Sara Bennett (27 page)

“Shh!” Ellen glanced about them.

“I found the room when I was playing,” Eddie said, lowering his voice. “I used to ride the lion like a horse, and one day I touched part of the pattern on the stone base and the floor opened up. No one else knows ’cept us, miss.”

Suddenly Vivianna felt dizzy with the knowledge that Eddie now held the evidence Oliver had been searching for during the past year.

“Eddie,” she said gently, “Ellen, I know someone who will be very pleased to have those letters. He may even give you a reward. What do you think of that?”

“Cor!” Eddie’s eyes popped and Ellen clapped her hands softly. “Who is he, then? Prince Albert, I bet?”

Vivianna couldn’t help but smile. “No, not quite. Lord Montegomery.”

“Oh,” they gasped in unison, and then they grinned like the urchins they were. “Do you think he’ll really give us a reward?”

Vivianna nodded solemnly. “I think he will, Eddie.”

“I wonder if it’ll be enough to buy a new slingshot….”

“I’m sure he’ll buy you several. Now listen to me, this is very important. You need to hide. Lord Lawson
isn’t a very nice man and we can’t let him find you. He wants those letters, you see, and I don’t think he would care if he hurt you.”

Eddie’s eyes widened, but Ellen shook her head and said calmly, “Why would we hide, miss? We can lock the gentleman up in the dark, just like Eddie was locked up.”

Good God, of course! Vivianna’s gaze swung back down the long gallery and found the black space in the floor. Lord Lawson was still down there. But for how long?

She began to run. The children clattered after her. By the time Vivianna reached the entrance to the chamber, she was breathless. She gulped in air, peering down to where the steps vanished into nothingness.

“Lord Lawson?”

A scuffling noise. “What is it?” He sounded some way away, his voice hollow.

“Have you found anything?”

Movement, getting closer. “No. I’m coming back up.”

Vivianna’s heart jolted. She spun around to face the children. “The lion,” she whispered fiercely. “Push it back across!”

Definite footsteps now; the scrape of a shoe on stone. The children began to tug and pull the lion. It barely moved. Vivianna pushed against its cold flank, and felt the slab begin to roll back into position. But slowly, so slowly.

“Where are those children?” Lawson’s voice echoed beneath their feet.

He knew!

He was getting closer, and now they could hear him on the stairs. The lion upon its slab was halfway
across. And then Lawson seemed to realize what was happening. He shouted out. He began to run…and stumbled.

The lion gained momentum. It trundled across the diminishing gap. Just as Lawson’s face appeared, white and streaked with dust, his eyes blazing with fury, the door closed with a soft whoosh.

“That was close,” Eddie muttered, his freckles even more prominent.

Vivianna leaned against the statue. Her heart was jumping in her chest. “Can he open it from inside?” she asked.

“I don’t know, miss,” Ellen whispered, and looked frightened.

“It’s dark down there anyway,” Eddie said grimly. “He won’t be able to see much once the candle goes out.”

That was true. Vivianna waited a moment more, but apart from some angry shouting and thumping at the slab beneath them, there was no sign of Lawson escaping. She held out her hands and tried not to shake.

“Come on, children. There are things to be done.”

Oliver spurred his horse down the long driveway. Ahead of him Candlewood awaited in the afternoon sun. He had come as soon as he could and Sergeant Ackroyd was not far behind. Vivianna’s message, via her coach driver, had been blunt and to the point.

I have the letters and Lawson. Come at once.

He still found it difficult to believe. Vivianna had accomplished in one afternoon what Oliver had been trying to accomplish for a year. He should be thrilled,
but he wasn’t. He felt sick with anxiety and all he could think was: How dare she endanger herself in this way!

The whole point of driving her away after their night at the Anchor had been to keep her from danger. Why the hell couldn’t she ever do what she was supposed to?
Damn the woman….

The door to the house was flung open as he dismounted and two small faces peered out at him. Then they began to shout. Almost immediately Vivianna appeared behind them.

