With Good Grace

by Wendy Soliman

  ‘Come into the library and have some tea,” Jake invited, placing a hand on her elbow and steering her in that direction.

  Olivia was astonished when Jake closed the door behind them and, with what sounded like a low growl of frustration, immediately pulled her into his arms.

  ‘I have been beside myself with worry about you,’ he said softly.

  She blinked up at him, wondering what he was not telling her. She had been in considerably more dangerous situations in the past and none of them had elicited such a passionate response. There again, they had been in denial about their feelings for one another on those previous occasions. She was still unsure if that situation had permanently altered.

  ‘As you can see,’ she replied lightly. ‘I am perfectly well.’

  ‘I do see.’ His glistening eyes examined her upturned face. ‘And I confess to liking the view very much indeed.’

  She expected him to release her but he didn’t do so. It was most unlike him to be so openly demonstrative, and Olivia racked her addled brains to decide what she had done to make him behave thus. Not that thinking was so easily achieved; not when arms like bands of steel held her against him, sending a spiral of inexorable need throbbing through her entire body. She bit her lower lip, swallowing as she waited for her pounding heart to slow, and then glanced up into brown eyes that gleamed with sensual disobedience. Oh dear lord, when he looked at her like that she was a lost cause!

  Jacob Morton, the Earl of Torbay, really was an enigma, and even though their friendship had become intimate she still felt that she didn’t really know him. He had been so conflicted about their developing passion for one another that he had taken himself out of London for two whole months to avoid her company. And now he was back and seemed to want her as much as she wanted him; ached for him, dreamed of him night after frustrating night. She wanted him with a desperate longing that defied logical explanation. No other man had ever made her feel half so alive, so desirable, so completely feminine, and none ever would. If Jake didn’t want her then she really would remain a widow for the rest of her days, living a quiet life in the country, breeding cats and scaring away the local children by pretending to be a witch.

  His lips claimed hers with heart-stopping precision, cutting off her rambling thoughts. Elemental sparks flew between them when his capable hands greedily roamed over her back, pulling her against him until her body collided with the solidity of his and her few remaining thoughts disintegrated into pure sensation. The explosive amalgamation of mutual desire lit a spark in her bloodstream as hunger fuelled their passion. She slipped her arms around his neck and returned his kiss with fervour. Desire for this intelligent, highly-complex, confusingly contradictory man made her reckless and she pushed her pelvis against his burgeoning arousal to prove the point.

  With a tortured groan, Jake broke the kiss and held her shoulders in a firm grasp. Just as well, since at that precise moment, Olivia was suddenly unsure if her legs would support her unaided. Jake had kissed her many times before, but his kisses had never been so passionately reckless. She was perfectly sure he had not planned to embrace her the moment they were alone together and the analytical side of her brain wanted to know what she had done to fracture his iron self-control.

  ‘I spent the entire night worrying about you,’ he told her.

  ‘Best not let Parker hear you say that,’ she replied lightly. ‘He will be disgruntled if he thinks you did not trust him to do his job.’

  ‘Oh, Olivia!’ Jake’s sigh was deep, expressive and just a little tortured. ‘What am I to do about you?’

  ‘What is it, Jake?’ She felt sufficiently in control to shake his hands from her shoulders, walk across the room and take a seat beside the fire. ‘I have never seen you in such an introspective mood before.’

  ‘You are my vulnerability,’ he replied, with what was for him exceptional candidness. ‘The one aspect of my life, my heart, over which I have absolutely no control. Trust me, I know because I have tried to get you out of my system, but you simply refuse to quit it.’

  Olivia’s own heart soared as he made the admission. ‘How tiresome for you,’ she replied with a soft little sigh of her own. ‘I know just how much you like to be in control.’

  ‘I should never have involved you in my affairs.’

  ‘Personal or professional?’

  ‘The latter led to the former.’

