Chapter 1

PICCADILLY, LONDON

JULY 1815

Lady Olivia took a breath in an attempt to loosen the tightness that had settled into her chest. Her plans had just met with a complication in the manly form of Mr. Henry Theodore Branson. The sharp-eyed investigator took notice of every detail. She always felt like she was being laid bare whenever he scrutinized her. He’d probably take one look at her and know she was up to something. But there was another reason for her vexation. He drew her attention despite the fact that he stood beside his more fashionably dressed cousin. His plain, navy jacket emphasized his broad shoulders and his ivory pantaloons hugged his legs, revealing the outline of muscles as he moved. Her cheeks heated as she continued her perusal of him while wishing he’d not bothered to show tonight. He turned and met her gaze, his brow raised in question. She tore her eyes away. Her heart thudded in her chest and her knees weakened. Odds were likely he’d sensed her staring. “Why did the blasted man have to be here tonight?”

Anne cast her a sidelong glance. “Who are you talking about?”

“Mr. Branson.” Olivia clenched her jaw. To make her escape without him noticing would be near impossible. “He’s going to make things difficult for me.”

Anne shook her head. “Don’t tell me you’re still going forward with your ill-conceived plans. What if you’re caught rifling about in Lord Colmerstone’s belongings?”

Not surprising that Anne would discourage her. But she would not allow her sister’s misgivings to dissuade her and would proceed as planned. “I’ll take the necessary precautions to avoid discovery.”

“I don’t like the chance you’re taking with your reputation,” her sister said. “Instead of seeing Mr. Branson as a problem, I think the prudent thing to do is to approach him and hire him to help you find it.”

“You realize what you’re suggesting makes no sense? You, who is always speaking of reason, think I should ask him of all people?”

Anne nodded. “He’d be able to explain his presence more easily if he’s discovered. You, however—”

“He’s not going to believe me nor want to investigate his cousin.”

“He may. I’ve heard he needs the blunt and I do believe he’d—”

Olivia held her palm out. “He’d … what? Pretend to investigate fairly?” She scoffed. “It’s better to keep the number of people who know of my missing brooch to a minimum. Besides, I’ve no need to hire him when I’m perfectly capable of searching myself.”

“Perfectly capable.” Anne tapped her fan against her gown. “Now, who isn’t making sense? Imagine the scandal if you’re caught. A piece of jewelry isn’t worth the risk.”

“How could you say that so easily?” Grandmama had given Olivia the brooch. She’d been Olivia’s confidant and the one who’d seen her through one of the darkest times of her life. The brooch had been a gift — a reminder to not repeat the mistakes of the past. Anne, who had never been close to their maternal grandmother, would never understand.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be dismissive.” Anne frowned and shifted from one foot to the other. “I don’t think his lordship took it. The far more likely explanation is you’ve misplaced it.”

“I’ve not misplaced it. I’ve searched the house and it’s nowhere to be found.”

“Let’s say it is indeed missing. You also don’t have proof that he took  it.” Anne shrugged. “But if you must investigate to satisfy your suspicions, you should hire someone and not undertake the risk yourself.”

Olivia returned her attention to where Mr. Branson and Lord Colmerstone stood. “People are known to do the unexpected. The possibility exists and he had the opportunity.” His lordship was from an distant obscure branch of the family who’d inherited the barony in dire straits and was rumored to have engaged in dubious business practices to refill the coffers. The lavish ball tonight indicated there may be some truth to those rumors.

“He wasn’t the only one at the dinner party that night. Have you looked into others who attended yet?”

“I’ve gone over the events of the dinner party innumerable times. Colmerstone’s the only one whose whereabouts for the entire evening cannot be accounted for,” Olivia said.

“Are you certain you haven’t missed anything? Accusing a lord is not a trivial matter.”

“I’m aware of that and I haven’t been going about blathering about it. I asked Papa for help and he can’t be bothered. He has no interest in ‘my blasted eyes,’ as he calls them.” She scowled at Anne. “I wish you hadn’t asked me to show it. Once you mentioned it, I had no choice. They were all looking at me expectantly and I couldn’t refuse without seeming rude.”

“I’m sorry it’s missing.” Anne gestured with her hand in dismissal. “However, you’re being reckless and I urge you to reconsider. Mr. Branson is known for his investigative skills and being Colmerstone’s kin, has access to his lordship.”

“It isn’t necessary to involve him.” Olivia straightened her back. “This ball presents the perfect opportunity.” Moreover, his presence at the ball was due to his cousin, whom he was close to and as result couldn’t be trusted—even if he was lauded as an investigator.

