glimpsed her a few days later.”
Eleanor stared at Acker, waiting for him to continue. Instead he picked a cake up off the tray and bit into it.
“You aren’t going to tell us more?” She demanded.
“I was cutting through the flower market on my way home. It was still early.”
Eleanor lifted a censuring eyebrow. Everyone knew the area was known not only for the theatre, flower market, but also brothels and prostitutes.
His cheeks brightened but Acker hastened to continue. “There was a young woman picking out flowers and at first I thought it was my ballerina because they looked so much alike.”
“She wasn’t?” Grace asked.
“No, but her younger sister.”
Audrey found herself nodding.
“But my ballerina soon came along and she remembered me from the theatre. She could not find work dancing, unfortunately. I would love to see her on stage.”
“Does she have a name?” Eleanor asked. “Or do you simply call her “my ballerina”?”
“It is Juliette Mirabelle.”
“French?” Audrey asked.
“Yes,” Acker brightened and turned toward her. “She was raised in France but now lives here with her mother and two sisters. One sister is an actress and another is an artist.”
“Is that the last time you saw her?” Audrey could sense Eleanor’s frustration. She was feeling the same. Acker had pulled her into this story and she wanted to know how he lost her. If there had only been two encounters it isn’t as if she was his to lose.
“We met two mornings later and this time she allowed me to escort her to a coffee house while her sister chose flowers. I was preparing to ask her direction since I did not know where she lived and wished to meet her mother and further my courtship.”
“What happened?” Grace asked.
“Her sister rushed in, arms loaded with a bouquet, and insisted that Juliette had to leave. The sister was pale and frightened. I didn’t get a chance to ask what was wrong and the two were gone in the blink of an eye. She has not returned to meet me.”
“You’ve not been able to locate her at all?” Audrey asked.
“No. It is as if she disappeared. I’ve asked around and nobody seems to know the family.”
“This is very odd,” Grace muttered.
“Those are my thoughts as well. But I must find her.”
“Do you intend on offering for her?” Eleanor asked.
Acker shrugged. “I do not know. I don’t know her well enough to make that determination but I am not ready to let her disappear from my life either.”
“Your mother wouldn’t mind you marrying a dancer?” Grace asked and then colored. It was an impolite question but everyone knew that gentlemen, especially lords, did not marry actresses and such. Audrey assumed ballerinas fell into the same category.
Acker laughed. “My mother would be happy if I married anyone. She wants to see me settled and have grandchildren to spoil.”
A loving smiled pulled at Eleanor’s lips. “He is right,” she directed her statement to Grace. “Lady Acker wouldn’t care if the woman came from the tobacco fields in America as long as her son was happy and married.”
“Ah, I see you have been telling them about your lost lady.”
They turned toward the door at the sound of Bentley’s voice. Audrey was on her feet instantly. “Is there any news?”
“But apparently you didn’t take their mind off their troubles,” he chastised Acker.
“As if we could forget Jordan is sitting in Newgate,” Grace argued.
Eleanor narrowed her eyes at her husband. “Did you send Acker to keep me occupied?”
“I knew you would worry and when I ran into him in the flower market this morning I knew he could keep you entertained for a short while.”
“What were you doing in Covent Garden?” Eleanor asked, eyes raised as if his explanation had better be convincing since he wasn’t holding any flowers to gift her with.
“I had two perfectly good reasons for being there,” he defended. His gaze shifted toward Audrey and he cleared his throat. “I was going over Jordan’s movements up until the time he was arrested.”
“Have you learned anything?” Audrey questioned.
Bentley shook his head. “I am missing something, I am sure of it.”
Jordan lay on his straw mattress watching the window as night began to disappear and the sky lightened. He slept very little and when he did his dreams were filled with nightmares. He had to get out of here. Being caged like this was going to make him mad, of that he didn’t doubt.
He had gone over the facts as he knew them and he looked da
mned guilty.
But he wasn’t.
Who committed the crimes and what piece of information was he missing?
The questions had been asked a thousand times and he still had no answer.
Frustrated he swung his legs over the side of the bed and thrust his fingers through his hair. What was he missing? What small detail had been overlooked?
