Catch a Falling Heiress: An American Heiress in London Read online

  Van Hausen paused in his pacing and pulled out his pocketwatch, and as if in confirmation of Jack’s conclusion, his hand shook badly as he opened it to check the time.

  “Sorry I’m late,” another voice entered the conversation before Denys could reply, and both men glanced back to find the Earl of Hayward behind them.

  “Pongo!” they greeted him in unison, and at the utterance of his hated childhood nickname, the earl muttered an oath.

  “My name is James, you bastards,” he corrected through clenched teeth. “Not Pongo. James.”

  This reminder did not impress his friends in the least. They both gave unrepentant shrugs and returned their attention to the man across the room.

  “Is he here?” James asked, rising on his toes to look over his friend’s shoulder at the dance floor and the onlookers beyond.

  “He is,” Jack confirmed. “And he’s as jumpy as a cat on hot bricks.” He shrugged his tense shoulders. “He’s not the only one. I feel rather that way myself.”

  “It’s almost over,” James reminded as he moved to stand on his other side. “But I’m surprised he’s here. I didn’t think he’d dare after getting the telegram from Nick.”

  That telegram was the culmination of the plan Stuart had first outlined a year ago, a plan that had gone pretty much as the duke had expected. Under Jack’s careful manipulation, Van Hausen had formed East Africa Mines, accepting the funds of Jack, Denys, James, and several other investors to do so. Also as expected, he’d speculated with those funds elsewhere to recoup his other losses, and was now mired in more debts than he could ever repay. Now, Nick’s telegram was demanding Van Hausen’s presence at a meeting of the investors in East Africa Mines three days hence in New York, and at that meeting, Van Hausen would be required to repay the investors or face indictment for fraud and embezzlement. It was that telegram that had spurred Van Hausen’s visit to Jack earlier that day.

  “I don’t think any of us expected his appearance tonight,” Denys said. “Most of the investors in East Africa Mines are here. Who’d have thought he’d have the courage to face us in light of Nick’s telegram?”

  Jack shook his head. “It’s not courage. He’s trying to brazen things out.”

  “But to what end?” Denys wondered. “Given all the stalling he’s done, and the rumors James and I have been circulating since we arrived in town, everyone here knows he’s drowning. He can’t repay us or anyone else he owes. He’s trapped.”

  Almost as if he’d heard those words, Van Hausen looked up, seeing them across the room. At Jack’s exaggerated bow of greeting, he responded with a defiant scowl.

  “Your friendship appears to be at an end,” Denys commented in some amusement.

  “So it would seem,” Jack agreed, and wished the lifting of that burden had brought relief. But instead, he felt only an increasing uneasiness, a feeling akin to the unnatural calm that often came before a thunderstorm.

  “The man must be thick as a brick to display such hostility toward us,” James said. “Especially you, Jack. He’d be better served trying to placate you, butter you up, or gain your sympathy. At the very least, he ought to be asking you to plead his case with the rest of us.”

  “He already tried all of those,” Jack replied. “He even begged.”

  “Did he?” James gave a low whistle. “When was this?”

  “This afternoon. He cornered me at the Yacht Club after the two of you had already left. He admitted he didn’t have the funds, he asked me for help, and swore on his life he’d pay me back if I’d stake him with everyone else. He reminded me of our friendship during the past year and what good times we’ve had.”

  Denys smiled. “And what was your reply?”

  Jack allowed himself a grim, answering smile. “I gave him the Duke of Margrave’s warmest regards.”

  The other two men laughed, but when Denys noticed he wasn’t laughing with them, his own amusement faded. “What’s wrong, Jack?”

  “I don’t know.” He shrugged his shoulders again, trying to loosen his tense muscles. “I know this moment had to come, and I thought I’d be glad, but I’m not.”

  “That’s understandable. You’ve had to maintain a friendship with the man for months. It can’t have been easy.” Denys gave him a thoughtful look. “Any regrets?”

