Pride and Pleasure

Jasper took pity on the man and said, “Before you begin, it is important to know we’re now looking for a woman.”



“I knew it!” Herbert slapped his knee.



“Of course you did.” Jasper was more than satisfied with the strengths of his crew. Herbert in particular had an instinct for hunting, becoming quite dogged when he sensed something was amiss. “What did you uncover?”



“I still ’ave a few more questions of my own to answer ’bout some o’ the renters, but there’s one I’m fair certain isn’t what she says she is.”



“Who?”



“Vanessa Pennington. Aaron and I ’ave asked around, but we can’t find any proof of a Mr. Pennington. No ring on ’er finger, no papers or letters, no portraits—”



“Perhaps she keeps such sentimental items in a private place,” Westfield suggested.



“I checked,” Herbert said.



“How—?” Westfield paused. “Forget I asked.”



Jasper’s mouth curved. “Her residence is above the store, yes?”



Herbert nodded. “Aside from the agreement to rent the space from Miss Martin, I couldn’t find anything with the name ‘Pennington’ on it. But I did find several receipts and such addressed to ‘Vanessa Chilcott.’”



“Chilcott.” Jasper leaned back heavily into his chair. “Bloody hell.”



“A ne’er-do-well clan of thieves and miscreants.” West-field straightened and took the seat opposite Herbert. “Perhaps their past success with Lady Georgina has made them bold in regards to the Tremaine family.”



“How is Vanessa Chilcott related to Miss Martin’s stepfather?” Jasper asked.



Herbert lifted one sturdy shoulder in a shrug. “Aside from praising her face and figure, the other shopkeepers in the area ’ad little to say ’bout her. She keeps to ’erself.”



Westfield snorted. “I’ve been told the Chilcotts are all remarkably good looking. Which is not enough to make me foolish, but clearly the same cannot be said of everyone, or the family wouldn’t be so successful in their subterfuges.”



Jasper averted his gaze. Eliza was too intelligent to miss seeing the parallels between her relationship with him and her mother’s with Chilcott. She had to overlook prejudicial experiences in order to extend her trust to him, which made her credence all the more valuable. He would have to tread carefully or risk losing something priceless.



“I want Miss Chilcott watched at all hours until further notice,” he told Herbert. “I want to know whom she speaks to, where she goes, and what hours she keeps. And I need to know how she’s related to Miss Martin.”



“I’ll see to it.” Herbert pushed heavily to his feet.



Jasper watched the man depart, then looked at Westfield. “I visited the Pennington store with Miss Martin, and she had no notion the proprietress was anything more than a stranger. Miss Chilcott, however, appeared to be greatly interested in Miss Martin.”



“That’s to be expected.” The earl made a careless gesture with his hand. “She is residing and conducting business in space owned by Miss Martin.”



“Miss Chilcott should not be aware of that fact. Miss Martin takes great pains to remain anonymous, conducting most transactions through her man of affairs. She believes it eases the way for everyone involved if her gender remains unknown.” Jasper rapped his knuckles against the desk in frustration. “Damnation. If I’d retained the sales receipt from my purchase, I could have compared Vanessa Chilcott’s penmanship to that of the letters Melville received.”



“I still don’t understand why Miss Chilcott would want to prevent Miss Martin from marrying. Pettiness?”



“There is an obligation created with their business relationship that doesn’t exist otherwise,” Jasper reasoned, “a legal agreement between two parties with responsibilities and ramifications on both sides. As a former step-relation, whatever grievance Miss Chilcott may have against Miss Martin clearly has no weight or she would have pursued it legally. Without legal basis, there’s no possibility of restitution. But as a tenant, if she was to create a circumstance in which Miss Martin was seen as liable for damages or loss of income, Miss Chilcott could possibly negotiate a financial settlement.”



“I see. Miss Martin is accountable as a landlord in ways she isn’t as a relation-by-marriage. Exploiting their business association for monetary gain wouldn’t be too far outside the realm of possibility, considering the Chilcott family’s larcenous reputation.”



“My thoughts exactly. It would also explain why Miss Chilcott hid her true identity.”



