JAMES STEPPED INTO the establishment, unaware of what he was getting himself into. The facility was pristine, making it evident that the crown gave the Home Office a handsome budget. Portraits of some of the greatest commanders in the last few decades lined the wall. A scrawny man sat scribbling on a page, his spectacles slipping from his face ever so often.
James tapped the desk impatiently with his fingers, trying to get his attention.
The man placed down his spectacles with an annoyed sigh, "May I help you?"
"I am quite certain you might. I require some information on the death of an earl and duke."
"We are not in the business of sharing his majesty's secrets Mr—"
"—It is actually the Duke of Lennox," James said coldly. He internally sighed, he tried the nice routine and it clearly never worked. Waving around his title was the only way things seemed to get done. Gilford may not be right about many things, but the Bow Street Runner was accurate in this aspect.
"Well," the man stammered, "I shall see what I can find. But I must warn you, it might take a while. My superiors are quite busy and do not take such request lightly. There are many levels of authority I need to refer to..."
"Lennox!" a voice boomed.
Both James and the man spun around as the Duke of Wellington walked towards them, dressed in his red uniform.
"Wellington," James said in a way of greeting. "I thought it was merely a rumor that you wore your uniform everywhere."
Wellington gave him a smile, surprising James. It seemed that the hero of Waterloo possessed a sense of humor. "I'm only here to clear a few things, I have a visit with Prinny later."
James cocked his eyebrows, "Hence the uniform?"
"Hence the uniform," Wellington echoed. "What brings you here though, I would imagine White's being more your scene."
"It normally is," James said, before his voice turned a note more somber. "However, I've been investigating my father's death. I don't believe it was an accident and new evidence has come to light. I was hoping that the Home Office had some record of the incident."
Wellington nodded his thin face scrunching in thought, "Your father perished in a carriage incident, wasn't it?"
"Yes, alongside the Earl of Westmoreland."
"Two aristocrats, one incident. I can see why it would seem rather suspicious."
"Yes," James said. "Hence my investigation."
"Well, I wish you luck in your findings. But take my advice Lennox, sometimes it's not worth opening a book that's been shut for quite sometime. The dust may inadvertently blow into your eyes." Wellington turned to the man at the desk. "Do get him the information he requires, if they need clearance say that it was under my orders."
The man paled but nodded, he wasn't idiotic enough to argue with the Duke of Wellington.
"I'll be off now."
James shook his hand, "Thank you," he said sincerely.
Wellington nodded, disappearing back into the streets of London.
James turned back to the man and raised an eyebrow, "The information?"
The man scampered away with being told once more.
***
As James entered the house, his mind was still reeling from all the information he learned today. He passed his hat and coat to Preston.
"Good evening Your Grace, will you be joining the ladies for supper?"
James absentmindedly nodded, his brain still processing the events at the Home Office. He began walking towards his study, but Preston's words made him pause.
"Lady Torrington refused to see the physician that arrived this morning Your Grace."
James spun around slowly, "Pardon me?"
"She personally escorted the man right out of the door before he even had a chance to enter."
James scowled. The last thing he needed was the burden of his great-aunt's antics. He had bigger business he needed to deal with. Not only that, but James had paid a handsome amount to get the physician to come and check on his aunt with such short notice. To think she completely disregarded his orders...
"Thank you for telling me, I'll deal with it."
Preston bowed and James walked back to his study. He poured himself a hefty amount of brandy before drinking the contents in one fell swoop. Collapsing into the chair he groaned. James was almost certain that his father and the previous Earl of Westmoreland had been murdered. The reports from the incident said that there was single bullet in both bodies, straight to the heart for each of them. Only skilled marksmen could achieve such a feat. It was a professional who had done the deed. The possibility of it being an intelligence officer or someone from the dark parts of London was increasing.
The purpose still remained unknown. His father had not been involved in the army nor had he had any dealings with them—at least to James' knowledge. On the other hand, there was no information about the previous Earl. Maybe he could gather some information from his brother. He wrote out a note to the Earl's residence, requesting a meeting. He didn't say what it was, but if the lord believed it was for business, James was sure he was more likely to agree to the request.
Glancing at his pocket watch he slowly got up from his chair, only to knock his ribs into the desk. He winced; the side was still tender from the kick Tom had bestowed upon him. What did please him however, was that the boy had been seen at the docks and was being put to work at one of his shipping companies.
Slowly, he made his way upstairs back into his room and called for Hutton, his valet. After his disappearance at dinner for many days, he knew that Aunt Esme would be getting on his case about his disheveled look these days. Well, he would shut her mouth before she had the opportunity to open it.
***
"It must be quite the special evening having you join us for dinner tonight." Aunt Esme said politely.
James grabbed the napkin with a flourish and placed it on his lap. "It is, I apologize for my disappearance the last few days, I've been quite busy."
"We understand," Vivienne said softly.
She was dressed in quite a fetching peach-coloured gown that made her skin look soft, almost fairy-like in the luminance. He ignored the thought as soon as it entered his head, she was his ward and nothing more. It would not do him any good to have thoughts like that.
"Good, because Preston had some rather interesting information, he divulged the other day, I must tell him that he was mistaken in his appraisal."
Vivienne's skin turned a shade of pink and she dropped her gaze.
"Oh, for goodness sake, leave the girl alone," his great-aunt snapped. "London does make you nastier, doesn't it?"
