Chapter 14

fourteen

A NGELINE COULDN'T STOP pacing moments before her ridiculous debut as a pianist. If the situation hadn't terrified her, she'd laugh.

She mentally rehearsed her hand movements. Not that she needed to be extremely precise. The piano had been turned to an angle from where the audience wouldn't see her hands. But if she moved her hands at the wrong moments, like during a pause in the music, she'd look like an idiot. Or worse, the fraud she was.

"Angeline." Royston entered the sitting room where the silent piano was.

Her gaze dropped unbidden to his sculpted lips. Goodness. She'd kissed him. She wanted to kiss him again. But not now. The whole absurd affair of her playing the piano hadn't allowed her to think of Royston.

"I'm nervous," she said.

"No need to be." He stopped next to her. His warmth stroked her cheek. "We practised. You can do it."

"Will you kiss me again?" Dash it. She clamped a hand over her mouth. "Sorry. I blurt things out when I'm nervous."

He laughed, his hazel eyes shining. "Then you should be nervous more often, and yes, I'll kiss you again. Gladly."

Mama entered the room, fixing a wayward curl. "It's time. My lord, please go to the other room. Darling, you look lovely. You'll be great. I'm so proud of you."

Angeline scowled. "For what possible reason? I'm not doing anything but fooling people."

Royston gave her an encouraging smile before disappearing into the study.

At least a kiss would be her reward. And Mama had promised not to interfere with her choice of a husband.

Let the farce begin.

From the study, Royston could hear the sounds of footfalls and the voices of Mrs. Haywood's guests— Havisham, Lady Redvers, and her daughter.

He'd wait until the end of the performance to search the room when he was sure no one would disturb him, but he couldn't deny a nervous thrill going through him. It was like the old times when he'd snuck inside a house to steal money and jewels. Guilt was giving him a headache, but if he wanted that bloody seat in the House of Lords, he had to be a thief one last time.

Even through the wall, Angeline's voice sounded forced and strained. If anything, the ruse proved she wasn't a good liar or comfortable deceiving others. She'd been truly upset and nervous earlier. She couldn't be involved in her mother's business. He refused to consider that option.

Mrs. Haywood's voice instead burst with joy. "I'm thrilled to have you all here today. It was about time that Angeline's incredible talent was recognised."

"What are you going to play for us, Miss Haywood?" Lady Redvers said.

"A waltz from…" Angeline hesitated. "Strauss's Emperor Waltz, my lady."

There were shuffling and whispering noises.

"Well, we're ready," Angeline said in a too-cheerful voice.

That was the signal. He counted to ten and started. He did his best to follow the music in the way he and Angeline had planned it. The notes drifted from his piano, loud and clear.

The music brought back good memories of when he'd played for his mother, and some not so pleasant memories of when she'd died. Sometimes her pale face, contorted with pain, filled his vision; the image was so vivid he believed he could touch her. Certainly, the pain he felt was real.

He finished the piece with a bitter-sweet feeling in his chest. If Angeline had done her part well, their ruse would work.

"Wonderful, Miss Haywood," Havisham said. "I believe that the piano is your true calling. Forget archery. You have a future as a pianist. Don't you agree, Lady Redvers?"

"Thank you, my lord." That was Angeline.

"Well, I had no idea Miss Haywood was such a talent." Lady Redvers's bitter tone betrayed her annoyance.

"Miss Haywood has real talent," Miss Taylor said. "I would love to hear about your tricks for performing the most difficult passages."

"I… well…" Angeline coughed. "Hard work."

Royston smiled. Good answer.

"Bassett will serve tea now," Mrs. Haywood said.

"Actually," Lady Redvers said. "I'd love to listen to something else."

"Excuse me?" Angeline sounded panicked.

"Chopin, please," Lady Redvers said.

"But I haven't rehearsed anything else."

"A nocturne? A skilled musician as you won't find it difficult."

Lady Redvers had a point. If there was one composer pianists obsessed with, it was Chopin. The bread and butter of every musician.

"Please, Miss Haywood," Lady Redvers insisted. "We'd be delighted."

He ought to intervene. If he improvised a sudden visit, Angeline wouldn't need to play. The search would wait. He started to stand up when Havisham talked.