“But would an assumed guise withstand further scrutiny in a court of law?” Westfield queried.



“Assuming I’m correct, I doubt she intends her plan to go that far. If she was able to gain leverage of some sort against Miss Martin, I believe the result would be a quiet exchange of funds in order to maintain the business anonymity Miss Martin prizes. However, if Miss Martin had a spouse, he would have greater license to mount a public defense, because he would have no reason to hide.”



“Extortion is a nasty business. Best not to have anything requiring concealment.”



Jasper’s foot tapped restlessly. “I’m due to retrieve the balance of my purchases from Miss Chilcott’s store—customized items requiring preparation time.”



Westfield set his glass on the low table with a dull thud and rose gracefully to his feet. “I’m coming with you, of course. I should like to see what happens next.”



“Let us hope you see the end of Miss Martin’s troubles.” Jasper pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time. He cursed.



“Running behind again, are you?” There was laughter in the earl’s voice. “Tardiness is becoming a habit with you. Here I thought you would corrupt Miss Martin’s finer points, but perhaps the opposite is true.”



Jasper might have been chagrined if not for the fact that the swifter time passed, the sooner Eliza would be his wife. “Step lively, Westfield.”



But haste didn’t help him achieve his aim. Although they arrived at Miss Chilcott’s shop within posted business hours, the proprietress was not in evidence.



“Shoddy way to run a new business,” Westfield muttered, tilting his head back to eye the pink-striped awning.



“Only if you mean to make a success of it. By your accounts, the Chilcotts aren’t ones to work for their keep.”



Jasper waited for Peter Crouch to return from checking the rear exterior staircase leading to the domicile on the second floor. When the young man appeared, he was shaking his head.



“Damn and blast,” Jasper muttered. “I cannot wait for Miss Chilcott to return. I’m to meet Montague at Remington’s in an hour to discuss his idiotic mining speculation.”



Westfield looked at him. “Despite an imminent wedding and the nefarious Miss Chilcott, you still won’t allow Montague to meet his own fate? You know as well as I he’s destined to destroy himself.”



“He and his family owe me far better than that. I want his destruction to come by my hand, and I will not rest until I’ve seen the deed through to the last.”



The earl sighed and turned away from the building. “I’ll accompany you to Remington’s, then part ways with you for the evening. With the announcement of Miss Martin’s engagement to you, you won’t be needing me to gain entry to anyplace you choose to go. I, however, am in dire need of a strong drink and a soft woman. Or two.”



“Easy on the drink,” Jasper said, walking back to his horse.



“And ride hard on the woman? Excellent idea.”



Neither man could see the eavesdropper in the room above them. She sat on the floor beneath the barely raised sash and listened to the masculine voices drifting up to her. A smile curved her lovely lips. With a rapacious gleam in her blue eyes, she began to plan…



It was difficult for Eliza to refrain from fidgeting when she knew she was to be married the next day. However, the Cranmores’ ballroom was not the place to appear anxious.



A few years had passed since she’d last been invited to a Cranmore event. Lady Cranmore was a consummate hostess whose entertainment innovations were often copied, and her expertise was widely evident tonight. Tulle and ivy wrapped Ionic columns. Harp players filled every corner with music when the orchestra was quiet. Outside, the rear lawn was dotted with dramatically blazing torches. The result was one of Grecian decadence, and everyone in attendance appeared to be in high spirits.



Eliza, however, was feeling high-strung. She was filled with a mixture of exhilaration and apprehension such as she’d never known. Tomorrow, she would be wed. After so many years of making certain she did nothing as her mother would have, she was no longer allowing Georgina to rule her actions from the grave. Which made every aspect of the coming day momentous.



“I am so pleased,” Lady Collingsworth said, looking at Eliza with bright eyes. “I must confess, when you told me you would be married tomorrow, I doubted I could do justice to the occasion with such short notice.”



Personally, Eliza thought nothing more than family and close friends were necessary, but she guessed that saying so would only disappoint and hurt Regina. “Thank you,” she said instead. “You’re too kind to me.”