  “About losing Van Hausen’s friendship?” He made a sound of derision. “Hardly.”

  “Then what is it?”

  Jack frowned, not quite knowing how to put into words the uneasiness he felt. “He knows now that I’ve been toying with him all these months,” he said slowly, thinking it out as he spoke. “He knows East Africa Mines was a trap we set for him at Stuart’s behest, and he knows he fell right into that trap. He knows he’s been played for a fool. In addition, he’s cornered and desperate. I’m rather afraid of what he might do.”

  “Don’t worry,” James said, grinning as he clapped him on the back. “We’ll protect you.”

  “It’s not myself I’m afraid for.”

  With those words, James’s grin faded, and he and Denys both stirred, confirming that his apprehension was not wholly unfounded. None of them had spoken of Molly Grigg, or any of the other women discussed in Pinkerton’s reports, not even among themselves, and neither of his friends knew he’d been to interview those women, but it was clear his friends suspected what he already knew—that Van Hausen had done far more to the duchess than ruin her reputation.

  “We can’t worry about that,” Denys said after a moment. “He was bound to be pushed over the brink at some point. And even the tiniest frustration could set him off.”

  “I know, but before, I was with him often enough to keep a pretty close watch on his activities. I can’t be absolutely certain, of course, but I don’t think he’s assaulted any other women since I’ve been here. But now—” Jack stopped and swallowed at the true fear that was eating at his guts.

  “We have Pinkerton men watching him every minute of every day,” James pointed out.

  “Yes, and I even warned him of that this afternoon. But desperate men do desperate things. I’m worried.”

  “Still, what else can you do?” Denys asked. “It’s not as if we can sleep outside his door.”

  “I know, I know.” Jack sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’ll just be glad when this is finally over.”

  The other two nodded in agreement, and Jack returned his gaze to the man across the room, and when he saw Van Hausen pause and again pull out his pocket watch and glance at the door, he tensed, suddenly alert. “He keeps looking at his watch. We’re at a ball. Why should he care so much what time it is?”

  “Perhaps he’s just rattled,” Denys suggested. “As you said, he’s cornered, he’s without friends or resources, and he knows it. With luck, before the week is out, he’ll be in jail. Checking his watch is probably just a mindless action borne of frayed nerves.”

  Jack did not reply, for his attention was fixed on the object of their conversation. Van Hausen had shoved his watch back into his waistcoat pocket and was circling the room. For a moment, Jack thought he was actually coming to speak with them, but he passed them by without a glance, making for the doors into the ballroom where he paused to greet a young woman who had just come in.

  “Or,” Jack murmured, watching him capture the girl’s hands in his, “he’s been waiting for someone.”

  The moment he looked at her, Jack could see why.

  Her face, with its symmetrical shape and delicately molded nose and chin, was enough for any man to deem her pretty. Like most American girls, she had fine teeth, straight and white and curved in a dazzling smile. But those features were not what made Jack’s breath catch in his throat.

  God, what eyes, he thought, fully aware that he was staring, unable to look away. What lovely, lovely eyes.

  Deep-set and fringed by thick brown lashes, they seemed almost too large for her delicate face, but it was their color that made them extraordinary. Even from a dozen feet away, he co
uld discern it—a deep, vivid blue, the vibrant hue of cornflowers at twilight.

  Her blond hair, piled high atop her head, accentuated her long, graceful neck and slim, straight shoulders. Untouched by the hot tongs so many girls employed, it gleamed beneath the crystal chandeliers, and he wondered suddenly what it would look like loose and falling around her shoulders.

  “I think you’re right, Jack,” Denys said beside him. “He’s been waiting for her.”

  Jack didn’t answer, for his attention was riveted on the girl. A wide expanse of her creamy skin was visible above the neckline of her ball gown, a neckline low enough to raise eyebrows in sedate, stuffy Newport. His gaze slid down, and he noted a slender waist and shapely hips sheathed in blush pink silk, and he could well imagine that beneath those skirts was a pair of absolutely ripping legs.

