Then came you, by lisa kleypas.txt Page 35

  "Make the brandy a double, Burton." She paused to look back at her husband. "Where the devil are you going?"

  The flicker of spirit she showed made Alex feel slightly better. "I'll tell you when I return. I'll be home soon."

  "There's nothing you can do," Lily said wearily. "Nothing that Derek hasn't already tried."

  In spite of all his sympathy and devotion, Alex found himself giving her a cool, caustic stare. "Apparently it hasn't occurred

  to you," he said pleasantly, "that I have influence in places where Craven doesn't. Go have your brandy, darling."

  Annoyed by his condescension, Lily opened her mouth to reply, but he had already turned and gone down the steps. He

  paused at the last step and spoke to her once more. "Tell me the name of the man you hired."

  "Knox. Alton Knox." She smiled bitterly. "A top-notch Learie officer. The best that money could buy."

  * * *

  Sir Joshua Nathan had come to prominence as a chief magistrate of the city a few years before, when Alex had used his

  influence to sponsor and pass a bill creating several new public offices. The political battle had been vicious and bloody, facing opposition from a number of corrupt "trading justices" who were in the habit of altering sentences for gifts of money, women,

  and even liquor. It had taken Alex months of debating, making speeches, and asking for personal favors in order to push the

  bill through. Alex had done it not only because of his own belief that the bill was worthy, but because Nathan, a man of integrity and courage, had been a close friend from his school days.

  Nathan's name was always paired with that of Donald Learman, the fiery young magistrate who served at the Westminster

  office. The two of them shared the same unorthodox beliefs in the method of policing, considering it a "science" that needed

  to be reformed and improved. Together they had worked to train their officers as meticulously as military squadrons. At first

  they had been ridiculed by a society accustomed to only the meager protection of aging watchmen. Despite their lack of popularity, the results of their efforts had quickly become apparent, and other precincts were beginning to follow their lead.

  The members of Nathan and Learman's crack foot patrols, known as "Learies," were often privately hired by banks and

  wealthy citizens.

  A lean, well-groomed man with an unassuming presence, Nathan greeted him with a calm, friendly smile. "Hello, Alex. A welcome face from the past."

  Alex reached out to clasp his hand. "I'm sorry to visit at such a late hour."

  "I'm quite accustomed to late hours. The nature of my work. As my wife observes, her only hope of seeing me is in the middle

  of the day." Nathan led Alex to his library, and they sat in dark leather chairs. "Now," he said quietly, "enough pleasantries.

  The sooner you tell me the problem, the sooner we may set things to rights."

  Alex described the situation as succinctly as possible. Nathan listened thoughtfully, occasionally interrupting with a question.

  The name of Gavazzi was not recognizable to him, but the mention of Alton Knox seemed to be extremely significant. When

  Alex concluded his monologue, the magistrate leaned back in his chair, forming a triangle with his thumbs and forefingers as he thought. "Child-stealing is a thriving business in London," Nathan said cynically. "Attractive little boys and girls are a profitable commodity, efficiently harvested from shops and parks and ometimes right from the nursery. Often they're sold to buyers in foreign markets. It's a convenient business—easily dismantled at the first sign of trouble and just as easily resurrected when

  the scene is clear."

  "You think Gavazzi may be involved in such a scheme?"

  "Yes, I'm certain he's part of a rookery gang. From your description, he doesn't seem the kind who could manage

  this on his own."

  The following silence seemed to spin out endlessly, until Alex couldn't stand it anymore. "Dammit, what is it?"

  Nathan smiled sardonically at his friend's impatience, and then his thin face turned somber. "I'm considering some disquieting possibilities," he finally said. "The man your wife hired, Mr. Knox, is the pride of Learman's Westminster office. Lady Raiford

  was not at fault for believing him to be trustworthy."

  "Is he?" Alex asked tersely.

  "I'm not certain." Nathan gave a long sigh. "In the course of their duties, Alex, my officers become quite familiar with the underworld and its workings. Sometimes they are tempted to use this knowledge in evil ways . . . trading innocent lives in

  return for money, and therefore betraying every principle they are pledged to uphold. I'm afraid your wife and her daughter

  may have been victims of this devil's bargain." He frowned in disgust. "Knox has earned a large amount of 'blood money'

  this year, in the form of rewards for recovering stolen children. His unusual success leads me to suspect he could be in collusion with the criminals who are responsible for the abductions. Feeding them information, warning them when to change locations, helping them to avoid arrest. Knox may actually be partners with this Gavazzi."

  Alex's jaw hardened. "What the hell are you going to do about it?"

  "With your permission, I would like to set a trap, using Lady Raiford as our front."

  "As long as she won't be exposed to danger."

  "No danger of any kind," Nathan assured him.

  "What about her daughter?" Alex asked tersely. "Will this help to find her?"

  Nathan hesitated. "If we're fortunate, it will lead to that."

  Alex rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes. "Dammit," he muttered. "That's not much to take home to my wife.'