He noticed she was wearing one of her woolen dresses, and her hair was pulled back tightly at her nape. She looked as severe and plain as she had the first time he met her. A reformer. A woman who attended meetings and lectured him. A do-gooder who would never be satisfied until he gave her Candlewood in perpetuity.

And he realized he didn’t care. It didn’t matter. He still wanted her. He always would.

The knowledge gave him a warm sensation, just above his heart. As if he had come home.

“Vivianna!” Oliver moved to take her into his arms.

But Vivianna had other ideas. She stepped behind the children, using them like a shield. The orphans gazed up at him with interest. Strangely, they appeared to have cobwebs decorating their hair.

“Lord Montegomery, I am sure you remember Eddie and Ellen?”

He looked into her eyes, trying to read them. There was tension in her, as if she were holding her emotions on a tight rein. He understood that. She must have had a dreadful shock. But he was here now. She was safe.
He wished she would cast herself into his arms like any other woman, but he supposed that was out of the question. She must still hate his guts, and he knew she had every right to.

Oliver turned to the children and tried not to show his agitation. “Of course I remember Eddie and Ellen.”

They reached out and clung to his hands. In fact, once they had hold of him, they didn’t want to let him go.

“I’ve sent word to the police,” Oliver said. “They should be here soon. Where’s Lawson?”

“Inside.” She gave him a smug little smile. “He can’t get out, don’t worry.”

“Will you give us a reward?” Ellen’s soft voice interrupted.

“A reward?” Oliver looked back at Vivianna.

“Lord Montegomery, the children have something for you.” Vivianna tapped Eddie on the shoulder. He dragged a bundle from inside his jacket and held it out to Oliver. “Here you go, mister,” he said with a grin from ear to ear. “What do you think the reward’ll be on this?”

For a moment Oliver could not move, and then he reached out a hand that didn’t seem to belong to him, and his fingers closed over the bundle of letters tied with black ribbon.

He felt emotion well up inside him. Anthony had hidden these the night he died. Had he thought of Oliver then, had he believed that somehow Oliver would find them? Oliver hoped so. He hoped that his brother had forgiven him and trusted in him before he died.

The writing on the envelopes was in black ink; strong, sloping writing that he recognized at once as
belonging to Lawson. It was the actual address that sent a tingle of amazement through him, and of comprehension. Even without reading the letters he now understood Lawson’s single-minded intent to retrieve what was his. But still, he drew one out, unfolded it, and cast his eye over the contents.

It was worse than he had thought.

“Mister?”

He glanced down and saw Eddie’s freckled face gazing up at him. The little boy was watching him with slight impatience.

“Yes, Eddie?” he said.

“The reward. Miss Greentree said as there’d be a reward.”

Oliver smiled and rested his hand gently on Eddie’s head. “And so there will be. I will open an account at my bank and place two amounts in it, one for you, Eddie, and one for Ellen, and when you are twenty-one, the money will—”

“Aw, mister.” Eddie’s face scrunched up alarmingly. “I don’t want no bank account. I wanna go to the zoo! Will you take us to the zoo?”

“I want to go for a ride in a carriage,” Ellen whispered. “A proper carriage with four white horses.”

At a loss, Oliver met Vivianna’s eyes over their heads. “Perhaps you can have both,” she said tentatively. “If Lord Montegomery is willing, of course.”

Oliver didn’t even hesitate. “Zoo it is, then, and carriage as well!”

“Good,” sighed Vivianna, “that’s settled. Now, children, perhaps you could wait here on the steps for the policemen. Will you do that for me, Eddie? Ellen?”

Eddie and Ellen were agreeable, and Vivianna left them there and led the way inside.

“I did not even know they were here,” she told
Oliver as she walked. “I thought they had gone with the others to Bethnal Green. The little scamps must have hidden and decided to explore instead.”

“Vivianna—”

“I’m glad they found the letters,” she said quickly. “I really am. That will be the end of it, then, won’t it? You can bring Lawson to justice?”