  But who was she? He lifted his gaze again to her face, a move that was of no help at all in identifying her. Although he’d spent almost a year ingratiating his way into the Knickerbocker set, he’d never seen this woman before. If he had, he’d remember.

  “By Jove,” James murmured, “what a pretty girl.”

  It was clear many men shared that opinion, for a quick glance around told Jack her arrival had not gone unnoticed by the other men in the ballroom. More important, Van Hausen was among her admirers, for he still had her hands firmly clasped in his.

  Jack turned to his companions. “Who the devil is she?”

  Both his friends shook their heads, but it was James who spoke. “You’re the one who’s been living here. Don’t you know?”

  He shot his friend an impatient glance. “Really, Pongo, if I knew that, I wouldn’t have asked you.”

  “No need to be so testy.” James returned his attention to the doorway. “Did you notice her eyes?”

  “I think any man would notice her eyes,” Denys put in with fervent appreciation, his gaze also straying back to the subject of the conversation.

  “Will the two of you stop gaping at her long enough to consider the vital point?” Jack muttered, his concern growing. “We do not know this woman, but it’s clear Van Hausen does.”

  He took another glance over her, and this time, he saw more than her stunning face and luscious shape. He saw affection in the way she smiled at Van Hausen, and the halfheartedness of her attempts to pull her hands away. He saw an expensive ball gown as well as strands of magnificent pink diamonds that looped her slender neck and glinted amid the delicate sprays of heliotrope in her hair. Whoever she was, it was clear she had money, and that was something Van Hausen desperately needed right now.

  Desperate men, he reminded himself, do desperate things.

  Realization came in a flash, and he knew not only that Van Hausen intended to evade the trap they’d set but also just how he intended to do it. Jack swore, a curse loud enough for his friends to hear.

  “Jack?” Denys gave him a searching glance. “Have you recognized her? Do you know who she is?”

  “No,” he answered, still watching the girl. “But I damn well intend to find out.”

  Chapter 2

  Having been away from home a full year, Linnet Holland expected to find that many things had changed during her absence. She did not, however, expect Frederick Van Hausen to be one of the transformations.

  In appearance, he seemed the same Frederick she’d always known—blond hair, brown eyes, boyishly handsome face—but his manner was so different from that of the man she remembered that she almost felt as if she were talking to a different person.

  “Linnet. Dearest, dearest Linnet,” he said for perhaps the fourth time. “It’s so wonderful to see you.”

  “And you.” As agreeable as it was to be so warmly greeted, it also felt a bit awkward, for she was unaccustomed to such effusiveness from Frederick. They had attended some of the same picnics, parties, and balls over the years, but he was a decade older than she, and though she’d been wildly infatuated with him as a young girl, he’d never fueled her adolescent hopes. Indulgent fondness was as close as he’d ever come, and Linnet had long ago given up any romantic notions about him. Never would she have predicted that upon her return from Europe, he would gaze hungrily into her eyes and hold her hands in his.

  “Mrs. Dewey assured me you would attend her ball tonight,” he was saying, as she tried to adjust to this new, less restrained Frederick. “But since you’ve just arrived home, I wasn’t sure you would come.” His gloved fingers tightened around hers. “I’m so glad you did.”

  “Our ship from Liverpool docked yesterday, and we journeyed up from New York on the morning train. We haven’t had a moment to catch our breath.” She glanced around, noting there were other friends waiting to greet her, and she tried without success to pull her hands from his. “Frederick, you must let go of my hands,” she said, laughing. “People are staring.”

  “Let them. I don’t mind.”

  Her astonishment must have shown on her face, for he laughed and capitulated. “Oh, have it your way, Linnet, but I’m so glad to see you, and I don’t care who knows it.”

  She frowned, still bewildered. “Frederick, have you been drinking?”

  That elicited another laugh from him. “No, though the sight of you does make me feel a bit tipsy. But—” He stopped and cocked his head. “Listen to that.”