  "It's all I can offer," came the quiet reply.

  Chapter 13

  "Mr. Knox was helping Giuseppe?" Lily demanded in outrage. "While he was working for me?"

  Alex nodded, taking her hands in his. "Nathan suspects Giuseppe may be part of a rookery gang, and that Knox is in collusion

  with him. Recently Knox has been making a large amount of 'blood money' in addition to his regular salary."

  "Blood money?" Lily asked in confusion.

  "Rewards given him by private citizens for finding and returning stolen children. Knox has collected rewards for resolving

  several such cases this year."

  Lily's eyes widened with surprise and anger. "Then the gang abducts children . . . Mr. Knox returns them . . . and they all

  divide the reward money amongst themselves? Why has he returned everyone's child except mine? Why not Nicole?"

  "Giuseppe may have persuaded him that they'd make more by keeping Nicole and draining you of everything you had."

  Lily was still. "He was right," she said numbly. "I handed over several fortunes to him. I gave him whatever he wanted."

  She dropped her head into her hands. "Oh, God," she muttered. "What a naive, blind fool I've been. I made it so damned

  easy for them."

  While she remained hunched over, his hand settled over her head, his long fingers sifting through her curls in an easy, repeated stroke. Until now she had winced away from his attempts to embrace her, but she allowed the soothing massage, the tense muscles in her neck loosening.

  "Don't blame yourself," Alex said gently. "You were alone and frightened. They took advantage of that. It's impossible to look

  at things objectively when you're afraid for your child."

  Lily's mind seemed to spin with questions. What did he think of her now that he knew all about her past? . . . Did he feel pity

  or censure? . . . Was he only being kind until he felt she was strong enough to face his rejection? She told herself that she

  couldn't make a move toward him until she had the answers. She would rather die than force herself on him . . . but rational thought was becoming impossible with his fingers playing softly in her hair. A surge of need rose inside her,
and she couldn't

  stop herself from lifting her head with a quiet plea. She didn't care if it was pity. She just wanted him to hold her.

  "Sweetheart." Alex gathered her into his lap, cradling her tenderly as she buried her face against his neck. He seemed to read

  her thoughts easily, as if she were a treasured volume he had paged through a thousand times. By telling her secrets, she had given him that power over her. "I love you," he said against her temple, brushing back her hair with his fingertips.

  "You can't-"

  "Quiet. Listen to me carefully, Wilhemina. Your mistakes, your past, your fears . . . none of it will change how I feel about you."

  She swallowed hard, trying to absorb the statement. "I-I don't like that name," she faltered.

  "I know," he said gently. "Because it reminds you of when you were a girl. Wilhemina is frightened and eager, wanting to be loved. And Lily is strong and brave, and would tell the world to go to hell if she wanted to."

  "Which do you prefer?" she whispered.

  He nudged her chin upward, staring into her eyes. He smiled slightly. "All of you. Every part of you."

  Lily trembled at the assurance in his voice, but as he lowered his mouth to hers, she flinched. She wasn't ready for sensual

  kisses or embraces . . . her inner wounds were raw . . . she needed time to heal. "Not yet," she whispered pleadingly, afraid he would be angry at her refusal. Instead he gathered her close again, and she rested her head on his shoulder with a weary sigh.

  * * *

  It was ten o'clock in the morning. At the East End of London shops had been open since eight, the streets filled with the noise

  and bustle of vendors, wagons, fishermen, and milkmaids as they all went about their work. Here in the West End, the populace awakened in a far more leisurely fashion. Having arrived early at the corner of Hyde Park, Lily watched the world outside the carriage window. Milk women, chimney sweeps with their soot bags, newsmen, and bakery boys rang at the doors of fine

  homes, greeted by maidservants. Children walked along the streets with their nannies to take the morning air, while their

  parents would not stir from bed and partake of breakfast until early afternoon. In the distance was the drumbeat and music

  of the guards marching from their barracks toward Hyde Park.

  Lily's gaze sharpened as she saw a lone figure come to stand by a timber post next to the street corner. It was Alton Knox, garbed in the traditional Learie uniform—black breeches and boots and a gray coat studded with shiny brass buttons. A low-crowned hat topped his head. After taking a steadying breath, Lily leaned out the carriage window and beckoned with her handkerchief. "Mr. Knox," she said in a low voice. "Over here. Please come to the carriage."

  Knox complied, exchanging a brief, pleasant word with the footman before climbing into the privacy of the enclosed vehicle. Removing his hat, he smoothed his salt-and-pepper hair, and murmured a greeting. A solidly built man of medium height, he

  had a nondescript face that could have belonged to a man much younger than his forty years.

  Lily sat in the opposite seat, giving him a nod of welcome. "Mr. Knox, I appreciate your willingness to meet here instead of

  at my residence. For obvious reasons, I cannot allow my husband, the earl, to discover that I have conducted any business

  with you. He would insist on explanations ..." She let her voice trail off and looked at him helplessly.

