With Good Grace

by Wendy Soliman

  ‘Parker assures me that you are an honourable man,’ Jake said, getting straight to the point. ‘We believe—in fact we know—that Sir Hubert has abducted a child and is holding him somewhere in Whitechapel; somewhere close by. It is of the utmost importance that we find him before the child is harmed, or worse. You are our only hope.’

  Norris was quiet for a moment or two, then appeared to reach a decision. ‘I came by here yesterday morning,’ he said. ‘I was not supposed to be here but I had left my drawing supplies. I’m something of an artist, you see, and I occupy my spare time that way. I went into the office and heard Sir Hubert talking to someone in the warehouse. I was curious because it was a woman and I couldn’t think what call she would have to be there. Anyway, I heard him call her Molly and she fitted the description you gave me earlier,’ he added, turning towards Parker. ‘That’s why I thought you were genuine, at first.’

  ‘Sorry about that,’ Parker said. ‘We were not sure if we could trust you.’

  Jake wondered how Molly had come to be there yesterday, then recalled that she had asked to change her afternoon off, presumably so that she could meet with Sir Hubert and take her instructions.

  ‘Did you overhear anything that might help us?’ he asked.

  ‘I heard Sir Hubert give the girl an address and, as you say, it’s close by; just a few streets away. He made her commit it to memory and repeat it back to him several times.’

  ‘Can you recall what it was?’ Jake asked, praying that the man’s memory was sharp.

  ‘That I can, my lord.’

  Jake slapped his shoulder once he had repeated it, then reached into his pocket to produce one of his cards. He handed it to Norris. ‘Call upon me at Grosvenor Square tomorrow,’ he said. ‘I reward loyalty and can find you employment more worthy of your talents.’ He offered Norris his hand to seal the bargain. Norris looked surprised to have an earl wishing to shake his hand, but took it in a firm grasp. ‘One more thing. Can you send a lad to the address on that card? Have him ask for Reed. Reed is to send three of my footmen to the address you just gave me and they are to bring a carriage. With great good fortune we will have prisoners to transport.’

  ‘Very well,’ Norris said calmly.

  ‘Good man. Come, Parker,’ Jake said. ‘There is not a moment to lose.’

  ҉

  Olivia walked into a tiny room overcrowded with four adults in occupation of it. It was in a state of advanced disrepair, mould growing on the walls, windows grimy and cracked; an empty fireplace, an unpleasant odour and an air of disuse. There was no sign of Tom but she had to believe he was in that hell-hole somewhere. Her gaze swivelled between Hubert and Lady Marchant, still astonished to discover that they were working together. But not as surprised by that revelation as Molly appeared to be.

  ‘Here, who’s this woman, my dear?’ she asked Hubert, placing a propriety hand on his sleeve as she wrinkled her brow in suspicion.

  ‘This is Lady Marchant, with whom we have an agreement,’ Hubert replied. ‘You have been a very clever girl and obtained her letters for her, I feel absolutely sure.’

  Molly beamed, apparently satisfied with that explanation, whereas a dozen questions sprang to Olivia’s mind, none of which she bothered to voice. ‘Course I have,’ Molly said casually. ‘No trouble. Told you there wouldn’t be.’

  ‘Hand them over, if you please, Olivia,’ Hubert said politely.

  Olivia hugged the file tighter to her bosom. ‘Only when I have Tom.’

  ‘Go and get the child, Molly,’ Hubert said, ‘and let us be done with the matter.’

  Olivia tried to quell her erratic breathing as Molly disappeared into the back of the cottage. She had nothing to fear, she told herself repeatedly. She would grab Tom, then throw the fake file at them and run. It was as simple as that. And if one of them happened to catch up with her, she would use her hat pin, or her defensive skills, to protect them both. Somehow. The important thing was to pretend passivity, and not rile Hubert.

  ‘Charming accommodation,’ she said, wondering why her mouth and brain never seemed to be in accord with one another. ‘A perfect backdrop for a blackmailer. How the mighty have fallen.’

  Hubert glowered at her, but there was also a feral light in his eye as his gaze lingered on her tight-fitting breeches that made her skin crawl. ‘And whose fault is that?’