Oliver nodded and placed the letters carefully into his jacket pocket. “Yes.”

“I saw the address on them,” Vivianna added. “I expect that means…”

“Yes, Lawson has finally overreached himself.”

They had come to a bolted door. She turned and met his eyes, and her own were large and bright. And frightened. Vivianna was frightened.

“Tell me,” he demanded. “How did you capture Lawson?”

She told him.

As she spoke, Oliver could feel fury tightening every sinew in his body. Lawson had dared to come to Candlewood after Oliver had done all in his power to keep her safe. If she had not taken him prisoner, he might have harmed her. Or worse. Oliver had expected his own life to be in danger—he had accepted it as part of the plan he was executing. But for Lawson to threaten Vivianna…

“Did he hurt you?” he demanded.

Vivianna blinked, startled by what she saw in his face. “No. He noticed that the door to the secret chamber was open and he went down into it. I was going to go with him, to stop him from taking the letters. And then Eddie came, and Ellen. But Lawson had seen the children—I knew he would come after them. And I…I couldn’t let him free to do that.”

“Vivianna,” he groaned, “do you know how dangerous he is?”

She bit her lip. “Yes,” she whispered, “I do.”

She would have gone into danger for the letters? For him? Suddenly Oliver could not bear it anymore. Anthony and his death had been the most important thing in his world for so long, and now, suddenly, he realized it no longer was. He wanted a future. He wanted to live again.

He wanted Vivianna.

Oliver reached out, wanting to hold her, needing to feel her, but she stepped back again. Away from him.

“I’m perfectly all right,” she said.

But he felt sick with rage and fear. “I wish I had been here to protect you,” he began urgently. “This was never meant to happen.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Vivianna’s brows rose. “I don’t need your protection,” she retorted stiffly. “We did very well on our own, the children and I.”

Oliver tried again.

“Vivianna, I never meant to involve you,” he insisted. “I tried to keep you out of Lawson’s way.”

“Yes,” she said, “you tried very hard to keep me completely out of the way. I’m sorry you had to bother with me at all. How boring it must have been for you, wasting your time seducing me when you had Lawson to catch.”

“Is that what you think?” he demanded incredulously. But of course she would think that. He had wanted her to, so that she would be safe. “Vivianna, I made you hate me that night on purpose, to keep you away from me, to keep you out of danger. I could have made you hate me before we went to the Anchor, but I was too selfish for that. You asked for a night with the
rake, and because I wanted you, I said yes. A night to remember, before I sent you away.” His laugh was bitter. “Believe me, I haven’t felt whole since.”

“So now you would have me believe that, too, was part of the game you were playing? I’m confused, Oliver. How many lies have you told me during our brief acquaintance?”

She sounded furious, but there were tears in her eyes.

Before he could answer, Vivianna unbolted the door and flung it open. A long, cold room stretched before them. Murals on the ceiling, a colonnade, unfinished statues and moldings. Oliver glanced at her, wanting to continue their conversation, but she clearly expected him to precede her into the gallery.

“The door is over here,” she said matter-of-factly. Vivianna led him toward a statue of a lion with a raised front paw. “The lion actually moves to one side, and there are stairs leading to an underground chamber.”

Oliver stared at where she was pointing. “And Lawson is down there?”

“Yes.”

“Alone in the dark?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

V
ivianna should not have been surprised by the savage note in his voice. But she was. He was a stranger to her, this man. No longer Oliver the rake, the gentleman in need of redemption.

Not this new man. He didn’t need saving. He was Oliver the avenger, and he was cold and focused and very self-contained. He no more needed Vivianna’s help than did Lawson.

Vivianna knew it was stupid, ridiculous, but she preferred the rake. She wanted the man who had kissed her and made her come alive in his arms, the man who had made love to her in the most inappropriate places. She had always known he was completely unsuitable, that she could never ever marry him, and yet his charm, mixed with a touch of vulnerability, had appealed to her. She had fallen in love with him.

