Frost sighed, as though less than pleased with what he was about to say. “Have a look in the windows.”
“Are you serious?”
“We could walk in the front door, but in my limited experience, that method rarely produces results.”
In truth, Elijah had never done anything like this. Not even in his university years. “Interesting. Why don’t you lead the way and I’ll follow?”
Frost smiled. “My pleasure.”
He strode forward as if he knew exactly what he was about, leaving Elijah to hurry to catch up with him. To Elijah’s surprise, he walked past the building to the end of the street.
“I thought we were going to have a look,” Elijah said when Frost paused on the street corner.
“Let us see if they have windows in the rear of the building. Fewer eyes on us that way.”
“Of course.” The suggestion was logical, and this time, Elijah led the way, determined to hold his own on this outing. “Did Victor have any guess as to what the delivery contained?”
“Might’ve been nothing more than empty bottles, but he thought it could’ve been a supply of whatever they’re adding to the alcohol. From what he’s learned, they receive different additives in small quantities.”
“That would make sense,” Elijah said. “If they have to move or the police choose to pay a visit, hiding their supplies would be easier.”
Frost nodded. “That was my thinking as well.”
The alleyway was filthier than Elijah could’ve imagined. His expression of disgust must’ve shown on his face.
“Don’t bother to speculate what we’re stepping in,” Frost warned. “And be certain not to breathe through your nose.”
“Right. I’ll do my best to avoid the larger piles.”
“And the slippery ones. Those bother me the most.”
“Based on the stench—”
Frost paused long enough to glare at him.
“Right.” Though tempted to avert his gaze from what they walked through, he didn’t dare for fear he’d land in the worst of it.
Soon they reached what appeared to be the rear of the building. After a glance at Frost, Elijah approached the brick building. But the windows were as filthy as the alley in which they stood.
Other than vague outlines of people moving about inside, Elijah had no idea what business was being conducted in the building.
Frost had no better luck at the opposite window in which he looked. “Damn.”
Other than entering the building, Elijah had no idea how to proceed. “Any suggestions?”
“None that are appealing.”
“What is the less appealing one?”
Frost scowled. “You won’t like it.”
“Try me.”
“We attempt to open the door, hope we can gain entrance, have a quick look about, then pretend we’ve got the wrong place when someone confronts us.”
“You’re right. I don’t like it.”
“Do you have a better idea?” Frost lifted a brow.
“No.” Elijah pondered their limited options. “Would it be wise for one of us to return to the front and do the same from that entrance with the hope that will double our chances of success?”
“That might work.” Frost gave him a steady look, then glanced down at the muck in which they stood. “I’m guessing you’d prefer the front entrance.”
“Excellent idea. I’ll see you inside.” Elijah carefully made his way out of the alley, pausing to wipe his boots on the walkway before continuing. His valet would not be pleased when he returned home.
Walking quickly, he soon arrived at the door and tried the knob, only to find it locked. He knocked on the door before he lost his nerve, trying to prepare a valid reason for his arrival. It was imperative that he entered so he could look around. Having someone close the door in his face would do little good.
Heart thudding dully, he knocked again, as though impatient for someone to answer.
At last, the door opened to reveal a man with a pock-marked face a head shorter than Elijah but broader. Much broader.
Elijah placed his hand on the open door and shoved. “Where’s Jones? I need to speak to him at once.”
Too late, he realized he should’ve used a different accent—anything to cover his normal educated drawl.
“Hey,” the man protested, not releasing the door. “What do ye think ye’re doin’?”
“Lookin’ fer Jones. Where is he?” Elijah moved forward, pleased when the other man stepped back. He’d made it past the threshold but could see little from there. He needed to go farther inside the building, or all this was for nothing.
A loud noise sounded from the rear, and the man turned to look.
Elijah took advantage of his distraction and stepped around him. An odd aroma filled the space. Racks of bottles stood on one side, tables on the other. Large glass bottles contained a liquid, but he had no idea what it might be. He hoped Frost was having better luck.
The man who’d answered the door spun back around to realize Elijah was inside. He grabbed Elijah by the arm to stop his progress. “What are ye doin’? No one invited ye inside.”
“What was that noise?”
“None of yer business. Now get on with ye.”
“I must speak with Jones first.”
“Who the heck is Jones?”
“He’s here somewhere.” Elijah took another step forward, forcing the man to release his hold.
Another loud noise and several shouts filled the air. Again, the man turned to look, and Elijah rushed past him. He got a glimpse of Frost arguing with one of the men near the rear door but left him to fend for himself while he had a look around.
He had only a few moments before his arm was grabbed once more.
“I said get out,” the man snarled.
Elijah jerked his arm free but when another man came to stand beside the other, he realized the opportunity was lost.
“I must have the wrong place.” He glanced in Frost’s direction to see him being shoved out the rear entrance. Knowing the viscount was safe, Elijah backed toward the door, ignoring the curses that followed his departure.
