Page 20 of Never Doubt I Love (Calloway #3)

Alexander had spoken to Calloway at length about most of his businesses, the haberdashery in particular, but he did not know what to expect as he and Forester took a hackney across town to Cheapside. Forester was not helpful in the least, choosing to talk the entire way about Olivia’s scheme and Alexander’s part in it. Thankfully, Forester found the whole thing more entertaining than deceptive and promised not to give any details to Lord Calloway, as Calloway would undoubtedly berate his sister for wasting time.

Alexander suspected Calloway already knew his sister was purposefully driving away men, and her methods had already led to two engagements among her friends. Not only had Olivia made herself look less desirable, but she had spent so much time and effort praising the ladies around her that it was a miracle no one had fallen for her kind spirit. At least, not enough to do something about it.

No one except Mr. Harris , he reminded himself. Harris was quite clearly smitten, and Alexander disliked it immensely.

“You seem to be gathering quite a lot of wool,” Forester said when the hackney stopped outside of the bustling haberdashery. “What has your mind so tied up?”

Alexander could easily revisit his pathetic worry that he would disappoint Calloway with this task, but through the time he had spent with Forester over the last couple of weeks, he had come to learn that the man possessed an intelligent brain beneath his oftentimes ridiculous exterior. Forester had a knack for seeing through a person’s lies, no matter how skillfully presented.

“Mr. Harris,” he admitted as he stepped from the coach and took in the many people going in and out of the shop. Despite the haberdashery being in Cheapside, many of the patrons looked to be from the wealthier part of Society. Alexander would have expected them to remain closer to Bond Street when they did their shopping.

Forester paid the hackney driver and came to stand beside Alexander. “What about Mr. Harris?”

This conversation was dangerous, and Alexander knew it, but he desperately wished to speak out loud his fears. This was not a subject he could discuss with Olivia. Not when it directly involved her.

Taking a deep breath, Alexander forced himself to trust Forester just as he had when he’d panicked outside of Brooks’s weeks ago. “Harris seems to have formed an attachment to Miss Calloway.”

Forester hummed thoughtfully. “That he has. And you can call her Olivia. I am well aware that the two of you have become rather familiar with each other. Although...” He lowered his voice, at the same time smirking at Alexander in a way that made him nervous. “I am also well aware that you have started to fall in love with her, no matter what you claim about remaining single.”

Alexander knew it would be foolish to argue, but he wanted to. “I should not be in love with her,” he said, shaking his head. “She deserves far more than what I can give her.” Forester had been wrong when he’d said Alexander was starting to fall. He had fallen . Completely. The last weeks had been agony; each of their private moments as they’d played chess or discussed fellow members of the ton filled his soul with a warmth he had not felt since before Juliet’s death. Every moment he spent with Olivia made him feel more and more alive, and he was terrified to know what would happen when he lost her. How far would he fall then?

Forester hummed again, studying him carefully. “In my experience, you cannot always choose whom your heart decides to love. Why do you think you are not good enough for her? Have you forgotten you are the brother of a duke?”

Alexander huffed a humorless laugh, tucking his arms behind his back as he watched the crowds. Several people glanced his way, but no one was willing to acknowledge him as soon as they recognized him. They all pretended not to notice he stood there. “I have not forgotten, because my brother is exactly the problem. He is dangerous.”

“So you believe.”

“So I know . I imagine Calloway told you about Hugh’s unnatural interest in Olivia?”

Forester nodded. “He did. But I have been watching the duke, and if he truly had sinister intentions, I would not have expected him to be this patient.”

“I learned quickly not to underestimate Hugh’s willingness to work for what he wants. I am only glad Charles has kept his distance.” In fact, Charles had been absent from several of the functions Hugh had attended, which made Alexander nervous. Whatever his younger brother was doing, he was doing it in secret. There was a slim chance Charles was too much of a coward to do anything dangerous, but Hugh had already lost one pawn when Alexander had taken up residence with the Calloways; he would not easily give up the other.

“Well,” Forester said, clapping Alexander on the back. “We will continue to watch over Olivia, and perhaps Harris will win the race, so to speak. Or...” He lifted his eyebrows high.