What was Audrey doing now?
Was she still safe? Was she worried about him? Would her uncle reject his suit because he had been locked up in Newgate?
Jordan wouldn’t allow it. If her uncle and father declined his offer of marriage he would simply take Audrey off to Gretna.
These few days he had been in this cell had left him with a lot of time to think. For so long he wanted normalcy. A home and family. As long as his father was alive Jordan knew it was impossible, but the man had been dead over a year now and just when Jordan thought he was about to achieve all that he wanted it was snatched away.
Would he be stuck in here for the rest of his life, or swing from the gallows, never knowing what it was like to fully love Audrey? He closed his eyes and lay back on his bunk, imagining what it would be like to fall asleep with her each night and wake to her warmth in the morning. To be able to lay his hand on her stomach as it grew round with their child. He had heard of expectant fathers being able to feel a child’s movement before birth, not that it was usually discussed, and Jordan wanted that experience.
He would buy a home near her parents, build stables and fill them with horses. He would learn all there was to know about running a stud farm and raising race horses. What Audrey couldn’t teach him, Jordan would learn from her father.
He would need to split his time between Grosmont and London because he wasn’t willing to give up his profession. At least not just yet. There were too many men two floors below him, locked away but just as innocent.
He wanted a home with laughter and love, with children running about, and behaving like children as he and his brothers were never allowed.
Tears pricked the back of his eyes but he refused to cry.
He would be free of here. Somehow, someway he would walk away from Newgate a free man and the first thing he was going to do was make Audrey his wife.
Jordan pushed up from the bed. Laying here feeling sorry for himself was not going to get him free. He made his way to the desk and picked up the parchments filled with his notes. Once again he reviewed the list of who would wish to harm the women and kill the gentlemen. It was a damnable short list. What was he missing or what connections were he not making.
It was deuced frustrating.
“Another delivery, Trent.”
Jordan turned to find the jailer approaching his cell, John following behind.
“Have you learned anything more?” Trent asked anxiously as John entered the cell.
His face was grim. “No, but we aren’t giving up.”
“I know you won’t.” Jordan sighed and took the basket and handed his brother the empty one.
“You look a mess,” John offered.
Of that Jordan didn’t doubt. There wasn’t a mirror in the cell but he hadn’t bathed or shaved or changed his clothing since the morning of his arrest. What he wouldn’t give for a hip tub, hot water and a razor at the moment. “You may want to stay over there.”
John quirked a brow. “Trust me, I will. Just don’t get too close.”
“How is Audrey? Is she safe?”
“According to Matthew, Grace doesn’t think she is sleeping much. She went to Bow Street to plead for you but as she didn’t have any evidence she was turned away.”
Audrey should not have to be worrying about getting him his freedom. She should be thinking about the next ball or what horse she wished to place a bet on.
“Lady Rothsbury and Angelique also went to Bow Street to insist on your innocence.”
“Were they able to sway their opinion?”
“No.” John leaned back and shoved the hand not holding the basket into his pocket. “They were there when Audrey was however.”
Jordan’s head snapped up.
“Apparently all three were pleading for you at the same time but Wesby wouldn’t listen to any of them.”
“Audrey was with Angelique and Lady Rothsbury?”
John laughed. “Only you could manage to have three women, two former lovers and a future wife, pleading for you and not fighting each other. How do you do it?”
Jordan wasn’t sure himself. He just wished his past life would separate from his future. What had Audrey thought of the women, what had been said? Would she break from him when he was free? But, he was a better man now. Or, at least he wanted to be.
The day proceeded at a snail’s pace and Audrey was about to go mad at the inactivity and worry. She was sitting in the large parlor with the rest of Jordan’s family waiting for John to return from Newgate. The dowager countess, his step-mother was also present. She had been apprised of the situation shortly after Jordan’s arrest but this was the first time she had left her home. The woman was pale and her face was drawn with worry, though she tried to remain positive. Despite this, Audrey was struck by how young the lady was. She couldn’t be much older than Bentley. Had she been a child bride? She was the former Bentley’s third wife and it wasn’t uncommon for older lords to marry much younger ladies though Bentley wouldn’t have needed to marry someone so young for heirs. He already had four sons before he married his third wife.