  ‘Well then, we had best make the best of things.’ Olivia decided that the time had come for a little plain speaking. ‘We have been dancing around the issue of our feelings for one another for quite long enough and one of us needs to be honest. I love you, Jacob Morton.’ She fixed him with a challenging glower. ‘I wish I did not, for it is most inconvenient, but I do, and there is not a thing I can do to alter that situation. Believe me, you are not the only one to have tried. I have repeatedly told myself that you are I together is possibly the worst idea in the world, but it does me no good. My heart refuses to listen to my head.’ She spread her hands. ‘Of course, if you think you might be able to conquer your feelings, given time, or that my notoriety will make you persona non grata in society’s eyes, then I quite understand.’

  ‘Hang society!’

  ‘You say that now, but you would miss it if doors were closed to you.’

  ‘My love!’ Jake took her hand and pulled her to her feet. ‘I am a dangerous man to love.’

  ‘Perhaps that is what attracts me. Life around you is certainly never dull.’

  ‘For me, you are an addictive drug. The more I have of you, the more I need to function as a man, as an earl, and especially as Thorndike’s damned whipping boy.’ He traced the curve of her face with a delicate touch. ‘I am nothing without you; a shell of a man.’

  Olivia’s heart soared. ‘You do not have to be without me.’ But it wasn’t the right time to ask in what capacity he wanted her. He would come to see in time that he could not marry her and still have…well, respectability. That was all right. She had never anticipated becoming his countess and would be content to be his mistress. A part of Jake would be better than nothing at all; she was that much in love with him.

  ‘It cannot be.’ He sighed and looked away from her. Olivia’s heart lurched. ‘We ought not to have this conversation now. Instead, we ought to be trying to find Grantley and whatever it is that your late husband had in his possession that likely got him killed.’

  ‘Oh no!’ Olivia planted her fists on her waist and glowered at him. ‘You don’t start pouring your heart out to me and then change the subject as though we had been discussing something of no greater import than the weather.’

  ‘What you possibly fail to appreciate is that my life will never be routine. I shall spend the rest of it, most likely, looking over my shoulder.’

  ‘Are you trying to let me down gently, Lord Torbay?’

  ‘I am being realistic, my love.’

  ‘Then thank you for the warning but you will have to do a great deal better than that if you mean to deter me.’

  ‘I cannot,’ he said, again pulling her into a fierce embrace, his expression tortured. ‘I can no longer talk myself out of something that I want so very much, even if by admitting to my feelings, I will be placing you in a state of perpetual danger.’

  ‘What feelings would those be?’ Olivia asked, canting her head and sending him a reproachful look. ‘I have yet to hear you express them.’

  ‘Do you really need me to say what—’

  There was a tap on the door.

  ‘Damnation!’

  A moment’s reflection was sufficient for Olivia to decide that the interruption was probably just as well. Jake was right about one thing. Now was not the right time, but their difficulty was that there never seemed to be a right time.

  ‘We shall continue this conversation later,’ he said, sending her an apologetic look. ‘Come in,’ he called.

  Parker walked in, followed by two footmen carrying Marcus’s boxes.

  ‘Thank y
ou, Parker. Put them on the table over there.’ Jake seemed commendably in control, which was a great deal more than could be said for Olivia. Her emotions were still in a hopeless jumble following her frank exchange with Jake. ‘Mrs Grantley and I will continue going through them when we have had our tea.’

  Chapter Seven

  Jake and Olivia took their tea sitting opposite one another in matching chairs in front of his library fire. It felt natural to have her share his private domain; just as pulling her into his arms had been a spontaneous reaction to seeing her safe and well. Jake never behaved spontaneously as a general rule. In his line of work it would be a grave miscalculation. Spontaneity got men killed. Letting any organ other than his brain do the thinking for him could—already had—placed Olivia in danger.

  ‘Are we really going to go through those stuffy papers, Jake?’ she asked, her colour still high after his kiss and her gratifyingly enthusiastic response to it. ‘I very much doubt if Marcus would have left anything of value lying about in the house.’

  ‘I thought the boxes contained documents he had stored away in his library.’

