Pride and Pleasure

by Sylvia Day

  Lynd’s nose reddened, swiftly followed by his eyes.

  A knock came from the open doorway. Jasper looked over his shoulder. Patrick Crouch stood on the threshold with the top of his head nearly touching the lintel. “There is a woman ’ere to see you. I told ’er you weren’t seeing anyone today, but she mentioned Lord Montague and I thought I should tell you.”

  “Is she still here?”

  “Aye.”

  Jasper moved to the chair by the door where he’d tossed his coat earlier.

  Lynd cleared his throat. “I’ll come down with you.”

  They descended to the ground floor and took up positions in Jasper’s study—Jasper leaned into the front of his desk, while Lynd settled into a wingback with one ankle set atop the opposite knee. In short order, a petite brunette entered the room. She was lovely, with sable-dark hair and cornflower blue eyes. Her back was ramrod straight and her head held high. She declined to pass her fur-lined cape and muff to the butler, and spent a long moment sweeping the room from one end to the other with an examining glance.

  Finally, she returned her attention to Jasper and said, “Mr. Bond, I presume.”

  “Yes.”

  “Mrs. Francesca Maybourne.” She brushed off the immaculate damask of his settee with a gloved hand before perching delicately on the edge. She fluffed her rain-dampened skirts with little regard for Jasper’s rug.

  Lynd rolled his eyes.

  Jasper crossed his arms. “This is my associate, Mr. Lynd. How can we help you, Mrs. Maybourne?”

  “I trust I have your discretion,” she said in a clipped tone.

  “I would not be successful in my profession if I weren’t discreet.”

  She weighed his assurance for a second, then nodded. “My sister is in trouble, Mr. Bond. I’m at my wits’ end trying to help her.”

  “Can you elaborate?”

  She met his gaze directly. “Eloisa is young and impetuous. She has yet to learn how to deny herself anything. Recently, she began a flirtation with the Earl of Montague. I thought it was ridiculous, but relatively harmless. After all, my sister is a married woman.”

  Jasper’s brows rose.

  “However, it has come to my attention that Lord Montague is a scoundrel of the worst sort.” Mrs. Maybourne’s nose wrinkled, which softened her sharpness somewhat. “My sister came to me this morning in tears. It seems Lord Montague asked her for a token of her affection. I was horrified when she told me this! To give irrefutable evidence of an indiscretion…I cannot imagine what she was thinking.”

  “What was this trinket?”

  “A sapphire and diamond necklace, sir. One of great value. And if that were not bad enough, it’s a family heirloom on her husband’s side. There is no doubt he will notice its loss.”

  “Has she asked for the necklace back?”

  “Many times. Prior to today, Lord Montague said he would return it. Then, this morning, he said he intended to sell it. He gave her the name of the jeweler and said she could contact the proprietor any time after three o’clock this afternoon to repurchase it.” Mrs. Maybourne sighed and wrung her hands. “The necklace is worth a small fortune, sir. There is no way for her to obtain the funds necessary to reclaim it without her husband becoming aware.”

  Jasper’s lips pursed. He glanced at Lynd. Montague had devised a way to obtain the funds needed to buy back his marker. Yet by some twist of fate, the knowledge had been brought to Jasper. It seemed he was destined to destroy Montague.

  He looked back at Mrs. Maybourne. “You want me to retrieve the necklace before he pawns it.”

  “Yes.”

  “Perhaps he already has.”

  She shook her head, causing thick glossy curls to sway around her piquant face and long, slender neck. “I pray that’s not the case. I approached a Runner, but because a peer is involved, he refused the commission. Mr. Bell recommended you, sir. In the interim, he ascertained that the necklace had not yet been brought into the store as of an hour ago. He agreed to watch the premises until you make an appearance. Perhaps you will arrive too late. I won’t hold anyone but my sister responsible for such a lamentable end. But if God is kind, you will precede Montague and find a way to bring this debacle to a successful resolution.”

  “This is no easy task you set,” Jasper warned.