  ‘Certainly not mine.’

  ‘Don’t think I am unaware of your activities, you little whore! You were quick enough to open your legs for your fancy earl, but I was not good enough for you.’ Hubert spat on the boarded floor, his expression a combination of disgust, jealousy and desire. ‘We could have had it all, you and I, yet you turned your pert little nose up at me like I was beneath your notice.’

  Olivia was appalled by the fact that he still carried a torch for her. She had always known that he desired her, despite the fact that she was his brother’s wife. Mind you, when that brother died, he didn’t lift a finger to help her, even though he knew she was innocent of involvement in his death. He was more interested in inheriting Marcus’s wealth, or managing it until Tom reached his majority; the vile, self-centred opportunist!

  Olivia adjured herself to forget the past, put Hubert’s lustful intentions to one side, and concentrate on the here and now. She noticed in the periphery of her vision that Molly was lingering behind the door, listening and frowning. Perhaps she could use that knowledge to her advantage; open Molly’s eyes to the true character of the man she had thrown her lot in with.

  ‘So you turned Molly’s head with empty promises and a little flattery,’ Olivia replied conversationally. ‘Does she really think you will keep her with you once she has outlived her usefulness? Well, I dare say she does; she is rather naïve.’ Lady Marchant had yet to open her mouth, but was following the conversation between Hubert and Olivia with interest, a slight frown creasing her brow. ‘Apart from anything else, she appears to have overlooked the fact that you already have a wife and children.’

  ‘Molly will do as she is told.’

  Don’t count on it.

  ‘Why did you join forces with him?’ Olivia asked, sending Hubert a scathing glance and focusing her attention on Lady Marchant.

  ‘I just want my letters back,’ she said softly.

  ‘And you were responsible for both Marcus and a night watchman losing their lives in your search for them?’

  ‘No,’ Lady Marchant replied decisively. ‘I had nothing to do with that at all.’

  Astonishingly, Olivia believed her. She turned towards Hubert. ‘It was you,’ she said aghast as the truth dawned. ‘You had your own brother killed. I did not think you quite so dissipated as that.’

  ‘It should not have happened,’ Hubert replied, not a flicker of emotion passing across his handsome face. ‘If we had stayed at the party at the theatre, as we were supposed to, then no one would have been hurt. If Marcus had not taken that whore Verity upstairs in front of you and caused you to argue with him, the men I hired would have escaped with the documents I set them to look for.’

  Olivia shook her head, too disgusted to speak. Hubert really did seem to think he was not culpable.

  ‘I knew nothing of this,’ Lady Marchant said. ‘I will admit that your husband and I…well, if you have seen the letters I foolishly wrote to him at the height of our grand passion, then I do not need to tell you what happened between us. I am very sorry about that. He promised me that he could help my career. Since he already had so many famous actors under his management and everyone wanted to be with him, I was flattered. I did not realise at the time that he attracted them in the first place by such underhand tactics.’

  ‘He told you about that?’ Olivia asked, unable to hide her surprise.

  She shrugged. ‘He seemed proud of his achievements.’ Olivia nodded, perfectly sure that he had been. ‘Anyway, I do not expect you to believe me but it was the first, the only time, I had known a man, until I met my husband.’

  ‘Marcus coul
d be very charming, very persuasive,’ Olivia admitted, aware that Molly was still listening avidly. No one seemed to recall why she had left the room, or that she was even still in the cottage. Aware that Tom must be, or Molly would not have been sent to fetch him, Olivia would prefer it if he was not brought in immediately. If Lady Marchant had no violent proclivities, it made a big difference to her chances of escape.

  ‘Even so…’

  ‘I was not aware that your letters existed until a few days ago,’ Olivia said. ‘It was my intention to return them to you. All of this was unnecessary. As a matter of interest, why did you become involved with Hubert?’

  ‘When your husband died I lived in fear of my letters surfacing. When they did not, I assumed, rightly it would appear, that you did not know about them or had not found them. As time went on I began to relax, thinking I was safe. If someone intended to use them against me, they would have done so by then.’ She inhaled and then released her captured breath slowly. ‘Marchant’s children hate me, find me an embarrassment, and constantly seek ways to undermine my position. They think I married their father for his money and status, seeming to overlook the fact that none of them have done an honest day’s work in their lives and rely upon his very generous nature.’

