Reckless Rules (Brambridge Novel 4) (36 page)

“Ah. Brandy. Now that’s what I call a treat,” Eustacia said with satisfaction, waving her hand in front of her face. “I thought we might have some of it as a celebration. I’ve been saving it from a long time ago—twenty years in fact. I’ll be interested to see what it tastes like.”

It was some of the finest brandy that Bill had tasted. And in his time at the tiller of the
Rocket
, importing French goods illegally onto British soil, he had tasted a lot.

The maid refilled their glasses and retired back into the hall. Bill supposed that she had retreated back to the kitchen away from the heavy pall of smoke.

Victoria finally laid her cigar in a small ashtray and picked up her second glass of brandy. “You don’t seem too surprised to see us,” she said, glancing under her eyelashes at Eustacia. “It’s almost as if you have been waiting for us.”

“Oh, every time you came here I wondered,” Eustacia said with a small smile. She mirrored Victoria’s movements and put her own cigar into the ash tray. “Augustus wrote me a letter. He said that he had confessed everything to you, but that it might take you time to find out.”

“He wrote you a letter? But I thought that you said he didn’t speak to you once he set you up here.”

“It was only the once. It had to be that way, you see. He was afraid that Paul Butterworth might find me.”

“I believe he’s dead now,” Bill couldn’t help interjecting. He felt like a spare part sat between these two women and their cigars.

Eustacia nodded, it seemed a little sadly. “And that is the way it should be.”

“But why did he write you a letter, Eustacia?” Victoria insisted. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“He was afraid that he was dying, Victoria. He was tasting blood when he coughed. He had seen innumerable doctors. None of them could cure him. He wanted to ensure your future. He was still afraid that Paul would come back.”

“And he did.” Victoria sat back in her chair and tossed back the second glass of brandy in her hand. Bill watched as she gasped. “Why didn’t you tell me when I came to see you? Why all the rigmarole?”

Eustacia sat forward in her seat. She took Victoria’s hand in hers, glancing pityingly at Bill. “Do you love your young man?” she asked Victoria earnestly. When Victoria wouldn’t look at her, she put out a crabbed fist and tipped Victoria’s chin to hers. “Do you love him, Victoria?”

Silently Victoria nodded, tears streaming down her face. She turned to look yearningly at Bill. Bill put his hands on the side of his chair and half pushed himself to his feet.

Eustacia waved him down with her other hand. He sat back without a word.

“I loved someone once,” Eustacia said softly. “He was older than I was, and he had his flaws. He, his brother and I, we made up a trio. We played silly games, called ourselves amateur detectives, made up some rules that we would use in our investigations.”

Bill brought himself to his feet again as Victoria took in a shuddering breath. She had talked about rules. Surely these childhood things could not be one and the same?

Eustacia’s eyes unfocused slightly and she gazed at the wall at the opposite end of the room. “I loved that silly man but he told me to wait. That he wanted to spend some time living the life to which he should have been accustomed. When I reasoned with him he quoted ‘Be patient,’ at me, and then refused to talk anymore.”

“Rule number eight,” Victoria said softly, hanging her head.

Eustacia refocused her gaze and picked up her cigar. “Why yes, so it was.” She glanced quickly with concern at Victoria. “I had forgotten.”

“Why didn’t you marry him?” Victoria frowned. “If you loved him why didn’t you just wait and marry him?”

It was Eustacia’s turn to frown at Victoria. “Speaks the woman who seems to be giving her young man the run around.” She gave a sympathetic grin to Bill. “I can see what you are dealing with now. A very severe case of self-denial.”

“I… I… the rules!” Victoria said despairingly.

“Sod the rules,” Eustacia said grimly. “They are the reason I have spent sixty lonely years. And the reason why you will spend sixty lonely years if you don’t get rid of them.”

“It was Ponsonby, wasn’t it?” Bill said suddenly as he reviewed the contents of the painting in his head. “You were waiting for Ponsonby.”

Eustacia nodded. “But he died. Augustus blamed himself.”

“But you called him Poisonby!” Victoria exclaimed. “You said he looked at you when you weren’t looking.”

