Chapter 15
JACK
“Isuppose I’ll be seeing you at dinner?” Gracie smiles sweetly when I finally release her from my lap. The way she bites her lip before she leaves has me thinking that she’s looking forward to it.
Resting back in my chair, I nod at her as she leaves. I take a deep breath when she’s gone as I try to figure out what's happening to me. The feelings I’m developing are borderline obsession. It’s too much, too fast, and I don’t know how to get a handle on it.
I was so angry when I found her on top of that ladder; she doesn’t seem to sense danger, and her determination to discover what was beyond the wall made her forget that it’s not just her she has to think about now.
Knowing what I know of the girl, I’m certain she’ll make more attempts to get her answers.
Pulling open the top drawer of my desk, I reach for the brass ornate key that I assume opens the wooden door that would unveil all her curiosities.
Mother always kept it; it was among all of her most treasured possessions.
I know from the stories I’ve been told that the space on the other side of the wall was theirs.
Somewhere, they could be their true selves.
Carefully, I place the key back, closing the drawer and deciding it shouldn’t be disturbed.
I know how important those memories were to her.
My door opens without any warning, and when Cecelia marches through, she looks ready to commit murder.
“Is this a joke?” She slams her wedding invitation on the desk in front of me.
“Ahhh, glad to see they’ve started to arrive.” Lifting it up, I examine it, impressed by the design the wedding planner I hired has come up with. “The quality of this paper is perfect, don’t you think?” I grin at her and watch her mouth curl when I offer it back to her between my fingers.
“I am the Dowager Duchess. How did I know nothing about this? You should have confirmed the date with me before making anything official.”
“Why?” I laugh at her.
“This wedding is in less than three weeks. We know nothing about the girl. She has no title, no lineage; she’s just–”
“She’s perfect.” I cut her off before she says something she might regret.
“I told you that I have been dating Gracie for some time; your concerns aren’t necessary.”
“Some time?” she scoffs. “Some time? And at what point during that time did you decide she’s fit to be a duchess?”
“Relatively quickly. Unlike my father, I’m choosing to marry for love.” I stare the old crow right in the eyes as I deliver the first of many insults I have for her.
“You are going to be the ruin of this family, and something's telling me you're doing it all out of spite. This is all just a big game to you. A revenge plot because you weren’t loved by your father the way you wanted to be.” Her voice rises, and the hatred in her eyes becomes darker.
“At least we share one thing in common, Cecelia.” I stand up and calmly make my way to the door, holding it open and signalling that it’s time for her to leave.
She starts making her way out, and just as she turns to have the last word, I talk over her voice.
“Did it ever occur to you that father was the one playing the game? That leaving everything to me was his own revenge plot for the years he had to spend pretending?”
She huffs as she struts on by, making her way down the corridor and back towards her quarters.
“How did you spend your afternoon?” I ask Gracie, nodding to the maid once dinner has been served. I’ve started excusing her from standing and waiting for instruction while we eat so we can be alone together.
“I called Sophia; sounds like the girls are really enjoying the apartment.” She smiles fondly. “Polly’s still pissed off with me, but I’m sure she’ll soon come around.” Her smile fades as she stabs her fork into her broccoli and looks unimpressed by it.
“It’s rich in iron; good for you and the baby,” I explain.
“You mean the baby that hasn’t even been conceived yet?” Her eyes roll, again…but her smile makes up for it.
“You don’t know that; you could be sitting there, knocked up right now.” I can’t hide the satisfied grin that thought gives me.
“You're very optimistic.” She sips her water and places it down gently. Something about her is different tonight; she seems extra playful, almost accommodating, and I must remember to keep my guard up.
“I’d like to know more about how you ended up in jail.” I bring it up, slicing into my perfectly cooked steak.
“Maybe that's a question you should have asked before sowing your seed, My Lord.” She hits me with more sarcasm, hoping to distract me from my question.
“Perhaps.” I shrug. “Enlighten me.”
Her eyes drop to the table, and she quickly loses all her confidence. Seeing the smile fade from her face has me wishing I hadn’t asked, but it’s something I have to know.
