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“I think I mentioned in my note that I wished to talk to you on another matter,” Averil said in her serious voice, clearly not sharing in Rufus’s erotic fantasies.
He pulled himself together.
“You did. What was this other matter?”
She took her time, finding the right words, and by the time she spoke he was intrigued to hear what she had to say. “There is something not right at the Home. The women are frightened. Violet is frightened. And I’m certain Jackson is at the heart of it. I found Violet listening outside the common room door this morning and, when Jackson came out, she ran away. I’ve tried to ask her what’s wrong but she won’t tell me.”
“I warned you about Jackson,” he said quietly.
“I know you did”—with a quick smile up at him—“but Gareth trusts him. He seems to be reliant on him and because of that he won’t hear a word against him. Did you know another woman has gone missing overnight? And three more have walked out of their own accord. I’m worried and I don’t know where to turn.”
There were things he could say, offers he could make, and promises, too, but he didn’t know if he should. He’d already inveigled himself into her life to a point where she was smiling at him as if he were her tame tomcat. Rufus was no one’s pet.
“What about Doctor Simmons?” he said gruffly. “Can’t you turn to him?”
Averil gave an involuntary laugh and shook her head. “Gareth has too many problems of his own at the moment.” And then once again she looked up at him and he felt that tug on his heart. “Rufus, I need your help.”
“Of course you do.” They’d reached a bench and he waited until she sat down before he joined her. The air was cooler today and there were not so many people about, but there were still quite a few who stared at them curiously. Censoriously.
Two women turned their heads and then began to whisper together. He could imagine the conversation: Is that the wicked earl? What is he doing with the Heiress? You don’t think . . . No!
“I’ll do what I can,” he said, narrowing his eyes after the women. “I know Jackson, and his cronies. Leave it to me.”
If she looked at him with that expression for any longer, Rufus thought, he was going to grab her and ravish her, right here. That would give the tabbies something to gossip about.
“Thank you.” Her relief was obvious. “I-I hoped you’d say that.”
A lock of her hair tumbled down her cheek. Rufus’s hand twitched; he clenched it, hard.
“We need to get back,” he said and rose abruptly to his feet. Startled, a little bemused, Averil stood up, too. In a moment he had her back in the coach and they’d set off at a cracking pace. He could tell by her glances that she thought she’d done something wrong, but he didn’t enlighten her. Better for her to think that, to grow a little more wary of him, than to trust him too much.
His thoughts were a little odd, for a man who was trying to get his hands on Averil’s fortune, but Rufus didn’t consider that. His wants and needs were a mass of confusion and contradictions at the moment.
One thing was clear, though. He had a task ahead of him—to see what Jackson was up to and to dive headfirst into the murkiness of the East End. It was work he did well. He’d find out what was going on for Averil’s sake and perhaps then she would marry him in gratitude.
“Where have you been?” Beth was waiting inside the door and she looked frantic. “Was that the earl’s carriage? Averil, you must not become involved with that man.”
Averil stiffened. Her smile faded. “Involved?” she said coldly. “I was discussing the problems at the Home with him, Beth. We went for a drive in his coach. What is wrong with that?”
Beth knew she was handling this entirely the wrong way but she couldn’t seem to help herself. Her usual calm had been shattered by the doubts planted in her mind by her conversation with James.
“James says—”
“James?” Averil caught her up, eyes narrowing. “When did you start calling Mr. Blainey James?”
“Mr. Blainey says that Rufus’s wife died suddenly and there was a scandal and . . . Well, I don’t know the full story yet, but Averil! The man cannot be trusted. Certainly not with the reputation of a young heiress.”
Averil’s eyes were full of anger, and although Beth had encountered her charge’s temper before, still she took a step back.
“You have no right to speak to me as if I am still a child, Beth. I am a grown woman, and one who knows her own mind. I am not a fool. I can look after myself, thank you. And if you and James discuss me behind my back again, I-I will be forced to send you away.”
And with that she marched off upstairs and slammed her door.
For a time the house was very quiet. Beth sat downstairs in the parlor, mopping at her eyes, telling herself that Averil did not mean it. When she was angry she often said things she did not mean, and retracted them later on. But she had never spoken quite like that before and it hurt.
Beth took a shaky breath. Perhaps she should leave anyway? Pack her bags and go off and that would show Averil. But after a pleasant few moments imagining that scenario, Beth decided she was just being silly. If she wanted to keep Averil safe from the wicked earl, then she had to stick it out and stay put.
Besides, where would she go?
