One Sinful Night (24 page)

Grayson nodded his head in accord with this and made his way to leave the office. “I'll assign Jones first thing in the morning. He's very good at this sort of work.”

Aidan called after him. “And find out what hospital his sister is in and make sure she's taken care of.”

“Now, please wait for me right here, Lizzie,” Vivienne instructed her maid as they stood outside the imposing limestone building that housed Harlow Shipping International.

Still in disgrace, she'd managed to successfully escape Aunt Gwen's watchful eyes for the afternoon by telling her that she and Lizzie were going to shop for some items for her trousseau. And she had actually visited a shop and bought a ribbon or two, although admittedly rather quickly. Then she made her way directly to Jackson Harlow's office. It would upset her aunt to no end to find out that Vivienne was visiting Mister Harlow to discuss her father's disappearance, so it was better if she simply didn't know about it.

“I simply need to speak with Mister Harlow about my father. It shouldn't take much time at all. I promise, I shall be back momentarily,” Vivienne continued to explain.

“All right, miss,” Lizzie stated reluctantly, her wide eyes filled with worry, but she was far too loyal to Vivienne to challenge her wishes. And at the moment, Vivienne was not above using that fact to her advantage.

She gave Lizzie a reassuring pat on the shoulder, made her way up the neatly swept front steps, and bravely entered the building. She wore a smart day gown of a dusty rose, with an adorable bonnet in matching rose silk. Walking down the corridor and up a flight of stairs, she reached an imposing frosted-glass door with Harlow Shipping International painted in bold black letters on the front. She took a deep breath for courage and opened the door with feigned confidence. A young man, neatly dressed in a brown suit, greeted her with a solicitous air.

“Welcome, Miss Montgomery. Mister Harlow has been expecting you and is waiting for you in his office. May I bring you some tea?” His efficacious manner did nothing to calm her nerves.

“No, thank you,” she murmured softly, clutching her reticule tighter in her hand.

The young man, obviously an assistant, escorted her politely into Jackson Harlow's office. Harlow Shipping obviously did a tremendous amount of business to be able to afford such a grand and elegantly furnished office. A thick cocoa-brown carpet covered the floor and heavy mahogany furniture and comfortable leather chairs were placed strategically around the room. Two tall windows that looked out over the street below were covered with gold velvet drapes. Various potted plants placed around the room added a touch of warmth, while dark green wallpaper and gilt-framed paintings of the Harlow fleet of ships adorned the walls. Her eyes immediately scanned the pictures for a glimpse of the
Sea Star.
She did not see it.

More daunted than she realized, Vivienne smiled nervously when Jackson Harlow stood in greeting when he saw her enter. He moved around to the front of his gleaming mahogany desk, and gracefully took Vivienne's small hand in his.

“I'm so pleased that you were able to meet me as planned, Miss Montgomery.” He bent over her gloved hand in a gallant gesture and kissed it. “You look lovely, as always.”

“Thank you, Mister Harlow.”

“Please sit down and make yourself comfortable.” He turned to the young man, who had escorted Vivienne. “You may excuse yourself, Francis.”

“Very good, sir.” The secretary headed out the door, closing it as he left.

Jackson moved to sit behind his desk once more and turned his eyes upon her in a steady gaze during the awkward silence that followed. He said softly, “I was beginning to think that you wouldn't come.”

A nervous little laugh escaped her, as she adjusted her rose bonnet. “I was beginning to think I would not be able to get away from my aunt and uncle to see you.”

“Obviously you were quite successful.” He looked at her pointedly. “First things first. Are you well, Miss Montgomery?”

“I'm fine, thank you.”

“May I presume to call you Vivienne?” He smiled at her in all his golden glory.

She could not resist his charm. The night of the Binghams' masked ball she had accepted Jackson's offer of courtship, then the poor man witnessed her in bed with Aidan. He was quite aware of her disgrace and inescapable marriage, and now, in a brazen maneuver, she had secretly arrived at his office unchaperoned. Allowing him to call her by her given name at this point seemed mild in comparison to her other transgressions. She merely nodded her head in helpless agreement to his request.