“My mum died when I was ten; I was put into a foster home, and it wasn’t a very nice one,” she starts to explain, scraping her food around her plate instead of eating it.
“And what about your father?”
“I never knew him; my mother…She used to work the streets. I don’t think she was even sure who he was.” Her smile is supposed to be brave, but it’s not convincing.
“I’m sorry.”
“What for? For thinking you had it tough growing up?” She puts her hard exterior back in place and tries to mock me.
“So how did you end up becoming a criminal?” I don’t ease off like I should. I want answers.
“I had to do whatever I could to survive. My foster parents never gave us anything; they pocketed the money the government gave them for having us and made us survive on the bare minimum. We were always hungry; none of us had decent clothes. I was a little more streetwise than the others were, so I managed to get us by.”
“You were ten.” I shake my head and frown.
“I was the daughter of a hooker; I’d hung out in some pretty shady places. Mother taught me how to take care of myself.” There's a hint of fondness in her smile.
“So as soon as I turned sixteen, I left the foster home. I didn’t like the way Ricky had started to look at me; he’d come into my room while I was changing, a few times too many for it to be accidental.”
“Where did you go?”
“I had nowhere to go.” She laughs again. “I slept rough for a while, then I met Jonah.” She takes another one of those deep, nervous breaths.
“Who?”
“He was older than me, and smart. He had big plans for the future, and he excited me.” I can tell by the bitterness in her laugh that she has regrets.
“Jonah gave me somewhere dry to sleep. He fed me, and he never expected anything for it. I was never going to be like my mother.” She looks up and makes that point very clear.
“So this Jonah took care of you?” I ask, wondering how it all came to this.
“Jonah was a grifter, and he was good at it, the best in fact. He taught me how to do a hell of a lot more than just pick pocket. I guess, over time, we got closer, and it just made sense.”
“I see.” I nod, pushing my plate to one side and doing everything I can to get the image of her and this other guy from my head.
“He was a good person to begin with. He had his head on straight and his heart in the right place, but as jobs got bigger, and Jonah got more successful, he started to change, and I started to learn more about who he really was.”
She takes another sip of her water and clears her throat. “I found out he was running a brothel, one for… vulnerable girls,” she whispers under her breath. “I swear I had no idea, until I met Polly.”
“Polly, the girl from the house?” I check I’m keeping up.
“She’s his sister; she’d been in his care since their parents died, and it turns out he was exploiting her.”
“That's disgusting!” I can’t believe what I’m hearing. What kind of asshole could do that?
“I was never supposed to find out; he kept that part of his life very separate from mine, and he did it well. I didn’t exactly roll in the same circles as the kind of men that used those girls.” Now she really does look bitter.
“What are you saying?” I can sense there's a little more to this story than what she’s telling.
“Jonah supplied girls to a gentlemen’s club your father owned in Kent. And those girls he supplied weren’t of age.”
“You're lying,” I snap back immediately. I know my father could be an asshole, but her accusation isn’t only wrong, it’s insulting. “My father wasn’t the best of men, but he wasn’t that. And he had no gentlemen's club in Kent. The only place he’s ever owned is the one he bought from Alex.”
“What reason would I have to lie, Jack?” She speaks so softly and sympathetically.
“He wouldn’t have; he couldn’t have. I would have known.”
“Jonah ran up a debt with your father. He was taking advances on the girls, promising to deliver more…Your father had a demand for girls who were intact, and Jonah tried more than once to try and deceive him.” She closes her eyes in disgust. “All it took was for a few of the girls to run away, and your dad got pissed off.”
I refuse to believe what I’m hearing. There is no way my father would be that stupid.
“Jonah needed to pay back what he owed. Apparently, Ravenshaw had a guy working for him. A man who, Ravenshaw threatened, would not just have killed Jonah, but every girl that was ever associated with him. I couldn’t let that happen.
Even though I was done with Jonah, I’d met Polly; she’d risked her own life to come to me and tell me what kind of a man her brother was.
I had to protect her, and any other girl Jonah had put in danger. ”