"Don't be angry with me, Miss Haywood," Havisham said. "But I need a nice cup of tea. Perhaps we might continue another day."

"I agree," Angeline and her mother said together.

As the sounds of porcelain cups and saucers clinking together came, Royston rose from the bench gingerly. The voices and music carried through the vent so well he ought to be careful, or the guests would realise someone was in the adjoining room.

At least, the thick carpet muffled his footsteps.

He gave a quick search to the oak desk that took up a corner of the room. Mrs. Haywood kept everything in perfect order— pencils sharpened and straightened, documents neatly stacked, and books precisely set away. The drawer contained spare pieces of paper. The cabinets were locked, unsurprisingly.

But he'd come prepared. He hadn't picked a lock in years, but criminal skills were like riding a bicycle— once learnt, they couldn't be forgotten. Perhaps it was true that once a thief, always a thief.

It took him a few tweaks and attempts to unlock the cabinet. He inched the drawer open, revealing a stack of documents.

"Bloody hell," he whispered.

A long file of folders filled the cabinet. The labels showed the names of gentlemen in alphabetical order. There had to be a few dozen of them. Some names were struck out, maybe indicating the relationship with the gentleman had been terminated.

He skimmed through the labels and stopped when he reached the letter ‘H.' There it was.

Havisham's folder wasn't particularly thick, but to make sure Royston was taking the right batch of documents, he went through the content. The earl hadn't lied. Paid bills in fancy hotels, paid dinners, and some explicit photographs illustrated Havisham's infidelity in all its gory details.

There were even passionate letters in which the earl declared his undying love for her and his unhappiness with his wife. To his credit, the bills and letters didn't show any recent dates, so it looked like he was telling the truth about having stopped seeing her.

In another document, a series of numbers were recorded. One hundred pounds, fifty pounds, two hundred pounds… no doubt. Mrs. Haywood had blackmailed Havisham for a while, asking for money regularly. Angeline's mother did this. All true. She had blackmailed at least fifty gentlemen.

Mrs. Haywood wouldn't need to blackmail anyone again if she agreed to stop exploiting fallen women and receive an allowance from him. He had the means to provide for Angeline and her mother.

Shaking his head, he emptied the folder and slid the documents under his jacket. After putting the folder back in the cabinet, he searched the other drawers for the infamous list of fallen women. More folders on men, expenses, and bills, but no list of women. More photographs, some rather old. There was a list of addresses and flats around London, and another list of drug suppliers and smugglers at the black market— who knew for what reason? But that was it.

His search turned frantic as he went through as many folders as possible. Nothing else. Plenty of incriminating material, but not a single piece of paper on fallen women.

Footsteps sounded closer. He carefully locked the cabinet, wondering where the bloody list of women could be.

He had barely time to sit back on the piano bench when the door opened.

Angeline swept into view, lovely with her hair twisted in a gentle chignon and a few curls framing her cheeks. Just looking at her calmed his ragged heartbeat. She beckoned him to follow her.

He left the study as the chatter came from the sitting room and followed her to the back of the house.

She unlocked the rear door. "Thank you. Everything went perfectly."

Yes, it did. More or less.

When Mrs. Haywood realised Havisham's documents were gone, it wouldn't take long to guess who had removed them. But she might not check the folder soon, and since Havisham wasn't seeing her anymore, chances were Mrs. Haywood might not realise her documents were missing.

But Angeline… she wouldn't be happy to know what he'd done. Although if she learnt he'd taken those documents, she would also learn what her mother did, but she had to know that already. Hell. He needed to tell her what he was doing and find out the truth.

"Angeline…" Maybe it wasn't the right moment. "May I see you later? I need to talk to you."

The rest of what he wanted to say was cut off by her kiss. She rose on her tiptoes and kissed him hard on the mouth. He closed his eyes to savour the softness of her lips and the delicious curves of her body against his as she kissed him with desperation.

The kiss had a lot of passion but was also a little messy. She bit his lips and clashed her teeth against his more than once. Not that her technique mattered, but it was a further reminder that she was innocent, more fragile than he was, that he could hurt her in more ways than one.