  ‘Yes, I had someone pack them all up when we moved.’

  ‘Well, there you are then. You cannot say with certainty what the boxes contain.’

  She gave a reluctant nod. ‘I suppose not.’

  He smiled across at her, admiring her beauty and the touching air of vulnerability she exuded as she stirred her tea and took a dainty sip. The tight bodice and high neckline of her blue gown did little to disguise her trim waist and the enticing swell of her breasts. The visual evidence of his physical desire had still not completely subsided but he didn’t mind if she saw it. He wanted her to know just how inconvenient his passion for her could be, and how little control he had over it. He thought she did know, but what she seemed unwilling or unable to grasp was that his reluctance to put his own pleasures first was a direct result of the very real threat it could represent to her wellbeing.

  ‘Anyway, I rather hoped that you would go through the boxes on your own.’

  ‘Oh no!’ She fixed him with a look of firm determination. ‘I think I have earned the right to accompany you when you make your enquiries.’

  ‘Indeed you have,’ he replied with a smile drenched in warmth. ‘And you shall, if that is what you would prefer, but before you decide, let us take a moment to think about what we now know.’

  ‘By all means.’ Her own smile held a hint of mischief. ‘Are you really going to tell me everything you actually know or continue with the ridiculous notion that I require protecting?’

  ‘I will always protect you, Olivia, to the very best of my abilities. Please don’t expect me to apologise for that.’

  ‘I know you will.’ She placed her cup aside and leaned towards him, caressing him with her eyes so intently that Jake was obliged to suppress a groan. ‘I have total faith in your abilities. However, we were about to take stock.’

  ‘So we were.’ Jake took a moment to compose his thoughts, or at the very least, to drag his mind away from recollections of Olivia’s curvaceous body spread against his own. Even through all those hoops, whalebones and petticoats, he had sensed the moment when his engorged cock created a maelstrom of pleasure and torment within her that she had yet to recover from. Now she understood the frustration that he was obliged to withstand whenever in her company, or even just thinking about her. If she was uncomfortable now, she only had herself to blame for being so damned provocative that she made him forget himself. ‘Firstly, your brother-in-law has gone missing. At about the same time, someone broke into Barber’s theatrical agency office and a night watchman was killed as a direct result.’

  ‘You think the two events are connected?’

  ‘Possibly, especially since your husband was killed in a similar burglary, at a time when your house was supposed to be empty, the servants mostly in bed or below stairs. It is possible, I suppose, that Sir Hubert has simply absconded because his situation has become untenable.’

  ‘And left Margaret to face the bailiffs?’ Jake nodded. ‘Doubtful. He enjoys being Sir Hubert a little too much. But still…if he has debts of honour that would see him blackballed from his clubs if he does not settle them, then I suppose absconding might seem preferable to public disgrace. But where would he go if he has no money?’

  ‘Perhaps he has.’ Jake crossed one foot over his opposite knee and leaned back in his chair. ‘Can you remember what paintings hung in their hallway?’

  Olivia blinked, clearly surprised by the question. ‘There was a Gainsborough, I do remember that.’ She plucked abstractedly at her lower lip. ‘And a couple of other valuable works, but I can’t remember who the artists were.’

  ‘Drop a note to Lady Grantley, if you would. Ask her which paintings have been sold and how long ago.’

  ‘Why? Surely you don’t think that Hubert has pocketed the proceeds and run off.’

  Jake suspected exactly that, but had no proof. ‘What I think doesn’t signify,’ he said. ‘We need to deal in facts.’

  ‘Very well. I know the paintings were still there when I lasted visit the Hall, which is obviously over two years ago. But still, Hubert was very proud of them. He pointed them out to everyone who called at the Hall and would not have parted with them until he was desperate.’

  ‘Ah, but how desperate? That is what we need to establish.’

  ‘Very well. I will write to Margaret straight away.’

  ‘Thank you. Now then, I am still sure that whatever has resulted in two murders is of immense value to someone.’