Eustacia chuckled. “So he did. It was a real case of love at first sight. We couldn’t stop looking at each other. I might have fibbed a bit about his name. We called him Poisonby after one of our investigations nearly ended his life.” Eustacia sobered. “Of course inadvertently it did end his life. You see, he was asked by a family friend to investigate who was the father of their daughter’s child. It turned out the father was Ponsonby’s own brother, Paul.”

“Pedro,” Bill breathed.

Eustacia frowned. “I believe the child was called Peter. His mother hated him. He hated her. The child’s conception was not… natural if you see what I mean. The child itself was not natural. It was like its father.”

“He’s dead too, Peter I mean,” Bill said. It was a sad tale, with an unhappy ending.

Eustacia nodded. “I am glad Clare did not live to see this day. She never loved her son. She gave her money in trust to Lord Colchester to manage when she died. I administer the trust now. The beneficiaries are the paupers in the East End, the streetwalkers, and all those that fall victim to others.”

“How appropriate,” Victoria murmured, thinking of the women that Pedro had abducted.

Eustacia jerked her head in response. “It was the way Clare wanted it to be.” She picked up her cigar again and inhaled, blowing an expert smoke ring to the ceiling. “Of course that bastard Paul knew all about the rules. He knew that we investigated who was the father of Clare’s baby. He knew that Augustus made it so that he had no claim to his son. His anger festered. And then he came back, loaded a shotgun and stole away with the child. That’s why Augustus hid me from him, to make sure that Paul didn’t give me the same fate. Of course Augustus had to bully me into it. I called it blackmail and threatened him with exposure, but he convinced me that this was the right life to have.” Eustacia sighed and looked at her wrinkled hands. “Sometimes I’m not so sure. I’ve been so
lonely
.”

CHAPTER 37

Victoria glanced down at the roll of canvas that lay underneath the seat of the white barouche. Bill sat opposite her. He had barely said two words since their visit to Eustacia.

He met her glance now.

“You asked me once to make a list of reasons why you should marry me,” he said quietly. “I had spent so much time thinking about what you marrying me would give
me
, that I had barely thought about yourself.”

Victoria opened her mouth to speak, but Bill waved away her words. He stood and, staggering slightly, sat down next to her on the hard white leather of the seats.

“I made a list. But I didn’t get very far. It included points such as our dogs liking each other, and the fact that you could be mistress of Brambridge Manor.”

Victoria choked back a surprised laugh. They were indeed practical points.

“My inability to put concrete facts to paper nagged at me. Who would want me? A man with little discernible talent, who had an uncertain place in society? For God’s sake, I couldn’t even get that list from Pedro Moreno before I fell on him and killed him.”       Bill twisted his lips in disgust.

“Little talent?” Victoria exclaimed blinking. “Whatever made you think that? As far as I can understand and according to my brother, your ability to make people
talk,
really talk, is unparalleled. Look at what you did to Eustacia… you didn’t even have to say anything and she practically babbled. It’s not just women, Bill, men fall under your spell just the same. You are welcomed practically everywhere you go in the ton, never mind the sticklers that complain—they find fault in everyone.”

Bill grunted. A long arm snaked around her waist. “And it doesn’t stop there,” she continued. “You understand people. You only needed to speak to me to understand what I was suffering. I… I haven’t had a return of the blackness since. And without your massive strength in freeing yourself from those chains I dread to think what Pedro would have done to me.”

Victoria sat looking forward as Bill leaned forward and nuzzled her neck. “And then there is the matter of the treatment that you gave me… not the type that you gave Celine.” Victoria gasped as hot breath blew in her ear. “I find it is of the very talented variety Mr. Stand—ish.” Victoria squealed as lips took hold of her ear and tugged gently. She shook her head and with pushed Bill away. “And as for that list…” Victoria swallowed. “Would something like this be of interest?” She reached into her bodice as Bill’s eyes grew round, and pushed a small slip of paper into Bill’s large hand. She hunched his shoulders as he began to read.

“Bloody hell,” was all he said. “Bloody hell.”