“It’s useless to argue with you.” Anne smoothed her skirts in sharp movements. “You’re as stubborn as Papa. No one can stop you once you’ve made a decision.”

“The same can be said about you,” Olivia muttered, snapping her fan open and fluttering it in agitation. There was no point in continuing the conversation when they would keep disagreeing without either one giving in.

She turned away, her gaze landing on her former friend, Felicity, dancing the quadrille with Lord Philip. Acquainted when Lord Colmerstone had inherited the barony, they’d become fast friends and it stung that they no longer spoke as a result of Lord Varmick, Lord Philip’s older brother. For reasons she couldn’t fathom—for Olivia had an inherent dislike of the marquess—Felicity had set her cap on him. She’d told Felicity as much, but that hadn’t mattered and she viewed Olivia a rival for his affections. But even if they had been on speaking terms, Olivia wouldn’t have been able to confide in her as far as the suspicions regarding Lord Colmerstone. Felicity would’ve certainly told him, the siblings shared too close a bond for her to keep anything secret from him.

Anne leaned close, interrupting her thoughts. “Look who is making their way toward us.”

Olivia’s stomach roiled as Cressida, their youngest sister, approached, accompanied by Papa and Lord Varmick. The heavens were conspiring against her tonight.

Olivia and Anne curtseyed when they drew near.

Lord Varmick bowed. “Lady Salderson. Lady Olivia. I hope you’re enjoying the evening thus far.”

“Indeed, I am. It’s a pleasure to see so many friends here tonight.” Anne beamed. Her sister had been in mourning for the past year with the passing of Lord Salderson. She’d mentioned to Olivia how difficult the social isolation had been for her. This was the first gathering her sister had been able to attend out of mourning, and her happiness, even while lecturing Olivia, was palpable.

Papa’s complexion became ruddy as he turned his attention toward Olivia, his gaze unblinking as if daring her to go against him. She readied herself for what he would say next.

“Lady Olivia’s pleased you were able to attend tonight, Varmick. She’s been anticipating your presence all day.”

“I too have been looking forward to this evening.” The artificial smile Lord Varmick directed her way made her skin crawl.

She glanced away, fearing her irritation would show. He hadn’t said he looked forward to seeing her in particular, but it didn’t matter, she hadn’t been awaiting him either. On the contrary, she’d no desire to be near him for he reminded her too much of the deceptive and charming seducer, Lord Minett. She’d been in love with him and believed in his promises, only for him to marry someone else after he’d seduced her.

Lord Varmick was unlikely to leave her in the lurch since he was courting her with Papa’s approval, unlike Lord Minett. He’d pursued her without her father’s knowledge, claiming he would ask Papa for her hand once they’d become better acquainted. Oh, what a fool she’d been!

Despite her feelings for Lord Varmick, Papa had set his ambitions on a match between them. He didn’t care that she found Lord Varmick to be unpleasant or whether or not the match would result in a happy marriage. The criteria for a suitor were those who would provide him advantages in business or politics. Lord Varmick, the future Duke of Trullver, would provide Papa with both.

Lord Varmick drew close, offering his elbow to her. “Would you do me the honor of a dance?”

“I must regretfully decline.” She made a show of rubbing her temple. ”I’m afraid I have a megrim and won’t be dancing tonight.” The excuse served another purpose. If she spent the entire night dancing, she would miss out on her chance to search Colmerstone’s collection room. Her refusal, of course, earned her a glare from her father. There would be no avoiding his ire once they returned home this evening.

Tension framed the edges of Lord Varmick’s lips. He was likely annoyed about having his request denied and — due to his title — rejections were an uncommon occurrence. “Perhaps you are well enough to join me for a turn about the room instead?”

“Of course she will accompany you.” Papa gave her a look that brooked no opposition. “Mayhaps a stroll will help you feel better.”

She didn’t wish to be around Varmick with his ingratiating manners, but it would be foolhardy of her to defy Papa and refuse the marquess a second time.

“Of course, my lord.” She placed her hand on his arm and looked at her sisters with a small nod. “I’ll join you later.” She hoped they understood the unspoken plea for help.

The sensation of a hard stare at her back had her turning her head to find Mr. Branson watching her being led away. Between Lord Varmick and Mr. Branson, she was starting to doubt whether she would be able to accomplish her goal tonight. But she wouldn’t give up just yet. The brooch was too important to her.