He momentarily felt guilty for making her feel embarrassed. She should not be, he knew how lonely it was to eat without anyone around—after all he'd done it for years. However, he washed away any feelings of remorse with a sip of wine. His gaze met his aunt's grey ones. "You know what does make me nasty?" James asked softly. "When people undermine my plans."
"Well, that is a bit difficult to do because we don't particularly know what your plans are now, do we?"
James' fingers clenched his knife as he cut the pork. As usual, his aunt was being difficult, but he didn't have the patience to deal with her—not tonight. "Why did you send the physician away before he could take a look at you?"
"Because I am fine," Aunt Esme said coldly. "I know my body and what it can handle. I don't need you to look after me like a mother hen!"
"Well, if I don't look after you, then who will?"
His aunt set down her wine glass and sighed. Her grey eyes looked rather tired when she fixed them on his person, "James, look at me. I'm an old widow who miraculously outlived my husband, brother and both your parents. I came to terms with my death a long time ago and wish not to be prodded by physicians who think they know everything about the human body when they do not."
James did not want to think about what his great-aunt was suggesting. She was the last living member of his family. Although they didn't see each other much, he was grateful to her for helping him when he lost his parents, and now again with Vivienne.
"Don't say that," James said harshly. "That is why the doctors can help you live longer."
His aunt laughed, startling James greatly. "James, nobody can increase a person's lifespan. And even if they were able to, I wouldn't want that. It can get tiring to live so long but you mistaken my words. I do not plan on closing my eyes permanently right now, after all I have to make sure Vivienne ensnares a good match."
Vivienne and Aunt Esme shared a small smile. For the first time, he saw that his aunt, the cranky old women had grown to care for this gentle lady. He hadn't thought about how lonely it might have been for Aunt Esme, all those years by herself, watching the seasons go by. He was grateful that with Vivienne, she got a renewed sense of purpose, hopefully one that would keep her past whatever was ailing her.
He took a bite of his food; he would leave his aunt alone—at least for right now. Switching the subject, he turned to Vivienne, hoping to engage her and make up for his hurtful words. "I heard that you had quite the shopping trip today."
"We did," Vivienne said softly, she met his eyes for a moment, and he saw the uncertainty of his words flash over her before she quickly turned back to her food.
In that moment, James hated that he'd humiliated her. She wasn't like the cunning ladies of London, he had to remember that whenever he spoke to her. "Well, I hope you made good use of my accounts, it is the least I can do for my attitude tonight."
He saw a brief smile come upon Vivienne's face while Lady Torrington's eyes gleamed, "We did. We also ran into Lady Cobham."
James almost choked on his wine as his aunt continued.
"She was rather polite and invited Vivienne to tea along with the other debutantes."
James' head swivelled towards Vivienne, "will you go?"
Vivienne shrugged her shoulder, "If it's fine with Lady Torrington, then I will."
James held back his tongue in what he really wanted to say. He had done enough damage for the night and now it was time to make amends. He turned to the two women who had changed his life very drastically in the last few months. "I would like to apologize for my behaviour. I've been going through some difficult news and did not take it the best way. Next time, I'll make sure to dine elsewhere, so I don't ruin your evening."
"Oh James, don't be foolish. We are family, if you are in a terrible mood, we can talk about it, instead of you sulking around London."
Vivienne nodded immediately and a feeling of warmness blanketed James. He wiped his face with his napkin and rose, "Thank you both for an enjoyable evening. I must get back to my business, but it was nice to get away for a while."
"Anytime you need it, we are here." Vivienne said.
James turned his back and hid the smile, but the words truly did stay with him.
***
Vivienne glanced out the window and sighed. She missed the view back at Chalcott manor, where the beautiful gardens could be viewed at a moments notice. Here all she saw was cobblestone and the other townhouses in the streets. It was astounding to her that there was not a patch of grass to be seen near them.
When she shared her feelings with Lady Torrington, the dowager had commented that the country was the country for a reason. Then the dowager suggested that she travel to Hyde park where there would be plenty of trees and the murky waters of the Serpentine. Vivienne had grown excited, but the feelings soon dulled when she realized there was nobody to take her.
After sharing a rather tense dinner with them a few days ago, James had gone back to being cooped in his study. Because it was attached to the library, and Vivienne didn't want to bother him, she hadn't been able to get new books to read either.
For the tenth time Vivienne's fingers crinkled over the letter that had arrived from Fiona earlier today. Although Vivienne had been unable to see her friend since her arrival to London, she was excited to finally reunite with her tomorrow night at Almack's.
Vivienne's heart fluttered as she remembered that she would be coming out tomorrow. She had waited for Lady Cobham's invitation to join her and some of the other debutante for tea, but it had surprisingly never arrived. It only made her more nervous, not knowing anyone except for Fiona. Not only that, but she also didn't know if people would believe her backstory of arriving from America after being away for a couple of years.
She moved the letter to the side and read the column Millie had discreetly provided her this morning. It was a gossip column that talked about the ton and the various activities occurring in society. She read the last paragraph on the page which spoke about the debutantes coming out at Almack's. Vivienne held the column to her chest tightly. Tomorrow night, all her dreams would be coming true—and she could not be happier.
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Why would someone want to murder two aristocrats? I'd love to hear your theories. Also, aren't we happy to see a duke who admits and apologizes when he steps out of line? James noticing Vivienne's dress ;)