She lowered her heels and dragged her hands down from his neck to his chest. "Thank you."

He held her by the waist, wishing to tell her everything. All of it. From what he'd discovered about her mother to the warm feeling for her in his chest. Her large, trusting eyes were like daggers to his heart.

"The best kiss I've ever received," he said, caressing her cheek.

"Angeline?" Mrs. Haywood called from the other side of the corridor.

She sighed. "I have to go. Sorry." She held the door open. "Will you come later?"

"When?" He stepped closer to her until she leant against the wall and he stood a mere inch from her.

She was all breathy and deliciously flushed. "Midnight. Come here and I'll open the door for you."

He dipped his head to meet her gaze. "I'll be here."

She took in a deep breath, parting her lovely lips.

He kissed her hand and left the house, wondering if he was doing the right thing.

Royston paced in the parlour at Haversham House as he waited for the earl to return home from the Haywood recital.

The earl's butler had shown him to him in, and Royston looked forward to emptying his pockets and putting the whole, awful story behind him. Although the women's list was still missing.

What tormented him the most wasn't having stolen documents from Mrs. Haywood but having promised Angeline to return to her. He wanted to. Hell, he did. He wanted to tell her the truth. But he didn't want to ruin their friendship or worse, hurt her.

No, it wasn't friendship. He wouldn't feel as if he were about to burst with desire if a friend kissed him.

"Wharton." Havisham entered the parlour and shut the door behind him. "Is it done?"

Royston emptied his pockets on the table. "There was a whole folder with your name."

The earl rushed to the table and examined the wrinkled pieces of paper and photographs.

He exhaled once he finished, closing his eyes briefly. "Thank you, Wharton. You saved my life."

How many times had Royston heard that?

"Finally. My freedom." Havisham smiled. "The nightmare is over."

"I couldn't find the list though."

Havisham frowned. "It has to be in the study. Perhaps your time was cut short."

"Yes, I couldn't search thoroughly." Still…

"I'll ask my private detective to dig deeper. I'll tell you what he discovers. She's a careful woman. She must have put it somewhere safe."

Royston couldn't say he was pleased. "You promised not to do anything to Mrs. Haywood."

"By Jove." The earl put a hand on his chest. "I always keep my word. She doesn't suspect anything, and I plan to keep my relationship friendly with her. Nothing will happen to her. No need to worry."

"The seat?"

"I'll start my request with the House of Lords immediately."

Good news, finally. Royston stretched out his arm. "Thank you, Havisham."

The earl shook his hand. "My pleasure. You have no idea of the service you did for me. My family and my happiness are safe, thanks to you." His voice shook.

"You're welcome." Royston just hoped Angeline would understand.

He left Havisham's house with a riot of feelings in his chest. He wanted to see Angeline and tell her the truth. Yes, he'd go to her to talk about her mother. No kisses until he laid out the truth.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and braved the chilly wind. Walking helped him think. Angeline had to understand. Her mother blackmailed people and abused fallen women, and he needed the seat in the House of Lords, or London would keep producing women like his mother. He couldn't allow that.

But despite firmly believing those reasons, he couldn't help the sensation of a cold blade in his chest whenever he thought of Angeline. She might tell him to go to hell after he confessed. He would lose her before he had the chance to be with her.

But nothing else could have been done. Talking to her before taking the documents would have been a mistake. If she was ignorant of her mother's activity, she wouldn't have believed him. She would have certainly talked to her mother, who would have removed the documents and stashed them somewhere else.

And he would have lost Angeline.

It seemed that every possible outcome led to the same depressing result.

The damage was already done. He ought to take responsibility for his actions and choices and face the consequences. From Westminster, Big Ben chimed midnight. Each gong made him shudder. It sounded as if Big Ben urged him on.

The back gate to Angeline's garden was open. He slipped inside and waited in a dark corner next to the rear entrance, half-wishing she didn't come out.

The door inched inwards, and she came into view in all her dark beauty. Her long hair was twisted in a long braid that reached her waist, and her blue dressing gown made her look like a fairy princess. The moonlight turned her skin into a glowing beacon.