She missed him.

Vivianna swallowed her own grief, and found that Oliver was watching her again. But now there was no lurking smile in his eyes, no teasing light to make her
heart pitter-patter. He was withdrawn, suspicious. He would use her if he could for his own ends and then discard her, just as he had after the night at the Anchor. Oh yes, this man was indeed a stranger.

And that was how she must treat him.

“You may have heard that I have been named heir to Angus Fraser’s fortune.”

Oliver frowned at her cool, polite tone.

“I won’t go into details,” Vivianna went on, as if this were an ordinary conversation in the most ordinary of circumstances. “Suffice it to say that I will soon have more than enough money to make you an offer for Candlewood. I assume you will not need to demolish it now?”

Oliver felt disoriented. Did she know what she was saying? And disappointed. She had given him the letters, placed herself in danger, and now he learned it had all been for the blasted house after all. Candlewood. Everything she did was for Candlewood.

Nothing had changed.

He turned away, so she wouldn’t see how much the realization had affected him. He might be a fool, but he didn’t want her to know it.

“My aunt called to tell me about your father,” he said, as if it mattered to him not at all. “Should I congratulate you? He is very wealthy, isn’t he? More money for your orphans.”

“He is very wealthy, and there will be more money for my orphans. More money for houses and hospitals, too. I will be quite unstoppable now.”

He laughed, but there was that note of bitterness in it.

“I expect Lady Marsh forbade you to see me again,” she went on, and seated herself upon the lion’s back.

Oliver eyed her uneasily. This was becoming more
bizarre by the moment. “Actually,” he said, “my aunt is not easily shocked.”

“Does she know that my mother is Aphrodite?” Vivianna asked woodenly. “She and Fraser were lovers and she had his child. I was taken away from her when I was six, and Lady Greentree found me.”

Aphrodite!

He opened his mouth, closed it again. He had a feeling she was watching him very closely and anything he said may be misconstrued. It was wiser, he felt, to say nothing.

Her eyes blurred with tears.

Oliver cursed silently. Maybe there was something he could say after all. “Vivianna, let me help you. The Montegomeries are an old and distinguished family. I can help you weather this storm. Surely it would be better than running back to Yorkshire and hiding on the moors? I’m sure Lady Marsh would be more than happy to champion your cause, and I…”

But already Vivianna’s face had grown cold and distant, and her eyes hard. “I’m sure the blue-blooded Montegomery family would welcome the child of a courtesan and a brewery owner. I am not a fool, Oliver, although you continually seem to think me one.”

“I never thought that,” he insisted earnestly. “Far from it. I admire you, Vivianna. You are the woman of my dreams. Let me help you, I want to.”

The woman of his dreams?
Vivianna stared. He seemed to be sincere. Was it possible he was telling her the truth? Had it all been a ploy to keep her safe from Lawson? Had he agreed to the night at the Anchor because he wanted her as much as she wanted him?

It would explain so much.

And yet, Vivianna did not dare trust him.

“Do you know,” she burst out, “I much preferred you when you were a rake! Everything was so much simpler then. Now, will you just answer my question?”

“Question?” He felt utterly baffled. She preferred him when he was a
rake
? What in God’s name did she mean by that? After she had lectured and harassed him for his lack of compassion, now she wanted that man back again? Or…Oliver frowned. Was it his physical attentions she was missing?

Was she missing him with the same sort of desperate
need
as he was missing her? He only had to remember her body naked before him on the bed at the Anchor, her mouth open in a little “Oh” of surprise, as he pulled her toward him and slid himself inside her. Seeing his body entering hers had given him a primitive thrill he had never felt before.
You are mine!
The words had rung in his head. They still did.

“Oliver?” She was peering impatiently into his face. “Oliver, did you hear me? I said, will you sell me Candlewood?”

He laughed, and this time it was with relief. “No,” he said.

