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.

Chapter 2

Henry Theodore Branson stood at the edge of Colmerstone’s ballroom. An evening in a too warm, too crowded ballroom saturated with the cloying cologne of two hundred bodies was not how he preferred to spend his time, but Colmerstone had requested his presence. More importantly, he needed the blunt, his cousin paid well, and the assignment was simple.

A drop of sweat trickled down his back and he shifted his shoulders. The open French doors lining the side of the ballroom did nothing to dissipate the heat. “Quite the crush you have here tonight.”

Colmerstone stood beside him, a smirk on his face as he perused the crowd. “I’m glad, for it means my efforts are bearing fruit.” He pulled on his waistcoat. “Keep an eye on things and make sure nothing untoward happens, especially when it comes to my naive sister.”

Henry gestured toward the dancers in the middle of the ballroom. “I’ve been watching her. It would seem she’s been asked to dance every set.” His attention shifted in the direction of Lady Olivia as it had involuntarily throughout the evening, his gaze meeting hers once again. It wasn’t the first time he’d sensed her looking at him tonight. “I’m surprised Felicity hasn’t spoken to Lady Olivia so far this evening. They’ve always been inseparable.”

“They had a falling out though I don’t know the reason behind it. Felicity won’t speak on the matter. They’re not giving each other the cut direct, but it’s damned close.” Colmerstone shrugged. “I suspect they’ll eventually mend their friendship.”

“Perhaps,” Henry said, his attention drawn toward Olivia once again. Something about her seemed different tonight. There was a tension in how she held herself and she was paying an unusual amount of attention to him. He always noticed her, whereas it seemed other than giving him a brief greeting when their paths crossed — and she’d spent a lot of time with Felicity so they had crossed often — she’d paid him no mind.

She leaned over to say something to her sister. The movement drew attention to her figure. The light blue gown she wore matched the color of her eyes, making them appear more vivid. The cut of the gown accentuated her curves. Her beauty wasn’t conventional. Her jaw was square, her forehead low and broad. Her auburn hair was pulled up with a few tendrils left loose which framed her face and helped to soften her features. Despite criticism over her looks which some in the ton considered unfortunate in a woman — and Henry had personally overheard the whispers from gossipmongers while Lady Olivia had been within earshot — she always stood with her head held high and her shoulders pushed back.

Annoyed at himself for not being able to control his attraction for someone he didn’t like — and who’d made it clear didn’t like him — Branson forced himself to return his attention to observing the other guests. After all, that was what he was hired to do.

“Hmph. The rumor must be true,” Colmerstone said.

“What rumor?” Henry had no idea what his cousin was talking about. Rumors always abounded within the ton, but Henry hadn’t heard anything particularly interesting or useful in recent days.

“That Wellford is keen to encourage a match between Lady Olivia and Varmick. I didn’t believe his ambition was such that he would match his daughter to a reprobate like him.” Colmerstone shook his head. “I certainly have my own ambitions and would welcome an advantageous match through marrying Felicity with someone who would prove a useful connection for my business, but I won’t sacrifice her happiness to achieve it.”

“They are an ill-matched couple.” From what he knew of the marquess, Lady Olivia would be miserable married to the man. While Varmick presented the facade of being a gentleman, he was anything but. The man was arrogant, crude, and dissolute like his father. Likely, the marquess would be on his best behavior to gain her favor. Not because he had feelings for the lady but rather the dowry she would bring into the marriage.

“I’m hard pressed to think of any woman who would be a match,” Colmerstone said.

Varmick led Lady Olivia away from her father and sisters. Not to the area set aside for dancing, but toward the edge of the room. The man preened as he walked, a smirk on his face as he turned to greet friends. Henry moved his jaw to ease the pain from clenching so hard. He shifted his gaze and noted that in contrast, Olivia appeared to have a loose grip on his lordship’s arm and held her body at an angle to keep a distance. “He seems quite pleased with the arrangement, though I can’t say the same for her ladyship.”

“I’m not privy to what Wellford may have promised aside from the dowry. But judging by what the late Lord Salderson had boasted he’d gained for her sister, it’s bound to be generous.” Colmerstone’s eyes gleamed, as if he wished he could be the recipient of such a bounty. “The gamble certainly paid off for Wellford. He’s said to be as rich as Croesus now.”

“From what I’ve heard, the association seems to have come to an end. The current Lord Salderson isn’t fond of Wellford,” Henry said.

“Indeed, things have come apart since the third earl’s passing. While Wellford benefited from the arrangement, the late earl took some heavy financial losses. The current Lord Salderson is having to deal with the aftermath.” Colmerstone rocked on his heels. “His dislike extends to Anne, Lady Salderson though I don’t know the reason for it.”

“Have you considered trying to gain Lady Olivia’s favor? Perhaps if she encourages your attentions, Wellford would consider you as a suitor.” Bile rose in his throat at his own words and he’d take them back if he could. Although he shouldn’t have feelings about it one way or another, the thought of his cousin married to Lady Olivia was disagreeable.

Colmerstone laughed. “While I’ve some influence and have built back the coffers of the barony, neither is great enough for Wellford. And even with the title, I’m from a poor distant branch of the family and not considered worthy.”

A title — even for a seemingly unworthy member of the family — still gained Colmerstone entry into Society and his increasing influence meant Society had to accept him. No one dared outright give Henry the cut direct because of his cousin but he was well aware that they looked down on him. However, his work with the Home Office and his reputation as a detective meant that the very people who viewed him as inferior sought his help when they were in need.

“Branson, as much as I’d prefer to remain in your company, I must go speak to other guests.” He took a few steps, then turned to Henry. “Report to me if anything unusual happens.”

Scandals at Society events such as this one were always a possibility but Henry was not the only one present to watch over things and felt his presence wasn’t truly necessary. He studied Felicity. She’d never done anything to cause concern in the past. Yes, she was innocent and trusting but the rules of the ton had been drilled into her and she’d been made aware that one misstep would mean ruination. Still, Colmerstone was concerned her dowry was gaining her the attention of disreputable men who would have no problem getting caught in flagrant delicto with her to force a marriage. Henry felt his cousin didn’t give Felicity enough credit. She may be naive but she wasn’t daft.

Henry dabbed at his forehead with a piece of linen, resisting the urge to tug on his cravat and strode toward the French doors. He needed some relief from the stifling air and prayed for a slight breeze to ease his discomfort. A spot by the doors would still provide him with a vantage point to watch Felicity and the crowd.

He took position and noticed Lady Olivia and Varmick walking towards him. His gaze locked with hers as they drew near.

“Mr. Branson, it’s a pleasure to see you this evening.” She drew to a stop, her cheeks tingeing with color as she continued to meet his gaze.

Varmick glowered at Henry, making his annoyance clear, and Henry thought the man wouldn’t address him. “Mr. Branson.”

“Lord Varmick.”

Surprised that Olivia had initiated conversation with him instead of merely giving a brief nod and walking past, Henry focused his attention on her. His curiosity stirred by her unusual behavior. Stubbornness on his part also made him reluctant to leave the pair. Lady Olivia still held Varmick’s arm and he hated to admit, he was bothered that she remained in his lordship’s company — especially when she appeared uncomfortable. “Lady Olivia. How do you do this evening?”