“I’ll stand, please be seated,” Xavier insisted. He tried leaning against the wall, but it was like leaning on a slab of ice, so he paced the small six feet of room.
“Miss Torres, my partner and I are vacationing in Cadiz, Spain, have been for several months. The last case I took before we left revealed that a Parliament member had decided to get rid of his wife by placing her into Bedlam under a false name.”
“Margaret Thurber,” she stated softly.
“Yes, how did you know?” Xavier asked.
“My husband had planned the same fate for me, only the business of getting rid of inconvenient wives was momentarily interrupted due to your investigation. My husband feared some correspondence with Thurber might result in him being questioned by Scotland Yard, so he scurried off to my country home to shoot fowl. Now aware of my dire future, I took the opportunity to escape before he dared return to London.”
“A very wise decision. However, you left a trail.”
She shook her head.
“Faint, but for a professional, easy enough to follow.”
“But you said you wouldn’t work for men like my husband.”
“True, but there are other investigators in England who do not hold to the same degree of ethics as I.”
“So I am still in danger?”
“Without question. I cannot undo the trail you left, but we can make it end here…if you are willing to move again and acquire a new name?”
Glancing about her dismal abode, she replied, “You jest? How could I ever leave such a delightful home?”
Xavier was in the process of writing her off as true Bedlam material when she smiled and stood. “I am ready to leave whenever you are.”
Not madness, only a perverse sense of humor. He returned her smile and opened the front door for her. He liked the lady. Not many women could wield a pitchfork one moment and find humor in the next.
Once inside his carriage, she spoke, “Where shall I go?”
“For your immediate safety I shall take you to a friend’s winery in Spain.”
“I must stop at the bank in Santerum.”
“How much do you have there?”
“Everything.”
“And how much is that?” Xavier persisted. Why couldn’t people just answer his questions?
“Two hundred and eighteen pounds.”
“I will reimburse you for the money. It is not worth alerting your husband you are on the move in case his people have already found your location.”
Her eyes rounded in fear. “Is that possible?”
“Absolutely. They’ve had months to hunt you down. My partner only recently determined you were not gadding about Europe as you should be.”
“I don’t understand. Why would your partner even know of me?”
“Long story, but due to the Thurber fiasco, the Queen demanded Scotland Yard to verify all the English ladies who were said to be traveling in Europe without their husbands were actually doing so.”
“That’s very thoughtful of Her Majesty, but I’m sure Scotland Yard has better things to do.”
Xavier chuckled. “Inspector Stone thought as much. So knowing Vic and I were headed to Spain, he gave me a list of a hundred and some-odd ladies to check on.”
“You’ve probably had a terrible vacation then.”
“It’s been a roller coaster,” Xavier admitted. “Vic got shot, and for a while I thought I’d lose him. Then recently I acquired a young son.”
Her head tilted. “Do you mean adopted?”
He grimaced. “No. The child is mine. The mother did not wish to keep him.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed. “I cannot imagine a woman not wanting to keep her child.”
Xavier pulled an actual woman from Jacko’s recent past to inspire his make-believe lover. “She’s an actress. A child would ruin her career. I had to pay her a bloody fortune to come to Spain and forego inducing a miscarriage. She’s already returned to England with several expensive posters to prove her theatrical success while touring Europe.”
“That’s horrible,” she said softly.
“Actually, I believe we are both satisfied with the arrangement. She has the life she wants, and I have managed to save the only child I will ever sire.”
“Do you have a woman to help you?” she asked.
“Yes, and my partner wishes to assist as well.”
“The one shot?”
Xavier nodded.
“So he has recovered?”
“He’s getting there. Hopefully, when we arrive, he will be walking.” Xavier frowned. What if Vic still had long hair and breasts? Miss Torres would probably notice such oddities.
When they arrived at the winery, Xavier asked Miss Torres to remain in the carriage as he headed to the door alone. While he wanted to help the lady, he wasn’t going to risk Vic’s secret to do so.
