Chapter Five
Violet smoothed down the long velvet sleeves of her gown.
She smiled at Lady Davenport as the woman exited the retiring room, which was filled with people and chatter.
The ball was in full swing, but good Lord, she was so tired.
Her father-in-law had asked her to be his hostess for his annual midwinter ball, so there was no going home early.
All of good society was here to drink from his famously well-stocked cellars and enjoy the frivolity of the elaborate decorations and food.
Lord Lavensham loved to throw a party. Violet pinched her cheeks to bring a little color to her pale face. Remember your mission tonight.
She had thought long and hard about what could be a good bargaining chip to make her husband stay away from her.
The truth was none of Stuart’s many vices were anything that society would care about.
Drinking and gambling were all fine and dandy for men to participate in.
Even him hurting her was—as her father-in-law had put so bluntly—nobody else’s business.
No, the key to controlling Stuart was his father.
What she needed to do was find out what Lord Lavensham’s sins were and then use them as leverage to have him agree to her having her own house away from her husband.
Thus far, she’d had no luck ferreting out any good dirt on the duke.
Oh, there were rumors whispered that he had a hand in his wife’s death.
Stuart’s mother had drowned in a lake some fifteen years ago, a horrible accident after falling from a rowboat.
But it was old news, and the rumors were hardly something that the duke even paid attention to anymore.
No, she needed to find out something that he was currently involved in.
Something that would be embarrassing or perhaps, dare she hope, illegal.
Tonight’s distractions gave her the perfect opportunity to search through his private study.
The door to the retiring room opened again, and Ginny hurried inside. Her maid crossed to her. “My lady,” she said low in Violet’s ear. “He is in the card room in the midst of a game of loo. He just called for a bottle of Cognac.”
Violet nodded. “And my husband?”
“Smoking on the veranda with a group of people.”
“Thank you, Ginny. I will make haste.”
She exited the room and, turning left, headed down the corridor.
At the stairs, she glanced down the sweeping marble steps to find the main hall buzzing with guests still arriving, despite the late hour.
Music spilled from the open doors to the main ballroom.
The card rooms were in the back of the house.
Even if the duke left his game, he would be waylaid a half dozen times before he could make it upstairs to his study.
And Stuart wouldn’t look for her until it was time for the supper waltz.
She had maybe an hour to search the duke’s study.
Turning away from the party below, she swiftly made her way down the corridor to the family wing.
The duke’s study was the last door leading to the back corner of the house.
Violet had never set foot in the room; it may be decorated entirely in leopard print for all she knew, or more likely, the walls were covered in animal heads from the duke’s many hunting trips to his estate in Kent.
Glancing to the left and right for servants, Violet turned the knob and entered her father-in-law’s domain.
She shut the door with the barest click of the latch and then crossed to the desk.
Moonlight poured in through one of the windows, illuminating the multitude of papers stacked all over the desk.
Goodness, she would have never guessed that the duke would work in such disorder.
Piles of correspondence and newspapers lay everywhere.
But in the center of the desk, on top of the blotter, lay a thick leather-bound ledger, and neatly on top were several sealed envelopes.
Her lips twitched; those must have been left by his secretary, Mr. Dodson.
Based on the chaos of papers on the desk, she imagined poor Mr. Dodson had his hands full trying to keep the duke’s affairs in order.
Hmmm. Perhaps Mr. Dodson’s office would be a good place to search as well.
That man must know all manner of secrets.
She would have Ginny see if she could find out anything from the dour little man.
Violet crossed to the fireplace and lit a candle with some of the tinder banked in the grate.
Bringing it back with her, she began to sift through the papers on the desk, but she soon realized that it was mostly estate business, reports from his land managers and such.
Frustrated, she picked up a newspaper sheet.
It looked like it had been torn away from the rest of the broadsheet.
The article at the top was about a bill that was supposedly hotly contested in the House of Lords.
Something about corn. Why would that be hotly contested?