“Wonderful. Now you must call me Jackson.”

Again Vivienne nodded her head. “Jackson it is then.”

“Now, let's discuss your father, shall we, Vivienne?” He adopted a businesslike air and began to shuffle through the sheaves of papers on his neatly ordered desk. “I've been looking over the records from your father's voyages with us. Captain Montgomery had slowly taken over the trade routes to South Africa during the last five years, when he began piloting the
Sea Star.
He was an excellent captain, never lost a single shipment or crew member. He profited handsomely from our business with him.”

“He did?” Vivienne questioned incredulously. If her father had been making large sums of money on his voyages, he certainly never shared much of it with her or Aggie. Between his intermittent visits to Galway, he always sent money to them whenever he could. Never knowing how much they would be getting or when the next allotment would arrive, she and Aggie spent the money sparingly, saving as much as they were able. Aggie suspected that her father was involved in gambling and the amounts he sent decreased sharply in the last years since he was employed with Harlow Shipping, leaving Vivienne worried for her future. After her father's ship disappeared, she and Aggie survived solely on what little earnings Vivienne brought in from her sewing.

“Are you saying you did not know of this?” Jackson asked in disbelief.

“That's exactly what I'm saying. I barely had enough money to keep food on the table. If my father was making large profits, he did not share them with me.”

“That's most odd,” he mumbled, his eyes still on the papers in front of them. “But it fits with my theory.”

“What theory?” Vivienne's pulse quickened.

“This is difficult for me to admit to you, Vivienne. And I am only telling you this because of my feeling of responsibility for you, for it could cause quite a bit of trouble for me. And for my family.”

Intrigued by his words she whispered, “You must tell me.”

He paused for a moment. “I think there might have been some wrongdoing against your father on the part of my brothers, Davis and Miles.”

Vivienne blinked, unsure how to respond while her sharp mind raced with possibilities. What was he talking about? What had his brothers done to her father? Had they stolen from him? Had they hurt him somehow? Even murd—No, she could not even say that word. “What do you mean, Mister Harlow?”

“Jackson,” he corrected her smoothly.

“Jackson.”

“I'm not completely sure just yet. But, brothers or no, I intend to find out. And to do that I need you to tell me everything about the time you last saw your father, from before he sailed until the last letter you received. Did he make any reference to Harlow Shipping or to either of my brothers? Did he mention any investments he made, any provisions for your future? No detail may be too small or insignificant. You must tell me everything.”

Speechless, she stared at Jackson.

“I don't think it's a secret how I feel about you, Vivienne,” Jackson uttered softly. “I only wish to help you in any way I can. I feel doubly responsible for your father's disappearance for I fear it may have been caused by my brothers' selfishness. You can trust me.”

“I trust you, Mister—” she corrected herself, “Jackson.”

“I'm happy to hear that, because I need your help in order for me to solve this mystery. We need each other. And for your own safety, we must not mention who you are to my brother Miles. He would know immediately that we suspect him. Fortunately he is out of town this week, but he will be back shortly.”

“I see your point,” Vivienne agreed. If his brother and foul play were somehow involved in her father's disappearance, then the logic in staying out of sight of Miles Harlow made sense. “But I don't understand any of this. Why would either of your brothers want to hurt a man who was in their employ for years? What could my father have done to incur their wrath?”

“This is very difficult for me to admit, Vivienne, but my brothers are greedy men. I have a feeling your father had something that they wanted. Quite desperately. He was merely in their way.”

“What was it?” asked Vivienne, her hands clenched tightly in her lap.

“Diamond mines in Africa.”

“Diamond mines? What would my father be doing with diamond mines?” Vivienne was in shock. Nothing made sense. How could he possibly be dead over something like that?

“Well, it seems he may have acquired some very profitable diamond mines in South Africa.”

“My father?” she cried in disbelief. “Why, he knows nothing of diamond mines!”