He had surprised her—he had surprised himself. Suddenly he did not feel nearly so confused. She wanted him. She had been angry after the night at the Anchor. Because he had deceived her? Yes. But also because she believed he had been playacting all along, that he had not really wanted her as desperately, as madly, as he said he did. She was an innocent—another, more experienced woman would have realized he was not pretending. But Oliver had convinced her too well, and she truly believed their kisses and all that followed had been a lie. Time to set her straight.

“Why won’t you sell Candlewood?” she demanded.
She was pursing her lips. He felt the stirring heat in his groin.

“Some things aren’t for sale for money, and Candlewood is one of them.”

“But you don’t want it!”

“Don’t I?”

Vivianna stared at him wildly. “I don’t understand. Perhaps you don’t realize how wealthy Fraser is. He could buy and sell your aunt three times over.”

Oliver grinned. “Are you boasting about the amount of blunt your father has, Vivianna? Hardly the behavior of a reformer, is it?”

“I’m not boasting! Name your price.”

He gave her a lazy smile. Her eyes narrowed, suddenly suspicious, but he noticed she no longer looked quite as comfortable with the situation as she had. Good.

“Name my price? Is that what you said?”

“Yes.” Vivianna bit her lip.

“Then I want you.
You
are my price.”

Vivianna knew she was staring at him. She couldn’t help it. The room was swirling about her, or maybe she was dreaming. He wanted her? How was that so? She had believed he would look at her offer from a purely financial view—this was the new Oliver and he would be as cold and pitiless as he had been after they left the Anchor. But he wasn’t. He was looking at her in that particular manner.

Like the rake.

Despite her confusion, and her need to be cautious, Vivianna felt a treacherous shiver run down her spine. Desire curled in her stomach, and her breath quickened.

“Well, Vivianna, I’m waiting. What is your answer?
You for Candlewood. That was the deal you wanted to do with me at the opera. I must admit I was rather put out at the time—my feelings were hurt—but I’ve finally come ’round to it. I’ve decided I’ll have you at any price, even if that means giving you Candlewood.”

“No. My answer is no. Of course it’s no.”

“Why not? You know I need an heir, and I think we would make a very nice heir together. I would have to marry you, of course, but I wouldn’t mind that. I quite like having you about, when you’re not lecturing me.”

“Oliver,” she gasped, and her face twisted as if she were in pain. “Stop it. You know I can’t…can’t marry you. Apart from the fact that you lied to me, and humiliated me. I am—”

“I lied to you to protect you. I’m sorry if I humiliated you. I didn’t mean to. I was worried Lawson would see how much you meant to me and hurt you just to hurt me. Vivianna, this sounds bloody stupid now, but I lied to you because I love you.”

She was staring at him, the color rising in her cheeks, her eyes dark and bewildered. She didn’t believe him completely, but she was beginning to. In a moment he would have won her back.

“Oliver—”

Beneath them came a loud, echoing thud.

Vivianna jumped and Oliver cursed. Then, seeing Vivianna’s shocked face, he reached out and took her hand in his, his fingers strong and warm.

“He can’t get out,” he said quietly.

“What if he does?” she whispered, and realized she was shaking. “He’ll be so angry. I don’t think I can face him again.”

“If he does, then I’ll deal with him. It’s the least I can do after what you did for me.” Oliver put his arms
around her, and despite herself Vivianna relaxed against him. He felt so good.

“Maybe I didn’t express myself quite as I should have when I first arrived,” he said against her hair. “I should have said you were the bravest, most wonderful woman I know. And that in capturing Lawson and finding those letters I owe you a lifetime of thank-you’s.”

“Eddie found the letters,” she reminded him, her breath warm against his neck. “And Ellen.”

“I’ll thank them, too.”

He leaned back, gazing down into her eyes. His mouth was so close; and then he smiled. Suddenly there he was. Oliver, the man who had turned her into a passionate and loving woman. The man who had set the seductress in her free.

Her
Oliver.

Blindly, Vivianna lifted her lips to his.

