Catch a Falling Heiress: An American Heiress in London (2 page)

Chapter 1

Newport, Rhode Island, 1890

Ever since the Prince of Wales paid a visit to the United States back in 1860, the female half of New York society had been enamored of the British aristocracy. As American millionaires grumbled about the typical British gentleman’s seemingly idle lifestyle and anathema for hard work, their wives devised matchmaking schemes and their daughters dreamed of being countesses and duchesses.

By the time the Earl of Featherstone arrived on their shores in the autumn of 1889, the transatlantic marriage was a commonplace thing, and though the earl insisted to all of New York society that the purpose of his visit was business, women both inside and outside the Knickerbocker set waved that pesky detail to the side. The earl was a single man with no money, and business was such a vague term.

But though Jack’s insistence that he was not looking for a wife didn’t stop the ladies from engaging in hopeful speculation, it did reassure the gentlemen of New York that he wasn’t there merely to poach one of their daughters. As a result, Jack soon found that not only were the doors of New York’s drawing rooms opened to him, so were the men’s clubs.

Within a month of his arrival, he was being invited to every important social event and hearing all the gossip. Within two, he was dining at the Oak Room and playing cards at the House With The Bronze Door. Within three, he and Frederick Van Hausen were discussing investment possibilities at Delmonico’s over
Lobster à la Newberg
, playing tennis at the New York Tennis Club, and golfing at the newly founded St. Andrews course.

Befriending Van Hausen while plotting his destruction could have been every bit as hellish for Jack as Stuart had feared, for the American seemed a charming fellow—witty, intelligent, and easy to like. But the two of them had only been discussing venture capital, stock shares, and African gold mines for a fortnight when Pinkerton agents uncovered a servant girl formerly in the man’s employ named Molly Grigg, whose departure from his household was still cause for gossip among his other servants. Curious, Jack had interviewed the girl himself, a conversation that revealed just what sort of animal lurked beneath Van Hausen’s charming veneer and made clear the secret Stuart had been keeping.

After the discovery of Molly Grigg, Pinkerton’s men had found more girls just like her, and with each one he interviewed, Jack found hell a more comfortable place to be. That didn’t make his task an easy one, however, for ruining a man, however depraved he might be, wasn’t a thing to be done lightly. It was also a complicated business that required time, patience, and forethought. And to honor Stuart’s wishes, the destruction of Van Hausen required that he fall into a pit of his own making.

Still, by mid-August, Van Hausen’s pit was well and truly dug, and all that remained was the fall.

Knowing what was about to rain down upon the other man after months of work, Jack wished he could feel a sense of satisfaction, but as he studied Van Hausen from the other side of an opulent Newport ballroom, he thought of Molly Grigg and Stuart’s duchess and all the others, and he reminded himself it was too early to declare victory. When Van Hausen was in prison, then, perhaps, he’d allow himself some degree of satisfaction that justice had been served. But until then, no.

“Do you think he knows?”

The question caused Jack to take his eyes off their quarry long enough to glance at Viscount Somerton, who stood beside him. “He knows, Denys,” he said, and returned his attention to the man on the other side of the ballroom. Between the dancers who swirled across the floor, Jack noted the restless way Van Hausen paced back and forth and the uneasy glances he gave his surroundings. He thought of their last conversation, of how the other man had come to him only a few hours ago, trying to explain, begging him for help, asking him to intercede with the other investors. He’d taken great pleasure in refusing, but he felt too tense, too on edge to relive that moment of pleasure now. “Believe me, he knows.”

Van Hausen paused in his pacing and pulled out his pocketwatch, and as if in confirmation of Jack’s conclusion, his hand shook badly as he opened it to check the time.

“Sorry I’m late,” another voice entered the conversation before Denys could reply, and both men glanced back to find the Earl of Hayward behind them.

“Pongo!” they greeted him in unison, and at the utterance of his hated childhood nickname, the earl muttered an oath.

“My name is James, you bastards,” he corrected through clenched teeth. “Not Pongo.
James.
”

This reminder did not impress his friends in the least. They both gave unrepentant shrugs and returned their attention to the man across the room.

“Is he here?” James asked, rising on his toes to look over his friend’s shoulder at the dance floor and the onlookers beyond.

“He is,” Jack confirmed. “And he’s as jumpy as a cat on hot bricks.” He shrugged his tense shoulders. “He’s not the only one. I feel rather that way myself.”

“It’s almost over,” James reminded as he moved to stand on his other side. “But I’m surprised he’s here. I didn’t think he’d dare after getting the telegram from Nick.”

That telegram was the culmination of the plan Stuart had first outlined a year ago, a plan that had gone pretty much as the duke had expected. Under Jack’s careful manipulation, Van Hausen had formed East Africa Mines, accepting the funds of Jack, Denys, James, and several other investors to do so. Also as expected, he’d speculated with those funds elsewhere to recoup his other losses, and was now mired in more debts than he could ever repay. Now, Nick’s telegram was demanding Van Hausen’s presence at a meeting of the investors in East Africa Mines three days hence in New York, and at that meeting, Van Hausen would be required to repay the investors or face indictment for fraud and embezzlement. It was that telegram that had spurred Van Hausen’s visit to Jack earlier that day.

“I don’t think any of us expected his appearance tonight,” Denys said. “Most of the investors in East Africa Mines are here. Who’d have thought he’d have the courage to face us in light of Nick’s telegram?”

Jack shook his head. “It’s not courage. He’s trying to brazen things out.”

“But to what end?” Denys wondered. “Given all the stalling he’s done, and the rumors James and I have been circulating since we arrived in town, everyone here knows he’s drowning. He can’t repay us or anyone else he owes. He’s trapped.”