He walked quickly around the street corner, relieved when Frost approached.
“Any luck?” Elijah asked. He hadn’t seen anything of interest inside the building.
Frost reached into his suit coat and pulled forth a small glass bottle filled with liquid. “I don’t know what it is, but it might help.”
“I’m impressed.”
“Your interruption created enough distraction to allow me to take the bottle, so consider it a team effort.”
Pleased he’d helped in some way, he couldn’t help but grin, especially now that they were both safe and their efforts had paid off. “Is this the sort of thing you and Captain Hawke do in your spare time?”
Frost scoffed. “Only when forced. Difficult on the nerves.”
“Definitely not anything I look forward to repeating.”
“With luck, we won’t have to,” Frost said. He eyed the busy street with something akin to dread. “Shall we depart before they notice we took a bottle?”
Elijah glanced over his shoulder, alarmed at the thought. “Lead the way.”
Within a few minutes, they’d managed to find a hansom cab dropping off another passenger.
“What do you think is in the bottle?” Elijah asked after they were settled in the cab and safely down the street.
Frost retrieved it from his pocket and held it up to the light. The liquid was clear, the bottle unmarked. “I have no idea.” He pulled the cork free and gingerly smelled. With a shake of his head, he handed it to Elijah. “Any guesses?”
Elijah smelled it as well but found it had little odor. “I have no idea. Do you think we could have someone with expertise examine it?”
“I’ll see who I can find to have a look.”
“Without knowing what it contains, our next step is uncertain, and time is running out before the next ba
ll.” Elijah shook his head. “I didn’t realize how difficult it would be to end this problem.”
“The biggest problems are rarely easy to fight. That’s when you know they’re worthy of your time.”
The cab wound its way through the busy streets toward Frost’s residence. As they neared, Elijah’s thoughts returned to Lillian. “How is Lillian?”
Frost leveled him a look that made him decidedly uncomfortable. “I’m not certain. She claims to be well but based on her behavior, I would disagree.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” He met Frost’s gaze once again. “Relationships aren’t easy.”
“No, they are not. I will tell you what I shared with Lillian.”
Elijah’s body tensed in anticipation.
“I can only share what I realized when Julia and I were coming to know each other. My life before her was limited in more ways than just where I spent my days. She made me consider doing things and feeling things that I wouldn’t have otherwise done. But those experiences made me a better man. If anyone encourages you to become a better person, more than you were before, then that is special and worth fighting for.”
Elijah couldn’t help but wonder what Lillian’s reaction to Frost’s remarks had been. He knew what his was—he felt different when he was with her, a better person. She made him want to move mountains. She’d encouraged him to deal with his mother’s grief differently, to share memories of his father. Already that had helped his mother deal with grief and eased her desire for oblivion. And somewhere in that process, Lillian had helped him face his own grief rather than bury it.
“Thank you for sharing your experience. The duties and responsibilities of my position are like having a third party in any relationship.”
“But they are part of you and cannot be set aside.”
“Exactly.” They had nearly arrived at Frost’s. Though Elijah longed to speak with Lillian, he realized the next step was up to her. He knew what they had was worth fighting for, but he couldn’t do that until she made the first move.
He bid Frost goodbye, but the longing he felt for Lillian remained. He dearly hoped she decided she wanted a life with him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Hartshorn shavings are the horns of the male deer scraped down. They are then boiled in the worts of ale and give out a substance of a thickish nature like jelly, which is said to prevent intoxicating liquor from becoming sour.”
~The Seven Curses of London
Lillian closed The Seven Curses of London, shocked at what its pages revealed. Oliver had given her the book when he’d noted her restlessness, stating if she chose to remain in London, she should better understand the entire city, not just the people she’d met thus far.
The book described the diversity of London, including the good and the bad. The ton was only a small part of it. And quite different from the rest.
She’d read the chapter on drunkenness twice, hardly able to believe so many different items could be added to alcohol to either preserve it or make its intoxicating effect stronger. Some were enough to make her ill at the thought of consuming them. ‘A thickish nature like jelly?’ The description made her grimace.
Disturbing information filled the entire book and had followed her to bed the past two nights. Her dreams featured neglected children and fallen women alongside thieves, beggars, and gamblers, all with their hands outstretched toward her.
She shuddered at the image, hoping to avoid another such unsettled night. The idea of so many people in need was disturbing enough, let alone the thought of some taking advantage of those kind enough to offer help. Methods of aiding the less fortunate weren’t clear, not when there were just as many people determined to benefit from the situation.
That made her admire what her brother had done all the more. He and Captain Hawke had saved many young girls and boys when they’d managed to put away one of London’s worst criminals the previous year. And now Oliver was helping Elijah with another problem, from what little her brother had shared. She wished she could’ve convinced him to tell her more.