Alexander shook his head. “The duke would never allow my suit.”

“The duke does not have any say in your suit.”

But he did. Alexander had sent a letter to his mother last week, hoping to find her well and expressing his hope that he might soon have a way to care for her and get her away from Hugh’s influence, but he hadn’t yet received a reply. Nor did he have the means to purchase her a cottage. He hoped this visit to the haberdashery would give him a way to convince Calloway to hire him on in some capacity, rather than keep him only as a student.

Clearing his throat, Alexander nodded toward the shop. “Shall we investigate this madness?”

Forester grinned. “After you, my good man.”

* * *

After an hour of shouting with the shopkeeper, Mr. Robertson, over the frenzy of eager customers and touring the shop and its storeroom in the back, Alexander was certain he had found a solution to the madness. He only hoped he was right as he laid it out for Forester.

“I get the sense that most of the customers are here because Calloway owns the place,” he said, glad that Forester had agreed to step outside, where it was a good deal quieter. They had moved to the alley just beyond the shop, standing hidden in the shadow of the building. “While I would not say the quality of the products are any different from other haberdasheries’ wares, people seem to expect good materials from a man as influential as Lord Calloway.”

“That would explain the madness,” Forester agreed. “But how do we fix it? That shopkeeper looked near tears when we told him we were here on behalf of Calloway.”

“I believe the first step is to hire another full-time staff member, someone to assist Mr. Robertson more permanently. The part-time staff have helped, but they do not get the full scope of what happens throughout the day.”

Nodding, Forester removed his hat and leaned against the brick of the shop wall behind him. “I would have suggested the same, but that will calm only some of the chaos. I cannot fathom how anyone finds what they need in that maelstrom.”

Alexander hoped he had found a solution to that as well. Mr. Robertson had told them that he could hardly keep the shelves stocked, and he always seemed to be out of something or other. “The shop needs a better way to keep stock of everything inside. If Robertson records his purchases in greater detail and makes note of exactly what he sells, he can anticipate the products that move more quickly.”

Confusion twisted Forester’s features as he tried to comprehend what Alexander was saying. “His books are perfectly balanced, from what I can tell. He keeps track of his purchases already.”

“In general terms, yes. But Robertson’s books detail only the money. If he knew how many feet of blue ribbon he sold each week, for instance, he could know better how much to provide the next week.”

“Ah yes, I see what you’re saying. He could anticipate demand.”

Alexander nodded. “Exactly. And, if the shop’s popularity changes, as it likely will over time, he will be able to see the trends and adjust accordingly.”

Forester’s expression turned more thoughtful now, with mischief thrown in, as was usual with him. “I may have known Robertson for only an hour or so, but I cannot imagine he would be particularly skilled at such detailed bookkeeping.”

Alexander grimaced. “I thought the same thing. We would need to hire someone to manage that, though I think Calloway can afford it.”

“Calloway can afford just about anything he wants. I am impressed, Alex. Who would have thought a Bailey could have brains as well as vanity?”

“I certainly questioned it.”

Laughing, Forester returned his hat to his head and looked out to the street, which had calmed a good deal since their arrival. “Well, in my opinion, Calloway’s idea to send you here was a good one. I promised my wife I would purchase her some buttons; perhaps you could find us a coach while I hop in and pretend I know what I am looking for.”

Alexander nodded, feeling a sense of pride as he stood there on his own in the alley. Today’s task had been relatively small, but he hoped his ideas would make a difference. If nothing else, he felt as if he had truly learned something and could perhaps find a job elsewhere if not with Calloway.

Perhaps he could live his own life after all.

Just as he took a step toward the street to find a hackney, someone darted into the alley and slammed directly into him, shoving him into the wall and knocking the air out of his lungs. Alexander fought to breathe, but his attacker pressed his arm against his throat. Charles?

“I expected more from you,” Charles said, snarling the words. “Two whole weeks, and His Grace has gotten little more than a few dances with the girl. He is out of patience.”