  ‘Clearly, but I cannot begin to imagine what it might be.’ She sent Jake a sultry smile that played havoc with his recently regained composure. ‘The boxes,’ she said with a resigned shrug. ‘I do see their significance now, I suppose.’

  ‘With regard to Sir Hubert, I shall go to the Garrick Club this morning and make enquiries myself about the mysterious A.C. You are welcome to accompany me. I also plan to visit Barber.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I am curious to know why all of your husband’s clients stayed with him. Some of them are very well known and highly regarded. Barber has connections, but from what Parker has been able to ascertain, they are not nearly as good as some of his competitors. The Music Hall has made theatre accessible for all classes of society and treading the boards is no longer considered to be a disreputable profession; quite the reverse in fact, hence the spawning of so many more agents over the past few years. I will say one thing for your husband: he saw which way the wind blew early on and was not afraid to take risks.’

  ‘You think whatever was the cause of Marcus’s death also persuaded his clients to remain true to his agency?’

  Jake nodded. ‘Which implies that Barber inherited that toxic something. Hence, the break-in orchestrated perhaps by one of the actors tired of being restricted to a small agency.’

  Olivia gasped. ‘You think Marcus blackmailed his clients into remaining with him?’

  ‘Do you think him capable of doing so?’

  ‘There is little I would not think him capable of,’ Olivia replied slowly. ‘Even so, I hope you are not right. If you are, I must live with the knowledge that the father of my child was a blackmailer.’

  ‘I should not have mentioned it.’ Jake scowled. ‘Forgive me. I can see that the possibility upsets you. Of course it does.’

  ‘Hubert worked with Marcus,’ Olivia replied, waving Jake’s apology aside. ‘If there was blackmail involved, he probably knew about it and had ample opportunity to take the offending material and use it for his own purposes.’

  ‘But we know he did not do so; otherwise he wouldn’t be in sure dire financial straits.’

  ‘Indeed, and since, for once, you have deigned to share your thoughts with me, I shall be happy to remain here and go through the boxes whilst you go off and ask your questions.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Jake inclined his head, doing his best not to smile because he had found a way to make her d
o as he asked. ‘Concentrate on any files he has for his leading ladies and gentlemen. Specifically Verity Aspin, Michael Danton and Cecelia Fortescue.’

  ‘I don’t think I will find anything, Jake.’ Olivia shook her curls to reinforce her point. ‘Hubert took over the house in Belgravia whilst I was incarcerated, probably assuming he would be able to reside there in his guise as Tom’s guardian when I was hanged for a crime I did not commit.’ She looked angry and upset. ‘Anyway, as I said before, he had access to all of Marcus’s things. I am perfectly sure he helped himself to a lot of valuable trinkets that I have not been able to find since my release.’

  ‘And yet he did not find what he was looking for. If he did, it follows it is not him who has been looking for it now. And if he does have it, he has not used it to his advantage. I find that hard to believe because we know just how hard pressed he is.’

  ‘Perhaps he has been abducted because whoever is looking for this mythical evidence thinks he knows where it is, or can gain access to it.’ She paled. ‘Through me.’

  Jake nodded, his expression grim. ‘Precisely.’

  If he expected Olivia to wilt at this discovery, he was to be disappointed. Instead, she considered the matter for a moment and then brightened considerably.

  ‘You are quite wrong, Jake. Goodness alone knows, I have no love for Hubert or Margaret. They thought Marcus becoming a theatrical agent would undermine the Grantley name and the family’s standing in the eyes of the aristocracy. They really are the most frightful snobs and care only about society’s opinion of them.’ Olivia made it clear what she thought of that attitude by wrinkling her pert little nose. ‘They applied to me, hoping that I would support them and try and persuade Marcus to have a change of heart. I declined, aware that he wouldn’t listen to me—even if I agreed that his occupation was unfitting, which I did not. Times are changing and those who do not change with them will be left behind. Anyway, Margaret accused me of…well, let us just say that she and I have never seen eye to eye.’