  “My sister cannot afford to buy the necklace, Mr. Bond. But she and I are capable of affording you.”

  “Bond.” Lynd uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. “May I have a word with you?”

  “Time is of the essence!” she cried.

  Lynd managed a ghost of a smile. “It won’t take but a moment.”

  Jasper followed Lynd out to the foyer. “What are the odds that this should fall in my lap?”

  “Tony Bell is a good man. Certainly an excellent source of new business.” Lynd stopped in the center of the circular rug and turned around. “Let me manage this task for you. You cannot take this on today, yet the opportunity isn’t one you can allow to slip through your fingers.”

  Growling, Jasper ran a hand through his hair and damned the timing of this unexpected boon. “I cannot send you out to accost a peer. If things go awry, the penalty could be your life.”

  “That’s what masks are for, my boy.” Lynd grinned. “I’ll put on that suit you have for me, and add a wig. If Montague attempts to identify me later, he’ll describe a very different fellow. With any luck, I will even arrive at the wedding on time.”

  “Montague is my cross to bear.”

  “Bloody hell.” Lynd shook his head. “You know how I feel about this vendetta you wage—it cannot help your mother now. That said, you are so close to achieving your final aim, and I would rest easier knowing you’ve put the past behind you. But I’m not certain you can do so until you see this matter of Montague’s property through to the end.”

  Jasper’s head fell forward. For all of his life, the one thing he’d needed was justice for his mother. And now, with the end in sight after years of planning, he could no longer deny he wanted Eliza more. He wanted her so badly that when faced with the choice of foiling Montague or getting married, the latter was the event he couldn’t bear to miss. Even while the thought of Montague slipping through his fingers caused his gut to knot and sweat to mist his skin, the response was only a shadow of what he felt when contemplating the loss of Eliza.

  Torn, he spoke gruffly. “I’m certain I will not rest easy until I’ve seen my plan through to the end. Montague’s ruination is all I have lived for, for so long. How can I abandon the cause in the final hour? How could I face my reflection in the mirror every morning, knowing I deserted my life’s goal only days before fruition?”

  “By having something else in your life more fulfilling,” Lynd posited. “You are young yet. There is a world out there to be explored. I know that’s what your mother would have wished for you.”

  A thought that had eluded Jasper previously came to him in that moment. Was it possible that the tutoring she’d secured for him had not been for his father’s benefit at all? Perhaps a secure and brighter future for her son had been the true aim.

  Regardless, it wasn’t his mother’s wishes—whatever they may have been—that decided him. He made his choice based on the instincts that had saved his life so many times before.

  “I cannot lose Eliza,” Jasper said with total, unequivocal conviction. With her, he had no sordid past. There was only the future, one he looked forward to and…needed. “If you can see to Montague, I’d be eternally grateful. As for myself, I have a wedding to attend.”

  “Right, then.” Gesturing toward the study, Lynd said, “You deal with the matter of the retainer and collect the necessary information. I’ll change my garments.”

  “Thank you.” Jasper clasped him on the shoulder.

  Lynd flushed. “Consider it a wedding gift. Now off with you. There is work to be done and vows to be spoken.”

  Jasper arrived at the Melville house precisely at three o’clock. Eliza del
ayed the donning of her wedding gown for his arrival and rushed to the lower floor to meet him. She came to a halt partway down the last flight of stairs, arrested by the sight of him. He’d dressed in the same garments he wore on the day they’d met, and the sentimentality of the gesture touched her so deeply her chest ached with it. His dark hair was slightly windblown and his cheekbones burnished by the cold. He was beautiful in every way. Flawless to her eyes.

  Smitten, she sighed. Jasper heard. His gaze lifted to find her, and she watched his expression change, becoming fiercely focused.

  “Eliza.”

  She barely heard her name, but she felt it. She rushed down the remaining steps and stopped a few feet away from him. “How are you?”

  “Better, now that I’m with you.”

  Eliza gestured toward the parlor, then led the way. As always, she knew he followed even though he moved silently. She sat, and he took a seat beside her on the settee.