Almost as if he’d heard those words, Van Hausen looked up, seeing them across the room. At Jack’s exaggerated bow of greeting, he responded with a defiant scowl.

“Your friendship appears to be at an end,” Denys commented in some amusement.

“So it would seem,” Jack agreed, and wished the lifting of that burden had brought relief. But instead, he felt only an increasing uneasiness, a feeling akin to the unnatural calm that often came before a thunderstorm.

“The man must be thick as a brick to display such hostility toward us,” James said. “Especially you, Jack. He’d be better served trying to placate you, butter you up, or gain your sympathy. At the very least, he ought to be asking you to plead his case with the rest of us.”

“He already tried all of those,” Jack replied. “He even begged.”

“Did he?” James gave a low whistle. “When was this?”

“This afternoon. He cornered me at the Yacht Club after the two of you had already left. He admitted he didn’t have the funds, he asked me for help, and swore on his life he’d pay me back if I’d stake him with everyone else. He reminded me of our friendship during the past year and what good times we’ve had.”

Denys smiled. “And what was your reply?”

Jack allowed himself a grim, answering smile. “I gave him the Duke of Margrave’s warmest regards.”

The other two men laughed, but when Denys noticed he wasn’t laughing with them, his own amusement faded. “What’s wrong, Jack?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged his shoulders again, trying to loosen his tense muscles. “I know this moment had to come, and I thought I’d be glad, but I’m not.”

“That’s understandable. You’ve had to maintain a friendship with the man for months. It can’t have been easy.” Denys gave him a thoughtful look. “Any regrets?”

“About losing Van Hausen’s friendship?” He made a sound of derision. “Hardly.”

“Then what is it?”

Jack frowned, not quite knowing how to put into words the uneasiness he felt. “He knows now that I’ve been toying with him all these months,” he said slowly, thinking it out as he spoke. “He knows East Africa Mines was a trap we set for him at Stuart’s behest, and he knows he fell right into that trap. He knows he’s been played for a fool. In addition, he’s cornered and desperate. I’m rather afraid of what he might do.”

“Don’t worry,” James said, grinning as he clapped him on the back. “We’ll protect you.”

“It’s not myself I’m afraid for.”

With those words, James’s grin faded, and he and Denys both stirred, confirming that his apprehension was not wholly unfounded. None of them had spoken of Molly Grigg, or any of the other women discussed in Pinkerton’s reports, not even among themselves, and neither of his friends knew he’d been to interview those women, but it was clear his friends suspected what he already knew—that Van Hausen had done far more to the duchess than ruin her reputation.

“We can’t worry about that,” Denys said after a moment. “He was bound to be pushed over the brink at some point. And even the tiniest frustration could set him off.”

“I know, but before, I was with him often enough to keep a pretty close watch on his activities. I can’t be absolutely certain, of course, but I don’t think he’s assaulted any other women since I’ve been here. But now—” Jack stopped and swallowed at the true fear that was eating at his guts.

“We have Pinkerton men watching him every minute of every day,” James pointed out.

“Yes, and I even warned him of that this afternoon. But desperate men do desperate things. I’m worried.”

“Still, what else can you do?” Denys asked. “It’s not as if we can sleep outside his door.”

“I know, I know.” Jack sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’ll just be glad when this is finally over.”

The other two nodded in agreement, and Jack returned his gaze to the man across the room, and when he saw Van Hausen pause and again pull out his pocket watch and glance at the door, he tensed, suddenly alert. “He keeps looking at his watch. We’re at a ball. Why should he care so much what time it is?”

“Perhaps he’s just rattled,” Denys suggested. “As you said, he’s cornered, he’s without friends or resources, and he knows it. With luck, before the week is out, he’ll be in jail. Checking his watch is probably just a mindless action borne of frayed nerves.”

Jack did not reply, for his attention was fixed on the object of their conversation. Van Hausen had shoved his watch back into his waistcoat pocket and was circling the room. For a moment, Jack thought he was actually coming to speak with them, but he passed them by without a glance, making for the doors into the ballroom where he paused to greet a young woman who had just come in.

“Or,” Jack murmured, watching him capture the girl’s hands in his, “he’s been waiting for someone.”

The moment he looked at her, Jack could see why.

Her face, with its symmetrical shape and delicately molded nose and chin, was enough for any man to deem her pretty. Like most American girls, she had fine teeth, straight and white and curved in a dazzling smile. But those features were not what made Jack’s breath catch in his throat.

God, what eyes
, he thought, fully aware that he was staring, unable to look away.
What lovely, lovely eyes.

Deep-set and fringed by thick brown lashes, they seemed almost too large for her delicate face, but it was their color that made them extraordinary. Even from a dozen feet away, he could discern it—a deep, vivid blue, the vibrant hue of cornflowers at twilight.

Her blond hair, piled high atop her head, accentuated her long, graceful neck and slim, straight shoulders. Untouched by the hot tongs so many girls employed, it gleamed beneath the crystal chandeliers, and he wondered suddenly what it would look like loose and falling around her shoulders.

“I think you’re right, Jack,” Denys said beside him. “He’s been waiting for her.”

Jack didn’t answer, for his attention was riveted on the girl. A wide expanse of her creamy skin was visible above the neckline of her ball gown, a neckline low enough to raise eyebrows in sedate, stuffy Newport. His gaze slid down, and he noted a slender waist and shapely hips sheathed in blush pink silk, and he could well imagine that beneath those skirts was a pair of absolutely ripping legs.

But who was she? He lifted his gaze again to her face, a move that was of no help at all in identifying her. Although he’d spent almost a year ingratiating his way into the Knickerbocker set, he’d never seen this woman before. If he had, he’d remember.

“By Jove,” James murmured, “what a pretty girl.”