“You don't need to know about them to become rich,” Jackson explained. “You just need to own one. And Captain Montgomery apparently won deeds to some land in South Africa with my brother Davis. At first they believed the land to be worthless, and Davis sold his all shares to your father. However, it turns out that very same land holds some rich mines. They are worth a fortune and belonged completely to your father. Of course, my brother Davis bitterly regrets selling them to him.”

Vivienne could not comprehend why her father would not have simply told her he owned lucrative diamond mines. “I don't believe any of this. Surely, my father would have written to me about something so important.”

“That is why you must show me all of your father's letters to you,” Jackson insisted. “There may be information in them that you may not comprehend, but will cast light on what happened. Can you bring them to me, Vivienne?”

“Of course,” she responded woodenly, too stunned to refuse him. “He sent me a wood and ivory box from Africa just before he disappeared. With it was the last letter he wrote to me. He said that the box was very valuable and that he would explain everything when he saw me again.”

Jackson's eyes lit up in excitement. “You must show this box to me, but you must not tell anyone about what I have told you. It could place you in danger.”

She nodded her head in agreement, falling silent. Overwhelmed by this information, she tried to make sense of it all. If her father had simply written to her about the diamond mines, she would not be in this perplexing situation.
Oh Papa, why didn't you just tell me the truth?

After a few moments, Jackson stood and walked around his desk, moving to stand before Vivienne. He looked at her intently, his golden brown eyes searching hers. “In spite of what happened with you and Lord Whitlock, I still want you, Vivienne.”

Startled by his abrupt change of topic, her cheeks flamed at the memory of the night at Bingham Hall when she was found with Aidan. It was a humiliation she wanted to obliterate from her memory permanently. “Please don't speak of that night.”

“I ask that you allow me to speak my piece first. I can't help feeling this is all my fault. If I had only answered your summons sooner, perhaps I could have prevented Lord Whitlock from being in your bedchamber.”

“My summons?” His words confused her again. She recalled he said something similar to her that last day at Bingham Hall.

“The urgent note you sent to me asking me to come to your room to help you.”

Vivienne felt her heart overturn and she suddenly knew something deliberate had been planned that night. Something that had nothing to do with her, for she never invited anyone, least of all Jackson Harlow, to her room. Who would have written a note to Jackson asking him to come to her room in the middle of the night? What if her aunt and uncle had returned while Jackson was visiting her room? Who wanted to see her disgraced? And Jackson Harlow blamed for it? “What note—”

Jackson interrupted her, “Lord Whitlock was making inappropriate advances toward you before and you wanted me to stop him. You were afraid of him, weren't you?”

Oh, she was afraid of Aidan all right, but not in the way Jackson thought. Aidan would never physically hurt her or force her to do anything against her will. Of that she had no fear. Yet Jackson's concerned manner pulled at her heartstrings. He desperately wanted to help her, but she did not know how to respond to this information.

“I hope you consider me more than just a friend and I hope I'm not mistaken in believing that you may have feelings for me. I know of no other way to say this delicately, so I will be direct.”

Vivienne waited expectantly, wondering what he would say to astonish her next, for it seemed this afternoon was to be full of nothing but surprising news.

“I am aware that your uncle is forcing Whitlock to marry you and that you are not happy about the situation. You do not have to marry him. I would like to suggest another alternative.”

Vivienne's heart thumped loudly in her chest as Jackson elegantly knelt on one knee before her. He took her gloved hand in his with a tenderness that surprised her, yet she could not help the little shiver that raced down her spine.

“I would like to offer you my hand in marriage.”

The ticking of the clock on the shelf echoed deafeningly through the silent office.

“You want to marry me? Even after—” Vivienne could not help the incredulous tone from creeping into her voice. He still held her hand with a firm clasp.

“Yes. In due time and through the proper channels, I was hoping I would be able to ask you to be my wife, but it seems I was unexpectedly preempted by Lord Whitlock. I know you are a respectable and principled lady and that Whitlock took terrible advantage of you that night. He alone put you in this unbearable and shameful position where you were compromised. Now your family is forcing him to marry you.” Jackson paused, his eyes holding her gaze. “I can offer you another option. You could marry me instead of Whitlock.”