  They were to be married in an hour. She felt more joy than apprehension about that.

  “I am so glad you came early.” She fought the urge to reach for his hand. “I’ve been worried about you since we parted last night.”

  He nodded. “Montague is very much like his father. The manner in which he spoke was difficult to tolerate.”

  “His father…?”

  “I’ve come to you now because we have something to discuss before the wedding, something you must know before we say our vows to one another. I can only pray you’ll still have me, once the truth is out.”

  Eliza was made wary by his tone and her own lingering anxiety from Reynolds’ visit. “You can tell me anything. I want to support you, Jasper. You no longer have to carry your burdens alone.”

  His dark eyes were contemplative and somber. “It’s my goal to commit myself to you unencumbered. I am working diligently in that regard.”

  She was waiting patiently for him to continue when a violent pounding came to the front door. The sound echoed through the lower floor and brought them both to their feet.

  Somehow, without appearing to run, Robbins reached the entrance before they did. The butler opened the door and revealed one of Jasper’s crew, the handsome young man who’d escorted her to Jasper’s home the night she shared his bed. Aaron yanked off his hat when he saw Eliza. His wild eyes caused her alarm.

  Jasper quickly outdistanced her with his longer stride. “What is it?”

  “The store. It’s ablaze.”

  “Pennington’s?”

  Eliza’s heart lodged in her throat. “What is ablaze? What’s happening?”

  “Stay with her,” Jasper ordered, running down the front steps to where a footman held the reins to Aaron’s mount. Catching the pommel with both hands, he vaulted into the saddle and galloped away.

  As he disappeared from view, Eliza stared out the open doorway, confused and frightened. Aaron stepped into the house, panting. She caught him by a thick biceps before he moved past her. Their gazes met directly. “Where has he gone?”

  “To your property on Peony Way.”

  One meaningful glance at Robbins was all it took to set things in motion. Within twenty minutes a carriage was hitched and brought around front. During that time, Eliza spoke with Regina and Melville, explaining the delay and assuring them all would be well. She ignored admonishments to await Jasper’s return.

  “We’re to be married in half an hour,” she argued. “Regardless of the circumstances or location, I intend to be with him at that time.”

  Aaron followed her down the front steps to the street. “He wouldn’t want you there. For your own safety.”

  “While he risks his own for me?”

  “Bond is not unprepared for this event. I’m certain the situation will be well in hand before we arrive.”

  “Then he should have no cause for objection.” She pulled together the sides of her hastily donned pelisse and secured the buttons.

  Eliza was tying the ribbon to her bonnet when a familiar figure rode up to the house and drew to a halt.

  “Don’t tell me I missed the nuptials,” Westfield called out, pushing up the brim of his rakishly angled hat.

  “Mr. Bond and I will return shortly, my lord.” She accepted the footman’s assistance up the carriage steps. “Please see yourself inside. Lady Collingsworth will receive you.”

  The earl dismounted and approached, catching either side of her carriage’s doorframe with both hands and leaning in. All levity was gone from his features. “What has you so anxious?”

  “One of my properties has caught fire. Mr. Bond has gone on ahead.”

  “To Peony Way,” Westfield said.

  Eliza blinked, understanding that everyone had a piece of the puzzle she was missing. “Perhaps you should ride with me.”

  He nodded and climbed in. Aaron joined them, sharing the opposite squab with the earl.

  With a crack of the coachman’s whip, the carriage jolted forward.

  Her foot rapped an impatient staccato against the floorboards. “Why is the incident at the Peony property of surprise only to me?”

  Westfield explained. “The tenant you know as Mrs. Vanessa Pennington is, in truth, Miss Vanessa Chilcott. Bond suspected Miss Chilcott of intending to use her business relationship with you to create a financial liability on your part.”

  Eliza felt oddly still inside, her thoughts strangely quiet. She wondered if it was shock she felt or simply resignation. The nature of the Chilcott brood was well-known to her, but she’d thought herself beyond their avarice since her mother’s passing.