  "Of course, Miss Lawson." Knox paused and corrected himself with a faint smile. "But of course, it is Lady Raiford now."

  "My marriage was an unexpected turn of events," Lily admitted self-consciously. "It has altered my life in many ways . . .

  except one. I still am determined to find my daughter Nicole." She lifted a money pouch and jangled it slightly.

  "Fortunately I now have the means to continue the search. I would like your help in this matter, as before."

  Knox's gaze riveted on the money pouch, and he gave her what was intended to be a reassuring smile. "Consider me

  reinstated, Lady Raiford." He reached out his hand, and she gave him the small but hefty bag. "Now, tell me how matters

  stand with Gavazzi."

  "My communications with Count Gavazzi have not ceased, Mr. Knox. In fact, he boldly confronted me last night, making

  entirely new demands."

  "Last night?" he questioned in surprise. "New demands?"

  "Yes." Lily gave a distraught sigh. "Before, as you know, Giuseppe wanted only money. That I was able and willing to supply,

  as long as I believed there was hope I would regain my child. But last night ..." She broke off and shook her head with a sound

  of disgust.

  "What sort of demands?" Knox asked. "Forgive my bluntness, but did he ask for your personal favors, my lady?"

  "No. Although he did make advances that I found intolerable, it was even worse than that. Count Gavazzi threatens everything

  I have, my home, my marriage, my social position, because of some ludicrous ambition of his to become a member of the

  beau monde!" Lily hid her satisfaction as she saw that Knox's face was wiped clean with astonishment.

  "I can scarcely credit that," he managed to say.

  "It's true." She lifted a lace handkerchief to the corner of her eye, pretending to blot a tiny tear. "He approached me at

  Lady Lyon's birthday celebration last night, arrayed like a straggly peacock, in front of hundreds of people! He demanded

  that I introduce him, and become his sponsor so that he would become accepted into the elite circles. Oh, Mr. Knox,

  you should have seen the dreadful spectacle."

  "The fool!" he burst out angrily, paying little heed to how odd his sudden fury must have seemed.

  "He was witnessed by several people, including Lord Lyon and my own husband. When I managed to coax him to a private corner, he revealed his bizarre ambitions. He said that he would return my daughter back to me soon, but first he wants my influence to gain him a position of social consequence. The idea is quite unsupportable. He's known in Italy as a scoundrel,

  a criminal! How could he imagine he would be well-received here?"

  "He's nothing but foreign scum," Knox said grimly. "And now it seems he's not only worthless but unstable."

  "Exactly, Mr. Knox. And unstable men tend to betray themselves—and their schemes—with foolish mistakes. Is that not so?"

  "You're correct," he said with a sudden and unnatural calmness. "In all probability he will become a victim of his own greed."

  There was a cold flatness to his gaze that chilled her. His grave face had taken on a reptilian expression—sinister and predatory. There was no doubt, Lily thought, that he intended to put an end to Giuseppe's dangerously unrestrained behavior. If Knox truly was involved with Giuseppe and some rookery gang, his fortunes were tied to theirs, and the wagging of loose tongues was untenable.

  Earnestly Lily leaned forward and touched his arm. "I pray you will find my Nicole." she said softly. "Mr. Knox, I can promise

  you a significant reward if you succeed in this." She placed a delicate emphasis on significant, and he visibly savored the word.

  "This time I will not fail you," Knox said firmly. "I shall resume my investigations this very morning, Lady Raiford."

  "Please, use discretion in notifying me of your progress. My husband . . . the necessity of secrecy ..."

  "Of course," Knox assured her. Replacing his hat, he bid her good day and left the carriage, his weight causing the vehicle to

  lurch slightly. He walked away with the brisk stride of a man with a destination in mind.

  Lily's appealing expression vanished as soon as he turned away, and she watched him through the carriage window with cold,

  dark eyes. "Go to hell, you bastard," she whispered. "And while you're at it, take Giuseppe with you."

  * * *

  After telling Alex and Sir Nathan the details of the
meeting with Knox, and placing every possible construction on his words,

  there was nothing to do but wait. Henry had gone to the British Museum with his tutor to study Greek vases and antiquities. Although none of the servants understood what was going on, they were all subdued, aware of the tension that permeated

  every room of the mansion. Lily longed to go for an invigorating ride, but she was afraid to leave the house in case something occurred while she was away.

  Half-wild with the need to do something, she attempted a bit of needlework, but she kept accidentally pricking her fingertips

  until the handkerchief she was embroidering was spotted with blood. She couldn't understand how Alex remained so

  maddeningly calm, attending to paperwork in the library as if this were any other day.

  Drinking endless cups of tea, she paced, read, and endlessly shuffled cards in a rhythm that had become second nature to her.

  The only reason she managed to swallow a few mouthfuls at dinner was because of Alex's bullying and his sardonic comments that she would be of no use to anyone if she starved herself.