A short haired, pot-bellied young man met him at the door. “Well, did you find her, or do we need to roust about Bedlam again?”
“I found her, but she left a trail, so I’ve brought her here.”
“And left her out in the carriage!” Vic rolled her eyes, grabbed a coat and tried to leave the house.
Xavier snared her arm. “Believe me, compared to the house I found her in, it’s a veritable heat wave in the carriage.”
“That’s true,” the woman spoke directly behind him. She stepped past Xavier and shook Vic’s hand. “Are you Vic?”
“Victor Hamilton, but everyone calls me Vic.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for sending Mr. Thorn after me. I didn’t realize I’d left a trail that could be followed.”
Vic smiled and led her inside. “Xavier will get your bags.”
“I don’t have any,” she whispered, her cheeks flushing bright red.
“Not to worry. There is an excellent tailor in Cadiz who will fit you up nicely.”
“I…”
Xavier stopped her from suffering further embarrassments. “We will discuss costs at a different time. Right now, Miss Betterton, just rest assured you are safe, warm, and will eat well.”
Spotting Sara watching them from the kitchen door, he stopped. “Sara, could you heat up the soup Vic had at lunch for Miss Betterton?”
She nodded and disappeared.
Vic abandoned the lady and hurried to a mirror, studying her face and clothes. A streak of brown marred her shirt right above her left breast. “Ah…that’s how you knew what I had for lunch.” She tried to lick the fabric that held the drop of soup, but couldn’t quite reach it. “This is a job for Cannon,” she declared and hurried down the hall.
Xavier escorted Miss Betterton to the parlor. Without being asked, Sara brought in tea and biscuits. “The soup will be ready very soon.”
Miss Betterton thanked her and complimented the girl as she left the room. “She’s a lovely young woman, so happy…”
“Yes, well, Vic is keen about having a happy staff,” he admitted. “However, to that point. Sara’s husband, who is a valuable employee, is seven feet tall, and four hundred pounds. If I have your word you will refrain from fainting, screaming, or allowing your face to contort in horror, I will ask him to come in so you can meet him. His main job is to keep Vic safe. The pup draws trouble like a magnet.”
“Like being shot?”
“Exactly, only Tubs was not around to protect Vic then. That responsibility was solely mine.”
“Not true,” Vic replied as she joined them, no longer bearing a small spot of soup. Instead, a large portion her shirt was soggy wet and transparent. Fortunately, it only revealed a muslin shirt beneath. Jacko’s recommended tailor had evidently come through for Vic.
“The injury was solely my fault,” she insisted.
“I thought you were returning with Cannon?” he asked, bored with the former topic.
“I was going to, but upon tasting a bit of soup, the boy demanded to be returned to his nursemaid.”
Xavier sighed. “I really wanted to
see him.”
Vic patted his shoulder. “You will, but allow me to say, he’s a great deal more pleasant if you don’t stand between him and his meals.”
“Then let me find Tubs,” Xavier said and headed to the kitchen.
***
Damn it! She wished Xavier had discussed the matter with her first. Tubs was beginning to believe he was a man of value, worthy of being loved. The last thing she wanted was a setback.
She stared intently at the woman. “Please refrain from screaming. It hurts Tubs’ feelings.”
Miss Betterton gave her a sad smile. “After the life I’ve led, it will take more than a seven foot fellow to frighten me.”
Vic finally noticed her nose tilted to one side, and her scarred left cheek seemed lower than the right. Further scars were visible on her lips when she’d smiled.
Xavier returned, tugging Tubs behind him. “Miss Betterton, this is Mr. Sonny Tubs, our most valuable employee and Sara’s husband.”
Not only did the woman not faint, but she stood and extended her hand as she smiled. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Tubs. You have a charming wife, I hope you treasure her.”
Tubs smiled with pride. “I surely do.”
“Then she is blessed as well,” Miss Betterton added.
Excusing himself, he hurried to the kitchen.