  ‘I can imagine,’ Olivia replied, well aware how badly some families behaved when large sums of money were involved; especially her own.

  ‘Oh, I will not deny that his position and wealth attracted me at first, but we have grown very close, I believe I make him happy and that, I am sure, is what his children cannot abide.’

  Olivia nodded sympathetically.

  ‘Marchant adores me, but if those letters were ever to come to his attention or, worse, fall into the hands of his children, it would destroy him.’ Tears glistened on her thick lashes. ‘I am willing to do whatever is necessary to spare him that pain. So, when Sir Hubert contacted me and said they were in his possession I was, as you can imagine, beside myself with worry. But I had the presence of mind to ask him to read one of them to me, and when he could not do so I realised he did not actually have them.’

  Olivia nodded. ‘He had heard about them from Marcus, I suppose.’

  ‘Yes, but Marcus didn’t use them. He didn’t need to. He was very successful by then and had well-known actors beating a path to his door voluntarily, begging him to represent them. I was no longer an actress at that point, having left the stage to marry. I asked him to return the letters. He did not, but promised me they were safe.’

  Typical Marcus, Olivia thought disgustedly. He could not quite bring himself to do the honourable thing, just in case times became hard and he needed to use the letters for his own benefit.

  ‘What’s the point of raking this over?’ Hubert asked, kicking at a loose floorboard. ‘Time’s a wasting. Where has become of that silly girl and the child?’

  Olivia noticed Molly bridle at his description of her but she did not move. Olivia took a step to the right so that Hubert would not see Molly’s hiding place if he changed position.

  ‘And so,’ Olivia said. ‘You offered Hubert money, a great deal of money I would imagine, in return for the letters.’

  ‘He assured me that he had access to them and I believed him because I assumed they were in your household. I did not anticipate that he would have someone break into Barber’s office and that someone else would lose their life.’ Lady Marchant looked genuinely distressed. ‘That poor man. I have sent an anonymous donation to his family.’

  Olivia nodded her approval. In Lady Marchant’s position, she would have done the exact same thing.

  ‘And now this.’ Lady Marchant spread her hands. ‘I was promised faithfully that the letters would be in his hand today. Naturally, I did not believe it and was not prepared to pay a penny until I felt assured I had every single one of them, so I insisted upon being here myself when Sir Hubert took possession of them. But, I beg you to believe, I was not aware that he had restored to kidnapping a child in order to do so.’

  ‘No, I believe you did not. Anyway, it was unnecessary. As I already explained, I fully intended to return your property to you.’

  Lady Marchant reached out a hand to Olivia. Olivia took it in hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze, completely convinced that Lady Marchant told the truth. Presumably, after all that Molly had just heard, she would be totally disillusioned with Hubert too. She glanced over her shoulder, her gaze clashed with Molly’s and the girl appeared to hesitate. Then, to Olivia’s intense disappointment, she made her decision, turned on her heel and disappeared.

  A tense silence ensued. Although Olivia sensed that Lady Marchant was now in her corner, she also knew that Hubert was too desperate to let either of them go. She expected him at any moment to lunge for her and extract the letters from inside her tunic by force. How he would react when he found they were not the ones he sought was anyone’s guess, but Olivia knew it would not end well. Hubert, just like Marcus, was a vindictive man with a vicious temper when crossed.

  Olivia’s heart lifted when Molly returned to the room with Tom cradled in her arms. But her joy was short lived when she realised her child was totally still. Her heart stalled. He could not be dead; he simply could not be!

  ‘Give him to me!’ She reached out her arms and snatched Tom from Molly’s grasp. He was breathing, thank the Lord, but even when Olivia gently shook him, he did not wake. ‘What have you done to him?’ she asked sharply.

  ‘Just a little laudanum rubbed on his gums,’ Molly said with total unconcern. ‘The brat would not stop crying, or asking for you.’

  ‘You drugged my child?’ Olivia felt as though she might very well explode with anger. ‘You could have killed him!’ Olivia smoothed the curls from her son’s face and kissed his brow. ‘What sort of demons are you?’

