Page 8 of With Good Grace
‘Oh, but I adore gossip,’ she replied, striving for a playful tone.
‘Even so.’
‘Well anyway, Margaret has decided that you are some sort of master sleuth, and wanted me to beg for your assistance in locating her recalcitrant husband. It has absolutely nothing to do with me, and I warned her that you were probably too busy to spare the time.’ Olivia lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug that was perhaps a little too contrived and almost certainly failed to convey the indifference she sought. ‘I cannot imagine why you’d think there is anything sinister afoot, which I can tell from your brooding expression that you do. I dare say Hubert has involved himself in another peccadillo and allowed time to get away from him. I cannot think why you seem so…well, agitated.’
Jake put his brandy balloon aside and reached for her hand. ‘I am not prying into your affairs, Olivia; please don’t think that. It is just that Henderson asked to see me before I came here today.’
‘Your detective friend from Scotland Yard?’ Olivia widened her eyes. ‘A most enlightened man and about the only one in that establishment who did not think I was a murderess. I remember him well. What did he want?’
‘To tell me that there has been another murder, using the same method as that employed to kill your husband.’
‘What of it?’ Olivia shook her head. ‘I would imagine hundreds of people die from stab wounds every year. Why would Henderson connect this death to my husband’s?’
Jake tightened his grip on Olivia’s hand. ‘Because it happened in the office in The Strand that used to be your husband’s and is now used by the man who took his place.’
‘Oh!’ Olivia felt the blood drain from her face. The nightmare was in danger of starting all over again and she didn’t think she had the stamina to withstand it for a second time. ‘Who was killed?’
‘The night watchman. He disturbed burglars, or so Drake thinks—and Henderson agrees with him on this occasion.’
‘That is not comforting. Drake is a fool!’
Jake chuckled. ‘Even fools occasionally get things right.’
‘If there are similarities to Marcus’s killing,’ Olivia said softly, ‘I dare say Drake will think I am the guilty party this time as well. He is too lazy to look beyond the obvious and was furious when I was acquitted.’
‘I am sure he thinks no such thing, but it must somehow concern your husband. Whatever the original thieves were looking for, they obviously haven’t found it.’
‘But the men who killed Marcus—’
‘Are themselves dead.’ Jake’s features were set in a rigid line. ‘I am aware of that. But we always thought they were not the masterminds.’
‘Hmm, I see what you mean about it being a very convenient coincidence, what with Hubert going missing.’
Jake nodded. ‘The two events might well be connected.’ He moved from the chair opposite her and seated himself beside her on the sofa she occupied. He slid an arm around her shoulders and chastely kissed her brow. ‘So you see now why I must ask you about Marcus, much as I would prefer to respect your privacy.’
‘Do you imagine Hubert is dead?’ Olivia asked, unable to prevent herself from shuddering. She actively disliked the man but did not wish him dead.
‘I have no way of knowing.’
The fire had been lit while they were at dinner. Olivia’s cat was now stretched out on the rug in front of it, close enough to the blaze to scorch her belly, purring as she chased mice in her sleep. Olivia stared at the flames dancing up the chimney without seeing them, feeling a tenacious hand fighting her resistance and pulling her back to her past.
‘Will it never end?’ she murmured.
‘I might be resigning from Thorndike’s service, but that does not mean I will not work night and day to resolve your problems. Look at me, Olivia.’ Jake placed a long index finger beneath her chin and forced her to turn her head in his direction. She gasped when she saw the passion that gleamed in his eyes and the fierce intensity that formed the bedrock of his determined expression. ‘I have not forgotten what passed between us recently, or that you and Tom will be joining me in Torbay. I have plans for us, my sweet, plans that require your complete commitment and I cannot, will not, have you distracted.’
Olivia wanted to ask him what his plans were but knew he would not tell her; not with the spectre of Marcus coming between them.
‘Tell me everything,’ he said softly. ‘Start at the beginning. Why did you marry Grantley? He was respectable, one of our set, but our paths seldom crossed. I recall the year you came out and the sensation that you and Eva caused. You could have had just about any gentleman you desired.'
‘Including you?’ she asked playfully.
‘I was not on the market for a wife at the time.’
‘Ever the diplomat, Lord Torbay,’ she replied with a wistful smile. ‘I was admired,’ she said, her expression sobering, ‘that much is true, but you must bear in mind that my portion was small. A lot of the gentlemen who engaged my interest were required to marry for money. Marcus was a safe pair of hands, I suppose, because he was associated with my eldest brother. No, I’m getting ahead of myself.’ Olivia paused, taking a moment to assemble her jumbled thoughts. Jake allowed her to do so without distracting her. ‘Hubert inherited the baronetage upon his father’s death, along with the family’s estate in Esher, close to my own family’s home. We were neighbours and socialised with the Grantleys; I had known them since my infancy. There was some money set aside for Marcus upon his father’s demise and he went into partnership with my brother Rupert in his import business.’
‘Go on,’ Jake encouraged when Olivia paused. He took a sip of his brandy and placed the glass aside. She could smell the liquor on his breath as it peppered her face. Would she taste it later on his lips?
‘The Grantley men were blessed with good looks and considerable charm. Anyone who tells you those qualities do not make a difference is deluding themselves. We are all influenced by beauty in one way or another; be it a work of art, a vista or a handsome face. Marcus knew it and traded upon the fact that nature had smiled upon him. Hubert and Marcus were great favourites in our household and my parents in particular enjoyed their company. They thought Marcus would be a steadying influence upon Rupert. My brother was not especially business-minded, you see. Anyway, that proved to be the case. I recall the years before I came out, when Marcus was constantly at our house, teasing me about how I would take thetonby storm when I was presented. I adored him; I looked upon him as another brother.’