Few words were spoken and each turned toward the door whenever a carriage slowed before the house. This waiting was maddening.
The knock on the front door startled them. Audrey didn’t understand why any of them reacted so since this is what they were waiting for. It only showed how on edge each of them was.
John sauntered into the parlor.
“Did you get them to drop the charges?” Bentley demanded.
John sadly shook his head. “Wesby would hear none of my arguments. He said that until we can prove Jordan was somewhere else when each of the crimes were committed then they have no choice.”
“How is Jordan?” his step-mother asked.
John offered her a gentle smile. “He is holding up.” He strolled to the sideboard and poured dark liquid into the glass before turning to the rest of them.
“I would like to speak with Lady Rothsbury’s brother,” Audrey announced.
They all looked at her. “We already have,” Bentley informed her.
“Yes, I know, and I mean no disrespect.” She clutched her skirt, balling the material hoping she didn’t offend.
He lifted an eyebrow. “But you think we may have missed something.”
Her face heated. “Not necessarily but I may think of a question you did not.”
“I don’t think that is a good idea, Audrey,” Matthew offered. “Bridges works in a storehouse along the docks and his home is not far away from his ships or his business. It is not safe for a lady.”
Audrey lengthened her spine. She was not going to sit here like some delicate lady waiting for someone else to free Jordan. She was perfectly capable of thinking and investigating as the gentlemen and they hadn’t come up with answers so who was to say she wouldn’t. “I will go alone, if necessary, but I am going.”
The brothers shared a look. Bentley finally moved toward her. “I will take you.”
“I will go along,” Elizabeth offered.
Bentley looked to John, as if he needed to give approval for his wife to accompany them. John simply shrugged. “You should have someone to protect you.”
“Thank you for the vote of confidence,” Bentley offered dryly.
Audrey had never been to the docks before and was amazed at the number of people and constant activity. Men operated large pulleys, lifting crates off of ships, workers shouted to each other and seagulls squawked and flew about. The carriage stopped before a large storehouse and Bentley assisted the ladies out and escorted them in to the one she assumed belonged to Lady Rothsbury�
��s brother. A huge bulk of a man approached and Audrey had to tilt her head back to look up at him.
“I need to see Mr. Jonathan Bridges,” Bentley informed the man.
“Who might you be?” the large man asked.
“Lord Bentley and this is Mrs. John Trent and Miss Audrey Montgomery.”
The man crossed his thick arms over his barreled chest and nodded to a set of wooden stairs leading to what Audrey suspected was an upstairs office.
Bentley offered his thanks and turned toward the stairs. Elizabeth went first, followed by Audrey and then Bentley. The steps ended at the entrance to a rather large office. A man with sandy hair was bent over his desk, reading some sort of document.
He glanced up at their entrance and stood. “Is there any word about your brother?”
Bentley strode toward the desk, stuck out his hand and introduced himself. “We need to ask you a few more questions about the night your sister was attacked.”
Bridges gestured to the chairs before the desk. “Please, have a seat.”
“He didn’t attack Lady Rothsbury,” Audrey felt the need to inform him.
“Of course not,” Bridges shook his head. “Bow Street is rushing to judgment and not listening to reason.”
She relaxed back into her seat. Audrey wasn’t sure what she would have done if Mr. Bridges had thought that Jordan was guilty. “Who do you think attacked her?”
Bridges studied her for a moment. “The only person my sister has made angry of late is Lord Creighton, her brother-in-law.”
Bentley nodded. “We are aware of the circumstances. Did you know that another woman was attacked recently, in the same manner?”
“Yes, though for the life of me I can’t image how the two could be related.”
“What did Lady Rothsbury tell you of the night of the attack?” Audrey asked.
Bridges leaned back in his chair, light brown eyes focused on somewhere else in the room as if seeing something else.
“She told me that she had retired early, having left the ball after encountering Creighton.”
“Go on,” Bentley encouraged.
“She had gone to bed only to be awakened by an intruder. His face was covered.”