He hitched a breath. For a moment, he forgot about Mrs. Haywood, Havisham, and the whole sodding world. She was so beautiful he could spend the whole night watching her.

"Royston?" she whispered.

He couldn't refuse her call. Removing his hat, he came out of the shadows. "I'm here."

She let out a muffled gasp and laughed. "You came."

"Of course I did. Angeline, before anything else, I need to talk to you."

She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him. "Of course. What is it? You sound so serious."

Since she wore only her dressing gown, he appreciated all the softness and warmth of her body. Her breasts pressed against his chest.

He held her by the waist. "I have something to tell you, something that won't make you happy."

Her lips were deliciously close. "I know. I'm a terrible kisser. But with a bit of practice, I'll improve."

"No, it's not about that." He caressed her hair. "Your kisses are perfect. It's something else."

"Come." She took his hand and pulled him into the hallway. "My mother is asleep, and Bassett left hours ago. But I can't stay long. Mama is a light sleeper."

He didn't walk in further but remained close to the door. He guessed the conversation would be quite short. "I have done something you're going to hate."

She rose on her tiptoes to give him a quick peck on the lips. "I'm sure you're exaggerating." She scattered kisses on his face. Stopping her physically hurt him.

"Listen." He swallowed hard as his mouth grew suddenly dry. "While I was in the study, I did something."

"What? If you broke that awful vase Mama keeps on the windowsill, I forgive you."

He ought to be quick. "Lord Havisham asked me to search the study for some documents."

She drew in a breath and unwrapped her arms from his neck. "What?"

"Let me finish." He forced his voice down. "Your mother has been blackmailing Lord Havisham for months. While she was his mistress, she collected compromising material to use to blackmail him. Lord Havisham asked me to retrieve those documents to save his marriage and family."

She clamped a hand over her mouth. "No."

"I'm sorry. At first, I didn't believe him, but when I saw those photographs, bills, and letters, I knew he told the truth, and I… I took those documents for him."

"No, no, no. This is a disaster." She wrung her hands, pacing.

Her eyes showed too much white, but she didn't have the outraged reaction he'd foreseen. She didn't deny the fact her mother was a blackmailer.

"Did you know about this?"

She stopped pacing and sank her teeth into her bottom lip. "That's irrelevant."

"I beg to differ. Did you know?"

Silence.

"You did." He couldn't completely remove the shock in his tone.

"She's my mother. What am I supposed to do? I tried to convince her to stop, but she didn't listen." She drew in a shaky breath. "What did Lord Havisham give you to search the study?"

He closed the distance between them with one stride. "He promised to help me get a seat in the House of Lords because I want to create better shelters and relief, proper jobs for women like my mother. Unless I'm in Parliament and fight for change, nothing will happen, and my title will remain nothing but a pretty award."

"So you started this journey towards a more equal and just society with a criminal act. You said you'd left your past behind. It doesn't seem like you have."

All the breath was punched out of him as if she'd hit him in the stomach. "It's not like that."

Or maybe it was. Once a thief, always a thief. Perhaps he was the wrong man to invoke change. He couldn't change anything if he couldn't change himself.

Also, Angeline knew what her mother did. That was another blow.

She wrapped her arms around herself. "Were the kisses and the kindness to me part of your plan to get close to me? Did you laugh at my expense because I was such a na?ve woman?"

"No." He put all his care for her into his voice. "I swear what happened between us is real, is visceral, is pure. I didn't lie or use you. You have to believe that."

A moment of charged silence thickened between them like an invisible barrier.

"Leave." She lowered her gaze.

"I really like you, Angeline. You're perfect. I didn't lie about the way I feel. I couldn't."

"Please, leave."

He put his hat back on and opened the door. "I didn't wish to cause you harm, and I didn't mean to lie to you. Lord Havisham is an adulterer, but your mother is blackmailing him, and you're her accomplice."

Her black eyes seemed to turn shiny with unshed tears while her cheeks paled. A shiver went through her. "I've never blackmailed anyone. But she's my mother. She isn't as evil as it seems." Her voice sounded small.

"There's more. I learnt your mother?—"

"Please leave. I need to be alone."

Her tear-welled eyes were the last thing he saw before leaving.