  “Listen to what? You mean the music?”

  “Of course the music, silly girl. It’s a waltz.” He once again seized her hand. “Dance with me.”

  He started to pull her toward the dance floor, but stopped almost at once. “Oh, but you’ve probably promised this waltz to someone. One of the men clamoring behind me, I’m sure,” he added with a glance over his shoulder. “As beautiful a woman as you’ve become, your dance card is bound to be filled well in advance.”

  “On the contrary.” She lifted her hand to show him the blank card tied to her wrist. “Not a single name. I know it’s a shock,” she added with a deprecating laugh, “but pride impels me to remind you that we did just arrive. My dozens of suitors,” she added lightly, “haven’t had the chance to line up.”

  He didn’t laugh with her. Instead, his eyes were warm and earnest as they stared into hers. “That means I’m the first in line for once.” He gestured to the dance floor. “Shall we?”

  He led her out, and soon they were swirling across the floor to the lilting melody. “How was Europe?” he asked.

  “Wonderful, at the start. The Italian lakes were beautiful in the summertime. Winter was nice, too, since we were in Egypt for much of that. The pyramids are an amazing sight, to be sure. But a year is such a long time to be away, and by the time we did the London season, I was too homesick to appreciate it.”

  “Were you homesick, truly?”

  “Oh, yes. I missed the picnics in Central Park, and the clambakes here at Newport, and all our friends. And sleeping in my own bed and having a real bathroom with hot water. And I missed our muffins.”

  “Muffins?” He laughed. “Linnet, you amaze me.”

  She laughed, too. “They have these things in En-gland they call muffins, but they’re not like ours. I so missed our muffins with the blueberries inside. When I described them to the maître d’hôtel at the Savoy in London, he suggested I have the tea cakes as a substitute. They weren’t at all the same.”

  “I think some of your other friends were over for the London season. Did you see any of them?”

  “I did.” She made a face. “Too many of them, if you want the truth.”

  Frederick gave her a quizzical look. “You just said you’d been missing your friends. Weren’t you happy to see some of them in London if you were homesick?”

  “Of course. But they all behaved so differently there than they do here. They fawned all over the British gentlemen, acting as if those men are so superior to our gentlemen here, which just isn’t true.”

  His hand squeezed hers. “My patriotic Yankee girl.”

  “I am. Laugh at me if you want to.”

  “I’m
not laughing. I agree with you. How could I not?” he added, still smiling. “I am an American gentleman myself, and I can’t see that these British fellows are in any way superior to me. Take those three, for example. The ones with Mrs. Dewey.”

  He nodded toward a place near the doorway, and as they waltzed by, she spied the trio of men talking with their hostess. It was only the briefest glimpse, but she was sure she’d never seen them before. “British, are they?” she asked.

  “Oh, yes.” His long upper lip curled a bit with obvious contempt. “And titled, as if that means anything here.”

  Linnet’s mind went back to her second season out, and Lord Conrath, the first man with a title she’d ever met, the only man in her life who’d ever made her heart race and her breath catch. Conrath—so debonair, so charming, so very broke.

  She stumbled a little, and it took a moment to regain her footing. “Are these men staying in Newport?” she asked once they had resumed the dance.

  “Unfortunately. They are spending the season here at The Tides. Why the Deweys invited them is beyond my comprehension.”

  She groaned. “You mustn’t tell my mother about them. She got it into her head ages ago that I must marry a British lord. No one else will do.”

  It was Frederick’s turn to miss a step. “Sorry about that,” he said as he maneuvered them back into the rhythm of the waltz. “Your happiness ought to come first. Why is she so adamant?”

  “She feels the New Money girls are getting the jump on our set by marrying titled men, and she’s decided beating them at their own game is the way to stop it. She’s obsessed with the idea of making me a countess or duchess or some such.”

  “You mustn’t let her.” The fierceness of his voice surprised her, but she also found it quite gratifying.