  ‘The letters,’ Hubert said, sighing with impatience. ‘Come along, we don’t have all day.’

  Before Olivia could decide what to do, Molly lunged for her and pulled the file free of Olivia’s tunic. She could not prevent her without dropping Tom so did not even try. She sent a warning glance towards Lady Marchant, not sure what good it would do her. When Hubert realised he had been duped, there was no telling how he would react, and Lady Marchant needed to be prepared.

  ‘Here we are, my dear,’ Molly said with a superior smirk. ‘All’s well that ends well.’

  Hubert smiled vaingloriously as he took the papers from her but his smile quickly vanished as he flipped through them. ‘What the devil…’ His face blazed with anger focused upon Molly. ‘You stupid, stupid girl! Can you not get anything right?’

  ‘You asked me to get the letters and I did!’ Molly cried indignantly.

  ‘I told you to check and make sure they were the right ones. I warned you, told you repeatedly, that her ladyship here would try to gull you.’

  ‘I couldn’t look. Didn’t have time. Someone was coming and I couldn’t be seen or we would have been prevented from leaving that house.’

  Hubert’s eyes blazed. ‘One thing, one tiny thing I asked you to do for me and you can’t even manage to get that right.’

  ‘We still have the child,’ Molly whined. ‘Don’t be angry with me, my love.’ She clawed at Hubert’s arm but he shook her off like an irritating fly. ‘We have come such a long way together. Have such plans. Besides, it was me as took all the risks.’

  ‘If you still think Hubert intends to take you away with him, Molly, then you are deluding yourself,’ Olivia said, checking Tom every second or two to see if there was any change in his condition; desperate to get him to a doctor. She would have fought her way past Hubert and Molly if she did not have Tom’s welfare to take into account, so the next best thing would be to drive a wedge between them and slip away during the ensuing melee. ‘Surely it has occurred to you by now that he was using you?’

  ‘We love each other,’ Molly said stoutly, her voice wobbling with uncertainty.

  Olivia tossed her head. ‘Hubert does not love anyone expect himsel
f.’

  She turned her attention to the seething individual pacing the small amount of space available to him in the cramped room, forcing the rest of them to fall back against the dank walls. Anger and bitterness rendered him ugly and Olivia could sense him struggling to think of way to recover his position. He would not succeed because there was no way. Besides, Hubert was not blessed with a sharp mind and thinking was something of a labour for him.

  ‘It’s over, Hubert,’ she said firmly. ‘And you have lost. Again. I do not have the letters. They are locked in Lord Torbay’s safe and you will never get your grubby hands on them. Lady Marchant will not pay you a penny because she knows you don’t have them and any rumours you start cannot harm her without the proof to back them up.’ It was now, Olivia realised, the unlikely combination of her and Lady Marchant ranged against Hubert and Molly. There was nothing to prevent them from walking out. ‘Come, Lady Marchant,’ she said. ‘It’s time to leave.’

  ‘No one leaves until I say they can!’ Hubert roared, physically blocking the path to the door.

  ‘Really?’ Olivia arched an insolent brow. ‘How do you intend to stop us? Even you must realise there is nothing to be gained from keeping us here. However, to appease your anxiety, I will make a bargain with you. I give you my word that if you allow us to walk away then nothing more will be said about kidnapping Tom. And as to your arranging the break-in at Barber’s office and being responsible for Marcus’s death, I have no proof.’ Olivia crossed the fingers of the hand that supported Tom’s weight. For the first time in her life she fully intended to break her solemn word. No one, but no one, drugged her child and got away with it! ‘Lady Marchant would not want the world to know that she was here and there are no other witnesses.’

  Lady Marchant nodded emphatically. ‘Exactly so,’ she said.

  ‘You seem to overlook the fact that you have interfered with my plans once too often,’ Hubert snarled. ‘And I have nothing left to lose. However, if you and the brat were to disappear,’ he said, nodding towards Tom sleeping in Olivia’s arms, ‘all that was Marcus’s would become mine. Ought to have been mine by right. I was as much responsible for the success of the theatrical agency as he was.’