She was wasting precious time. Nothing salacious would be kept on the desktop.
She slid open the top drawer to her left.
It was filled with writing supplies, the ink pots rattling as she pushed the drawer shut.
The drawer below it was locked. Damn it.
How does one pick a lock? Violet sighed.
She was a terrible sleuth. She turned to the credenza that sat along the wall behind the desk.
The first drawer she tried opened easily, but inside were stacks of more ledgers.
A quick look showed that they were labeled with dates from past years.
The ledgers, if studied, might show some interesting spending patterns, but that would take time and lots of reading.
She simply didn’t have a way to abscond with armfuls of financial records.
She had hoped to find something more along the lines of letters filled with details of all the duke’s misdeeds.
“I hadn’t expected to run into other spies in the duke’s study tonight,” a wry voice startled Violet.
She whirled around to find a man swathed in moonlight and shadows standing across the room. Who was he? “Spy? Don’t be ridiculous.” She forced a laugh. “I am simply taking a break from the party in a quiet room.” She squinted but could not make out the man’s features. “Are you a spy?”
“Not anymore. But my purpose tonight is to gather information. Don’t worry, I won’t tell your father-in-law you were poking around his study.” The man stepped forward, his hands casually stuffed into his pockets. “Why are you poking around?”
Drat, he knew exactly who she was. As he moved toward her, Violet held up the candle to see him better. His short, trimmed blond hair and the long, thin scar across his cheek were familiar, even if it had been a year since she had seen him. “Mr. Seaton?”
He gave her a mocking salute with one hand.
What was he doing here? “I’m not poking around. I told you I am simply taking a quiet moment to myself.”
He narrowed his eyes for a moment, but then he shrugged. “Sure. Do you mind if I poke around?”
“What? Of course I do. You shouldn’t be in here.”
“I daresay, neither should you.” His eyebrow arched.
She let out a small huff. He was right, and dammit, he was in her way. She had only a short amount of time to find something that she could use to bribe her father-in-law. Crossing her arms over her chest, she glared at Seaton. “All right, I am looking for something, if you must know.”
“What are you looking for?”
“None of your business,” she replied.
“Fair enough.” Crossing his arms, he mirrored her stance. “Perhaps we could help each other.”
“How?”
“I have been tasked with finding out what misdeeds the duke is up to of late. If you happened to know or hear anything and were willing to share it, I would generously compensate you.”
Violet sucked in a sharp breath. He was looking for exactly the information she needed. She narrowed her eyes. It was well known that Seaton was a criminal. She needed to exercise caution with him. “I have no need of your monetary offer. How would that be helping me?”
He gazed at her for a long moment. Violet straightened her spine. This might be the opportunity she needed—if she could convince him to share any information he gathered.
When he spoke again, his voice was low and mocking. “Well, now, if you are willing to share what you are searching for in here tonight, perhaps I can assist. As a show of good faith.”
She couldn’t tell him the truth, to be sure. He wouldn’t understand her desperation. It would just make her seem weak. Violet scrambled for something that she could ask for; her mind went to the locked drawer in front of her. “Could you pick the lock on this drawer?”
Seaton’s eyes widened in surprise, but a smile stretched across his face, and he nodded.
He crossed the rug and came around the desk.
She stepped back a few paces as he came close.
His presence was overwhelming. Like the first time she had met him at her friend Lucy’s house last year, her heart beat double its normal rhythm as he drew near.
It wasn’t fear, though, just an immediate feeling of knowing, as though her soul recognized him.
Violet shook her head at the ridiculous thought.
She pointed to the second drawer. “That one.”
Seaton crouched in front of it and then pulled a small leather roll out of an inside pocket. Unfurling it, he chose two thin metal tools before setting the pouch onto the desktop. Violet stared down at the variety of small picks.
“Light please,” Seaton said.
She lowered the taper so it illuminated the lock.
As she watched him, he inserted the two tools into the lock.
One with a flat hook at the bottom and one with a serrated tip at the top of the keyhole.