Vic couldn’t have asked for matters to go better had she given everyone a script to follow beforehand.
Sara pranced out like a high stepping pony a moment later, announcing soup was ready at the dining table.
Vic followed them in, pleased to see Sara had a bowl of soup for her too.
Xavier challenged her right to eat two lunches with that arrogant right eyebrow of his, but she chose to ignore him and focus on Miss Betterton.
“Has Xavier imposed a first name upon you?” Vic asked.
“No,” the woman replied.
“Good. How do you like Rachel?”
Before Miss Betterton could answer, Xavier objected. “She’s in Spain. She’ll need a Spanish name like Theresa.”
“She’s no more Spanish than I am,” Vic replied. “And what is Betterton? Certainly not Spanish.”
Xavier held up his hands. “Fair point.” He then focused on the woman. “One of your mistakes was taking the name of a Portugal town. The oddity will stand out to locals. It would be like hiding in New Castle, England as Castila New.”
“Do you speak Portuguese?” Vic asked.
She shook her head.
“Spanish?”
“Enough to be understood, but no one would ever mistake me for a native.”
“Then Rachel Betterton it is,” Xavier declared.
“If you like the name,” Vic added.
“I do. Rachel sounds strong, while Betterton suggests a better place.”
Their guest devoured her entire bowl of soup as only a starving person could. Vic pushed her bowl towards the woman. “Would you like another bowl? Truth is I’ve already had two servings.”
Rachel grimaced. “If you wouldn’t mind.”
“You’d be doing him a favor,” Xavier stated. “Or soon he’ll be so fat that he can’t run from trouble, and believe me, the pup needs his speed.”
Five minutes later, Sara returned and stared at the two empty bowls in front of Rachel. A large smile spread from ear to ear. “Would you care for more?”
Rachel blushed. “No, but it was the best soup I’ve ever had.”
“It’s my aunt’s recipe. She’s a very good cook.”
“She is,” Xavier agreed. “But you are as well.”
Sara literally glowed. Vic never knew a person could be so happy.
“Should I ready a room for Miss Betterton?” Sara asked.
Xavier had no clue about the rooms, so Vic spoke up. “Put her in a room attached to the indoor court.” She then turned to Rachel. “That way you can go outside and feel completely safe because the house is built around the garden. Also, there’s no wind, so if you find a patch of sun, it’s very nice at noon.”
Rachel smiled at Vic. “Thank you. That is most considerate.”
Vic decided to help her more. “Sara, find those dresses left behind. They look like they might fit Rachel. Alice won’t ever wear them again. They’ll be out of fashion before she returns to this place.”
“But it’s so beautiful here,” Rachel objected. “Why would she not come back?”
Vic was about to mention the prior servants had tried to kill Alice, but decided such a story wouldn’t make the woman feel safe. “Alice is a scientist of agriculture, and thus, she needs to stay near her farms in England.”
A smile came to the woman’s lips. “I like her already. Are you sure she won’t mind me wearing her dresses?”
“I can guarantee it,” Vic replied. Given the dresses were Vic’s, she was quite certain Alice wouldn’t care. Still, she had no doubt Jacko’s wife would be the first to give away her clothes to help this woman who bore scars of abuse.
From beneath the table, Xavier gripped her hand and squeezed it. She dare not look at him, or Rachel would too easily read her love. So instead, she stood. “I’ll see if Cannon is ready to be sociable.”
***
A month later, Xavier announced during dinner he had secured Rachel a permanent home. Instead of happiness, Rachel ceased to eat and stared at her hands now in her lap.
“Of course. You will be returning to England soon,” she said with misery.
Xavier brow furrowed, no doubt confused why his efforts were so poorly received, but Vic understood. Rachel had grown to love this house and her current companions. To be honest, they had all grown fond of the woman as well.
“Rachel, if we could take you with us, we would,” Vic said. “But you wouldn’t be safe in London.”
She nodded. “I know. It’s just…I’ve never been happier than my time here.”