“Stuff.” Regina waved one gloved hand carelessly. “I had given up on your ever marrying. I’m so very happy you found someone precious to you after all.”



“Precious,” Eliza repeated, her head turning to find Jasper. He stood on the edge of the ballroom speaking with Montague. She’d previously taken note of Westfield’s absence.



“You are full of surprises lately,” Regina murmured. “To think…Secret proposals from two of the most eligible bachelors of the ton. Absolutely delicious. Does Mr. Bond know who his competition was?”



“Yes.”



“Lord Montague is being laudably gracious. Look at him speaking so civilly with your betrothed. And what a pair they make. From this distance, one could almost imagine them as brothers.”



“My understanding is that the similarities between the two exist only on the exterior.”



Regina leaned closer. “Your tone is intriguing.”



Eliza lowered her voice to a whisper. “Have you ever heard anything of a worrisome nature about Lord Montague?”



“Such as?”



“Never mind. There are some things it’s best not to know.”



“You cannot initiate such a topic, only to abandon it!”



When it became apparent Eliza would say no more, Regina snapped open her fan with a flourish. “Hmph…With your engagement, I’d hoped that poor Rothschild girl would finally capture Montague’s attention, but you have me wondering if he’s not such a prize after all.”



“Jane Rothschild?” Eliza frowned.



“Over there.” Regina gestured to where Miss Rothschild was hovering behind a column near Montague and Jasper. “See how she stares at him, looking so forlorn? I’ve noticed her lingering in his general vicinity, as if she hopes he’ll notice her. Her behavior is sadly untoward, but exception must be made for her common origins.”



Jane was a pretty girl with soft brown hair and eyes, and a rather curvaceous figure. An air of melancholy clung to her. Perhaps it was the way her mouth turned down at the corners, or how she shifted so restlessly, as if the disquiet inside her was so great it manifested itself physically.



“Montague told me he attempted to court Miss Rothschild,” Eliza said, “but she was unreceptive.”



“I cannot believe that,” Regina scoffed. “Her parents would pay a fortune for an earldom, and her actions speak for her.”



Eliza could argue with neither point. Curious, she excused herself and moved toward the other woman. Why would Montague say Miss Rothschild was averse to his suit, when it appeared she was in fact openly seeking his regard? It was a puzzle, especially considering how dire Montague’s financial situation was reported to be and how wealthy the Rothschilds were.



As she drew closer, Montague parted from Jasper and moved toward the open doors leading to the moonlit garden. Jane prepared to follow the earl outside, but Eliza spoke out.



“Miss Rothschild. How are you this evening?”



Jane cast an almost frantic glance at Montague’s back, then faced Eliza with a weak smile. “I’m well, Miss Martin. Thank you for inquiring. Congratulations on your betrothal.”



With proximity, Eliza noted Jane’s wan complexion and the dark circles under her eyes. “Thank you. Would you care for something to drink? A lemonade, perhaps?”



“No.” Jane looked out the door again. “I’m not thirsty.”



“Miss Martin.”



Jasper’s voice drew Eliza’s attention. His gaze was blatantly inquisitive.



Jane bolted. “Excuse me, Miss Martin. I wish you a good evening.”



Eliza gaped as the woman hurried out to the garden.



Drawing abreast of her, Jasper queried, “Is everything all right?”



“I doubt it.”



He leaned over her, his proximity far too close to be seemly, but she couldn’t complain. The thrill she felt at his nearness was worth any censure.



“What do you know of your stepfather’s relations?” he asked.



“Extremely little. I avoided speaking with him whenever possible.”



Jasper’s gaze moved over her face, searching. “What was it about him you disliked so intensely?”



“You would have had to know my mother to understand. She was…erratic. Impulsive. What she needed was a firm hand, such as my father’s, but Mr. Chilcott was overly indulgent. He encouraged her wild notions and sudden changes of agenda. His enabling of her behavior led to their deaths. She decided they absolutely had to travel north to celebrate the passing of six months of marriage. She ignored warnings of muddy roads due to torrential downpours, and he didn’t have the sense or will to stay her.”