In less than ten seconds, he’d twisted the bottom pick, and there was a click as the mechanism turned. Then he slid the drawer open.
He stood and took a step back.
“That was impressive, Mr. Seaton. I suppose lock-picking must be a handy skill for a criminal.”
“Yes.”
Unnerved by his easy agreement to her accusation, she tore her gaze from his and looked down at the contents of the drawer.
Correspondence filled it. As unorganized as the top of the desk, it was a tangled pile of letters.
Violet sighed. “This will take me far too long to go through tonight. Blast it. Why did I think this would be easy?” she muttered.
“Just take it all.”
She looked back up at Seaton. “Then he will know someone has been in here.”
He shrugged. “So?”
“I was hoping to be stealthier. I don’t want to raise his suspicions.”
“Take it. I’ll jam the lock so he can’t get into the drawer. He probably doesn’t try to access it as often as you might think.”
Violet bit down on her bottom lip. Did she dare?
Yes, it might not produce anything, but it was her first real opportunity to get information.
Surely, he wouldn’t lock away these letters unless they contained some sensitive information.
“All right.” Violet pulled free the shawl she had artfully tied around her shoulders.
Laying it on the desktop, she scooped out letters by the handful.
Straightening them into neat piles, she emptied the drawer, then carefully tied them up into a small bundle. “Thank you for your help.”
Seaton nodded. He closed the drawer and bent to relock it.
He then pulled something from his pants pocket and placed it into the lock.
With the flathead tool, he jammed it into the bottom of the keyhole.
When he rose, his gaze snared hers. “Remember our agreement. If you hear anything or read anything”—his eyes flicked to the bundle she held—“of his misdeeds, tell me.”
“Did we make an agreement?” She smirked.
His jaw clenched and his expression darkened.
The scar that crossed his cheek pulled at the corner of his upper lip and added to his air of menace.
But his clear blue eyes, fringed with long, dark lashes, were in direct contrast to his dark expression and made him resemble a very dangerous fallen angel.
Violet couldn’t help but chuckle when that strange analogy popped into her head. She held up her hands. “Yes, yes, I will. But how do I reach you?”
“You can leave me a note at the Blue Angel.” Then he crossed to the window, stepped one long leg over the sill, and disappeared into the night.
Violet stood staring in shock at the window for several moments before racing over to lean out.
She looked down at the second-story drop but didn’t see him.
Then, to her right, she spotted his long, lanky shadow crossing the lawn.
How had he made it so easily to the ground?
Turning to scan the outside wall, she saw where the drainpipe came down the corner of the house.
She supposed it was within arm’s reach if one had very long arms. She shook her head. What a fascinating man.
She crossed back to the desk and grabbed the bundle of letters. Scanning the desktop to make sure nothing looked out of place, she chuckled again. How would one even know if something was out of place in this mess? She pushed the chair back into place.
Slipping out of the office, she returned to the ladies’ retiring room, where Ginny waited.
Her maid’s worried expression melted when she spotted Violet. She hurried over. “Everything good, my lady?”
“Yes.” Violet nodded. More than good. She had a bundle full of possibilities and had the most interesting encounter in the dark.
Violet couldn’t remember the last time she had been so amused.
She had almost felt like her old self. “Here, take this and hide it under the seat in my carriage. I was successful in my mission tonight. But now I must get back to the ballroom before Sommerset comes looking for me.”
Ginny nodded as she accepted the bundled shawl.
“How do I look?” Violet asked.
“A little flushed but beautiful.” Ginny reached to smooth a misplaced ringlet of hair. “There, perfect as usual.”
Violet could only muster a wan smile at that.
She straightened her posture and made her way back to the ballroom, knowing that she would have to play her part as hostess for the rest of the evening.
But the thrill of her encounter with the handsome Mr. Seaton sat in her chest. That and a tiny bit of hope.
Perhaps somewhere in those letters he had helped her procure was the key to freedom for her and her child.