Page 18 of The Devil and the Heiress
“Such as?”
“She doesn’t want to marry yet. She wants to pursue a writing career.” Or that is what the maid believed.
Jacob gave a low whistle as he shook his head. “That family doesn’t produce biddable females, do they? What will you do?”
“Show her that I can give her what she wants.”
“That easy, huh?” Jacob raised a skeptical dark brow.
“Women are simple, brother. There’s no secret to controlling them. Keep them well-bed and well-fed, and they tend to do as you ask.”
His brother threw back his head and laughed. “God, I hope she marries you.”
“You say that as if it will be a bad thing.” Christian frowned.
“On the contrary. It will prove to be highly entertaining.”
“She will.” Christian was a bit foggy on the details, but he knew that marriage to her would be amusing.
Not only would marrying the Crenshaw heiress allow him to restore his beloved Blythkirk, but the money from the marriage would be the final nail that shut his father’s coffin for good. The earl had willfully left Christian penniless, leaving all his liquid assets, along with the Bloomsbury house, to his mistress and his children by her, which included Jacob and his two younger sisters. This marriage would bring more money to the earldom than it had seen in centuries.
As if his brother could read his thoughts, he asked, “What happens if you go through all this trouble, marry her, and Crenshaw refuses to give her a settlement?”
“I doubt that will happen. He’ll want his daughter to live in luxury.”
“But if he does? You’ll be saddled with a wife and very little else.”
Christian shook his head, having already considered this. Speaking with her that night at the ball had cinched his plans. “She has funds in her own right. Stocks that her brother manages, and a house in Manhattan, inherited from an aunt. The proceeds from the sale alone will be enough for Blythkirk.” Admittedly, less than he wanted, but he would be satisfied. Violet herself would be a prize.
Jacob was still laughing as he pushed the door open to Christian’s study. Ellen Stapleton stood wide-eyed near the window, looking like she had half considered jumping out of it. She had been anxious and nervous from the start, making Christian wonder if he had chosen correctly at least half a dozen times. But she had been the only one he had found who spoke with a soft accent, possessed the manners necessary to pass as a fledgling lady’s maid, and waswilling to spy for him. A rare pang of conscience made itself known, but he pushed it down again. Wasn’t it Lyly who wrote, “The rules of fair play do not apply in love and war”?
“Do you have information for me, Stapleton?” he asked, when her eyes became even wider as she looked over his appearance.
“Y-Yes, milord.” She swallowed. “Miss Crenshaw pretended to be ill last night to avoid the theater outing with her parents.”
“Pretended? Are you certain?” If she were to fall ill...
“Yes, milord. I do not know what happened, but she doesn’t seem very pleased with her parents. She pleaded a headache but has spent her time pacing around her room.”
“No one knows what happened?” he asked, finding it difficult to believe that there wasn’t some gossip belowstairs about the cause of her distress.
The girl shrugged. “Not really, no. There is some talk that a marriage has been decided for her.”
He let out a breath. Everything seemed to be going forward as he had assumed it would. Her parents must have approached her with Ware as a potential bridegroom, and she had balked. Good. Perhaps she was plotting now and ready to make a decision. Run away or marry someone else. Either way she decided, he would be ready. “And did something else happen?”
Stapleton nodded, her cap sliding to an awkward angle on her head. “Yes, milord. This afternoon she went out to visit Lady Helena March after her parents had left for an engagement. She had pleaded another headache, but she left soon after they did. Her visit was short, and she was back home within the hour, but I thought it interesting that she took with her a Gladstone bag. Said she was taking a few things to donate to Lady Helena’s charity. While she was gone, I checked her room, and a few items of clothing were missing, namely a traveling dress.”
“What else was missing?”
“Some personal effects from her dressing table, milord.” She blushed and added in a very soft voice, “Undergarments.”
Miss Crenshaw planned to run away. He tried not to smile openly, but it was difficult. To be certain, he asked, “Did she return home with the empty case?”
“No, milord, she did not have it when she returned.”
Perhaps she had left the bag with Helena, or perhaps she had left it somewhere else entirely. He had to figure out when she was leaving. Turning to his brother, he said, “Have Dunn and Sanford watch the Crenshaw residence. I need to know the moment she leaves.” The men had been driving by to keep an eye on the place, but he needed to know the very moment Violet left again, or he would risk missing her.
Jacob nodded and left to see to the task. To the girl, Christian said, “You have done well, Stapleton. When she leaves again, come here immediately and bring any of your personal possessions. You likely won’t be going back.”