“Pedro pushed it into my dress before the auction,” Victoria babbled. “I forgot about it in the following moments…” She brought her eyes up to meet Bill’s gaze. The expression in his eyes was unfathomable. “Chantelle found it when she shook out my dress. I didn’t read it until the following morning. I didn’t understand what it was for until I remembered that you were looking for a list of names…”

“I have been trying to talk to you for two
weeks
,” Bill said, slapping his knee. “Dammit, Victoria, you are infuriating. I’ve been having to make plans to go after the mysterious Mr. Khaffar. Your brother and Freddie just looked at me with
pity.
”

Victoria swallowed. “I needed to have some time to think.”

“Think?”

“To think about what Eustacia had said. And about what I was going to say to you.”

“Dammit, Victoria. You could have just given me the paper, and not told me anything.”

“No! I wasn’t thinking about that,” Victoria wailed a little. “I wanted to work out a way to use the rules one last time to tell you why
I
should marry you.” Victoria plucked at her skirt and cast Bill a shy glance. Bill frowned at her. “Eustacia was right. They were ruining my life. But I can’t just cast them aside. I, I clung to them like a life raft, but you only need a life raft when you are at sea. Now that I’ve reached dry land, I can choose when and whether or not to use them.”

“Life raft? How many rules are there?” Bill asked suspiciously, still clutching the list.

“Ten, no thirteen. I made up three myself.” Victoria laughed suddenly and licked her lips. “The first is
make friends with servants…
”

“Very apt,” Bill said with a twist to his lips. “A smith is a servant in a way. And Victoria.” Bill paused and pushed back a lock of her golden hair with his free hand. “I would have been your servant in
any way
you liked, all you had to do was say the word.”

Victoria gasped as a warm flush heated the bottom of her neck. “The second,” she continued breathlessly, “is
do the minimal work and allow them to tell you themselves
. Well I’m reversing that. You should do the minimum work. Bill, I love you, I want to marry you. I always have done, but bloody rule three…” Victoria stopped as Bill brought his head down and caught her lips in a bruising kiss. “Bloody rule three,” she gasped, waving at the coachman who had turned to see what the commotion was, “always got in the way,
keep up appearances.”

“That,” Bill murmured, “is definitely a rule you should discard, unless… unless the appearance that you want to keep up is that of the passionate, fiery woman that lies beneath.”

Victoria shivered as Bill stroked her bare arm. “I haven’t finished. Rule four says
if discovered act like nothing has happened.
You discovered me Bill, not in the physical sense but in the sense of the true me. No one else has ever done that, not even my brother. I can’t act like nothing has happened. You, you have
changed
me.”

“You did say that you didn’t have to obey all the rules.”

Victoria nodded. “Rule five…
analyse what you have learned.
I should have done that long ago. Here was a man in front of me that continued to interest himself in me despite repeated rejections. I placed too high a regard on who I was, my place in the ton, keeping myself together mind and body. I didn’t seek to understand who you really were. I’m sorry.”

Bill threw his head back and laughed. “Do you know what Freddie said to me?” he said seriously. “He said that I was a jumped up smith trying to get together with a highborn lady. But that was alright because I wasn’t pretending to be anything other than what I was. Even though to be honest I had a hard time working out
who
I was.” Bill pushed the list that he still clutched into his pocket and turned his body fully to her.

Victoria shook her head. “Poor Freddie. He needs a woman to take him in hand. Or at least something else to occupy his interest.”       

Bill shook her arm lightly. “Tell me more about the rules, my love.”

“Oh, rule six and seven, don’t jump to conclusions and don’t pressure your suspects.” She swallowed. “The conclusion that I draw is that for my own sanity, Mr. Standish, you should marry me. And in direct contravention of the rules, if you don’t marry me, I shall see that Percy and George and the rest of the rabble make your life uncomfortable for the rest of your days.” Victoria tried to inject as much light heartedness into her voice as possible. But she was serious. She had spent so much time refusing to marry the man that now, when she wanted it most, she could not believe that he might ask again.

“Percy and George, eh?” Bill cocked his massive head on one side and sat back in his seat, crossing one large elegantly clad thigh across the other. Victoria gulped and vowed to continue.

“Rule eight.” She stopped and coughed. “Rules eight and nine,
be patient
and
don’t allow anyone to get too close
.”