Xavier smiled. “Glad to hear it, because I’ve arranged for you to remain here as the permanent housekeeper.”
Rachel’s head popped up in shock.
“At a salary of twenty pounds a month,” Xavier continued.
“That is too much.”
“Nonetheless, it’s the salary offered. Take it or leave it.”
Rachel stared at him in silence.
Xavier sighed and looked at Vic. “I leave this in your hands,” he said and excused himself from the table.
Tubs and Sara found reasons to leave the table as well.
Vic studied the woman several minutes before deciding on her line of persuasion. “Rachel, you are probably seeing this as an act of charity.”
“What else could it be called? After all Mr. Thorn and you have done for me, now to pay me a fortune to live in this beautiful house. It isn’t right.”
“The job offer and your salary has come from the owner of the house. To be honest, you’ll be doing them a favor. They had such horrible luck with the prior housekeeper and staff, that unless you take this job, they might never return, which is a shame, because it’s a beautiful home.
Gaining Rachel’s nod in agreement, Vic continued. “I’ve no doubt in securing a sane and gentle woman to care for this house, Jacko hopes to get Alice to return here on occasion.”
“But you said she wished to stay near her farms,” Rachel said.
“She does, except in winter. But instead of coming here, they remain in dreary old England because the prior staff of this house nearly killed Alice.”
“What?” Rachel’s eyes rounded in shock.
“The housekeeper decided Jacko should marry her daughter rather than his fiancée, so they bludgeoned Alice on the head and carried her off. The wretched maid promised to free Alice only if he married her. Alice barely escaped in time to rescue Jacko from a lifetime of misery.”
Rachel pressed her hands to her chest. “My word!”
“So you see how Jacko might be willing to pay more to secure a rational, sane, English housekeeper who will never bludgeon anyone.”
“If I were prone to doing so, my husband would be long dead.”
“Then you’ll accept the job, giving Jacko and Alice the peace of mind they require to return to this sunny haven during winter?”
The smile on her face indicated she had finally resigned herself to her new and better life. “Yes. Let me find Mr. Thorn and thank him for securing me this perfect situation.”
Chapter 8
Vic had just returned from taking Cannon on his crawl-about on the ship deck and handed his leash to Sara. The young woman picked up the rapidly growing boy and removed the leather pads protecting his hands and knees before giving him to his favorite person, Gina the nursemaid.
That the Spanish woman had agreed to come with them to England, surprised Vic. When she had asked, the nursemaid insisted she could never leave her beautiful country, but somehow, Xavier had changed her mind. When Vic challenged him on how he’d managed to achieve this, he gave the credit to his formidable charm.
In response, Vic had burst into laughter. “No, seriously, what did you offer her?”
With reluctance, he admitted he’d tripled her pay.
However, as Vic watched the unattractive woman bat her lashes and smile at Xavier with cow eyes, she worried her partner might have actually used his charm to get the matter resolved, and too much of it at that.
She forced herself to look on the bright side. Cannon had his preferred milk bags, allowing Vic’s to shrink sufficiently that she no longer looked like a portly young man in need of exercise. While her breasts were larger than they used to be, Jacko’s tailor had done a fabulous job creating her anaconda undershirts laced on the left side that compressed them nicely while widening her waist and stomach to provide a flat profile.
Grabbing a cloth, she wiped the slobber off her sleeve. “We should have named him Leaky.”
Xavier snorted. “Leaky Cannon Thorn. Think the boy would have an easy time at boarding school with that name?”
“Maybe we should rename his middle name to Richard?”
Xavier’s right eyebrow rose. “Leaky Dick Thorn?”
“No. Cannon Richard Thorn.”
Xavier shook his head. “You clearly never attended boarding school. How about Cannon Archibald Thorn?”
“Archibald? After the First Minister? I’m not naming my—” she stopped herself. Gina was listening. “…nephew after a fool.”
Pack of Trouble (The Adventures of Xavier & Vic Book 5) Page 7