  “Such as a fire on the property,” she said without inflection. “If I was neglectful as a landlord or deliberately failed to address a safety issue in the building, she might have a claim then.”

  “Precisely. Bond believed you might pay a handsome settlement to keep your gender and evidence of your holdings out of the courts.”

  A cold fury moved through her. “But such a quiet transaction would no longer be likely to occur once I marry. Hence the need for her to act before the vows are spoken.”

  As they neared Peony Way, they found the street blocked off by wagons set perpendicular to the flow of traffic. Thick, black smoke mushroomed into the air and burned her airways. Eliza withdrew a kerchief from her reticule and held it against the lower half of her face.

  They alighted from the carriage at the makeshift barrier and traversed the rest of the distance on foot, pushing their way through crowds of onlookers who fought tenaciously to retain their vantages. Westfield led the way while Aaron brought up the rear, both men attempting to cushion her from the crush but being only moderately successful.

  When they neared the charred storefront, they found their way impeded by members of the fire brigade working on behalf of Eliza’s insurance company to minimize the damage. She explained who she was, her eyes on the building’s façade. Allowed to pass through, she searched the sea of people clogging the immediate area and spotted Jasper’s tall frame.

  “There.” She pointed.

  Westfield caught her elbow and shepherded her closer. When they were only a few feet away, the crowd parted and a cleared path appeared, revealing Jasper standing by Mrs. Penning—Miss Chilcott. The woman’s gown and apron were both singed and covered in ash. Her blond hair was darkened by soot, as was her face, which had a swelling bruise around her left eye. The resemblance to Eliza’s stepfather was so obvious, it would be impossible to miss if one was paying attention, which Eliza hadn’t been when they’d met. A morning spent with Jasper in the close confines of his carriage, followed by his entrance into the Pennington shop so swiftly on the heels of her own had kept her too preoccupied to pay any mind to the other woman.

  It was a testament to Vanessa Chilcott’s beauty that she was still riveting in her disheveled condition. Westfield faltered slightly when she turned toward them, his breath leaving his lungs in an audible rush.

  “Eliza.” Jasper did not appear to be overly surprised to see her. “Why did I know you
wouldn’t heed caution and stay home?”

  “I go where you go.” She examined him for signs of injury. He was dirty with ash and soot, as if he’d been in the building as well, but he didn’t appear to be hurt.

  She turned her attention to the woman standing beside him. “Miss Chilcott.”

  Vanessa Chilcott’s blue eyes were red-rimmed and somewhat vacant. She replied in a painfully hoarse voice. “Miss Martin.”

  “What happened here?”

  Jasper had begun to reply when a fireman approached.

  “The fire is contained,” the man said. “We found the body and a can of paraffin oil, just as Mrs. Pennington described.”

  “Body?” Eliza felt ill. “Dear God…Someone was caught in the fire?”

  Jasper nodded. “Miss Chilcott went up to her flat to retrieve a special order and caught Terrance Reynolds in the act of setting the place ablaze. They fought, and she brained him with a poker. She barely made it out before the fire engulfed the space. I attempted to retrieve him…but it was too late.”

  “Mr. Reynolds?” Eliza repeated.

  Her man of affairs had been excruciatingly thorough in his vetting of prospective tenants. By God, he’d discovered Jasper’s ownership of the property Westfield wagered against Montague, despite the intricate nature of the inquiry and formidable time constraints. He would not have missed discovering that Mrs. Pennington was actually Vanessa Chilcott. Why had he withheld the information? What reason would he have to allow a Chilcott to rent space from her?

  She looked at Vanessa. “You were his insurance. He hid your identity from me to use at his convenience. What role do you play in this subterfuge?”

  “None.” Vanessa’s chin lifted. “I am more ignorant of this matter than you are.”

  “What relation are you to my stepfather?”

  “I am your stepsister.”

  Staggered by the day’s revelations and the understanding that the employee she’d trusted so keenly had betrayed her, Eliza swayed on her feet. Jasper caught her close.

  She clung to him. “I saw him only hours ago. He came with information about you. Information intended to make me doubt the wisdom of marrying you.”