The door at the end of the gallery banged open. “Miss! Miss!” Eddie’s voice echoed wildly all around them. “The bobbies are here!”

After that there was no time for kisses. Oliver seemed to know one of the policemen—Sergeant Ackroyd—and he showed him the letters. Vivianna saw his expression twist in disgust. Then the lion was rolled back and Lawson, gray-faced, eyes watchful, was helped out.

“This man,” he said in a shaking but authorative voice, “kept me prisoner. You know who I am. Arrest him!”

Oliver shook his head. “It’s no use, Lawson. They know. We all know. Even if you manage to convince them they’ve arrested the wrong man, it can’t be for long. Soon everyone will know. Even Queen Victoria…especially the queen.”

Lawson’s mouth turned down. “Ancient history,” he retorted angrily, but it was a bluff.

“I hardly think she will view it in that way. That you wrote to Sir John Conroy, offering him your support in his efforts to bully the queen? That you were prepared to help him rule the country from behind the throne after her coronation? You even put yourself forward as prime minister. From memory I think your words were, ‘I know how to handle spoilt bitches. I have a kennel full at home.’”

“Old news,” Lawson cut through his words, the desperation more audible. “Folly, I agree, but why should a man’s reputation be damned for something that happened so many years ago?”

Oliver could not help but be amazed by him. Lawson stood tall and intimidating, looking half crazed with self-righteousness. He could not believe he had done wrong; he would not believe it. There was no repentance in him. Everything must be sacrificed to the altar of his own ego—Anthony, Oliver, even the queen herself.

“How did you get the letters back from Conroy?” Oliver asked him, stepping closer.

Lawson flashed him a vicious look. For a moment it seemed as if he would not answer, and then anger tightened his jaw. “I paid him for them. I had to buy them back. He agreed and I thought it was all over, and then they happened to be delivered to my house when Anthony was there, waiting for me, alone.”

“And he noticed the address and the handwriting and he could not help himself. He read them.”

Lawson shrugged. “If you say so.”

“I do say so, my lord. He found you out. He was cleverer than you. He was a
better
man than you.”

“Stubborn and stupid.” Lawson dismissed his oldest and dearest friend.

Oliver nodded to Sergeant Ackroyd, and two of the constables came forward and planted large hands on Lawson’s shoulders. “You are going to be taken to see the queen, Lawson,” he said softly. “You can explain it to her. And then I want to know all about how you murdered Anthony.”

Lawson stiffened. “You can prove nothing.”

“Perhaps. But I mean to try.”

For a moment it seemed as if Lawson would refuse to go, and then his face went slack and he shook his head. “To be locked up by a scatterbrained woman and two grubby brats,” he said, as if he couldn’t believe his ill fortune.

“You should never underestimate the power of a woman,” Vivianna declared, thinking of the queen.

Lawson cast up his eyes. “Take me away, gentlemen, I beg you.”

Oliver barely had time to smile at her as he followed them out.

Vivianna hurried after them, but Oliver was all business now. He was accompanying the policemen and Lawson back to London. Vivianna stood on the front steps of Candlewood and watched while he drove away and the two children waved frantically at the departing vehicles.

Then she sat down on the stairs.

He had asked her to marry him. He had said he loved her. The confusion and joy that had first washed over her when he spoke those words had receded. Vivianna Greentree, who had always declared she paid no heed to society’s rules and strictures, who believed that people should be judged on what they
did rather than who they were, had come to a painful realization.

She could not possibly marry Oliver Montegomery.

Not if she wanted to be happy, and to make him happy.

He was a Montegomery, a member of a proud and ancient aristocratic family. Whatever he might say to the contrary, that heritage clung to him and had formed him into what he was. Lawson had been right in that, if nothing else. Oliver would be expected to marry the daughter of an earl at the very least.

Vivianna, the bastard daughter of Aphrodite and Fraser, was barred from polite society. She had been sneered at, stared at askance, and her family was ostracized and ridiculed. She might ignore all that and still insist on marrying him, but it would be a cruel and selfish act.