A footman tapped on the open door of the drawing room. “Miss Violet Fairchild to see you, my lady.”
Lillian rose with a genuine smile as her friend entered. “Violet, how lovely of you to call.”
“You haven’t attended the last few functions, so I thought I’d make certain all was well.”
“That’s so kind of you. I’m pleased you did.” She gestured to the settee. “Join me.”
Violet’s gaze caught on the book Lillian had just set aside. “Are you enjoying it?”
“Yes and no,” Lillian admitted with a chuckle.
“An apt description.” Violet smiled. “I know just how you feel. Fascinating information but difficult to accept.”
“I go back and forth between outrage and disgust. I’m determined to help yet too overwhelmed to know where to begin.”
“My sister, Lettie, who married Captain Hawke, started with the first chapter—neglected children. I’m not even certain she read beyond that until she started her quest.”
“That’s a clever way to make a decision.”
“At the time, I didn’t think of her as clever so much as annoying. She spoke about the book until she made us all cringe at the mention of it.”
“It is very compelling. The author has a way with words that pulls you in. Added to that are the statistics and facts and personal accounts.”
“Quite. It should be required reading for everyone who lives in England.” Violet gave her a pointed look. “The true reason I came by is because I heard a terrible rumor.”
“What might that be?”
“That you’ve decided to return home. Please tell me it’s not true.”
“Lady Margaret thinks I should.” Lillian was still uncomfortable when she thought of the encounter and annoyed with herself for how much she’d permitted it to upset her. “Why is it we tend to listen to the negative things people say but dismiss the positive?”
Violet scoffed. “She’s the one who told me you were leaving, but I know better than to believe anything she says. She’s merely trying to eliminate competition in her pursuit of Burbridge. Not that she’d have a chance to win him even if she were the only lady in London.”
“But she is a marquess’s daughter.”
“That makes no difference. Burbridge is not only handsome but intelligent and kind. He doesn’t deserve someone like her. She’d make him miserable before they had a chance to say their vows. When she learns of the steps he’s taking to make a difference for those less fortunate, she’ll be most displeased.”
“He is?” A warmth expanded in her chest at the idea.
“He’s given a substantial sum to Adair House which was started by the Earl of Adair, Captain Hawke’s older brother. It specializes in providing a temporary place to stay and a helping hand to those in need of rescue.”
That pleased Lillian more than she could say. Elijah was a man of honor through and through.
“I know for a fact Lady Margaret doesn’t approve of such things,” Violet continued. “She told me the poor are incapable of improving their lives so giving them handouts is a waste.”
“Truly?” That sort of attitude was unacceptable in Lillian’s opinion.
“You can see why they’d never suit.” Violet gave her a pointed look. “So what are you waiting for?”
“I don’t understand.” Yet she thought she knew to what Violet referred.
“Why don’t you pursue Burbridge?”
Lillian shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “A duke’s life is complicated, as is a duchess’s.”
Violet’s exasperation would’ve been amusing if it hadn’t been directed at Lillian. “Whose life isn’t?”
She supposed she hadn’t considered that.
Violet leaned forward. “Do you know what I see?” Without waiting for an answer, she continued, “His presence puts color in your cheeks and a sparkle in your eye, much the same response Dalia h
as when she’s with Rutland.”
No purpose would be served in denying it. Did her physical reaction mean more than she realized?
“A response such as that doesn’t come along often and shouldn’t be ignored,” Violet added.
“That’s true. However, I wish we were different people, without titles and responsibilities. Mayhap then the situation would be clearer.”
“I think every woman who marries is nervous. There can be no denying it’s a life-changing event. Who wouldn’t be concerned? But don’t allow nerves to steal a chance for happiness.”
In truth, Lillian had been too focused on worrying to appreciate thoughts of happiness. Did she truly have a chance of that with Elijah, despite his title? What did Elijah feel? Had her behavior already deterred him? Her heart stuttered with concern at the thought.
“It’s hard to believe I’m qualified even to consider being a duchess.” The words slipped out before Lillian could stop them.
“Who would make a better one?”
Lillian rose to pace as anxiety filled her. “Someone with more experience, who is better able to navigate the situations a woman in that position faces.”
“Such as?” Lillian turned to face Violet as she stood and drew near. “No one has experience as a duchess or any other title or position until they actually become one. I would hazard a guess that even Burbridge struggled with his responsibilities of being a duke after the death of his father.”
Lillian frowned at the thought. “I highly doubt it.” The idea of Elijah struggling with anything seemed absurd.
“Ask him. Talk with him about your concerns.”
Could she do that? If not, she had no business considering a life with him. She wanted a marriage of respect and friendship, and dare she hope for love?
Violet sighed when Lillian didn’t respond, her frustration obvious. “I’ve always thought life teaches us as we go along, assuming we’re wise enough to listen and willing to grow. Are you?”
Daring the Duke (The Seven Curses of London Book 7) Page 25