Though he was getting dizzy from the lack of air, Alexander shoved Charles with all his strength and managed to mostly free himself. But Charles pushed him right back into the wall. He may have been younger, but he was stronger.

“You are out of time,” Charles said, digging his heels into the dirt and leaning his weight into Alexander to hold him in place. “Now we do this my way. Your darling little pet Calloway will belong to His Grace before the end of the night, and you will wish you had not wasted your chance to do as he asked.”

Alexander growled. “You will not touch her!” He threw his fist into Charles’s side, but Charles hardly flinched. He had been in enough brawls and fist matches that he would not go down easily.

Charles returned the punch, sinking his fist into Alexander’s gut. With nowhere to go, pressed against the wall, Alexander felt the full brunt of the hit. “I will do whatever I want,” Charles replied, then stepped back, releasing Alexander. Before Alexander could do anything, Charles’s fist hit him square in the nose, and he stumbled to the ground.

“Please.” Alexander hated that he was reduced to begging.

Charles laughed, the sound low and dark. “You have until the end of the night to do what you have been told.”

Alexander’s nose had begun to bleed. He stifled it with his sleeve as he scrambled back to his feet, wishing he had spent more time learning fisticuffs and less time with a foil. “What do you have to gain from this?” he asked, though he doubted he would get any more of an answer than he had the last time he’d asked.

Charles scoffed. “You know I have nothing without Hugh, just the same as you. But unlike you, I do what needs to be done to ensure I have any sort of future, however bleak it may be. This is your last chance, Alexander.” His voice dropped, losing its edge as he looked over the dirt and blood that covered Alexander’s clothes. “Do not disappoint the duke again, or you will regret turning against him.”

He spun on his heel and disappeared into the passersby, leaving Alexander fighting to breathe in the alley. What a fool Alexander had been! He had allowed himself to become complacent, thinking perhaps Olivia was right in believing the duke had changed his ways. He should have been doing more to keep Hugh away from her, or he should have returned to his brother’s house to convince him to pursue someone—anyone—else.

“Alex? What in the devil happened to you?” Forester came around the corner, his eyes wide as he took in Alexander’s bruised and bloodied self.

Alexander swiped the blood from his nose, grateful that it seemed to have stopped bleeding already. It did not hurt enough to have been broken. “I need to find Calloway.”

“But what—”

“Now!”

Forester’s eyes went wider. “Yes, of course. He’ll be at White’s with Harstone, most likely. I told him I would find him there and report what you—”

Alexander didn’t bother listening to the rest of what he was saying. Though he looked a sorry mess, he rushed onto the street and barked an order to the first hackney driver he saw. Though reluctant, the driver nodded and opened the door to the coach to let Alexander in. Thankfully, Forester was right behind him.

“Are you going to tell me why you look like you are running from the devil himself?” Forester asked as soon as they were moving.

Alexander let out a single laugh. “You are not far off. Charles confronted me.”

“Just now? I was in the shop for only a moment.”

“A moment was all he needed.”

“Why would your brother attack you?”

“It was a warning.” Alexander stared down at the blood staining his sleeve. The black of his jacket hid some of it, but his shirtsleeve had soaked up a good portion. He would not easily hide it while in the gentlemen’s club, assuming he could even get inside. He was not a member. Likely, Forester would have to go inside and fetch Calloway, and Alexander would have to wait.

He wasn’t sure he could wait.

“What kind of warning?” Forester pushed.

Alexander shook his head. He was too close to falling into a panic to explain everything more than once.

By some miracle, Forester got Alexander inside the club with nothing but a smile and a quick remark that Alexander did not hear, and they found Calloway sitting in a relatively empty corner, deep in conversation with Lord Harstone.

“Calloway,” Forester said, grabbing the man’s attention, and then he stepped aside to let Alexander face him.

Calloway frowned. “Alexander, what—”

“Olivia may be in danger.” There was no may be about it, but Alexander did not want to believe Charles had really followed him across Town just to fight him. He knew Charles was prone to do anything Hugh said, but he hadn’t expected things to become this violent.

Or maybe he had expected it but had refused to acknowledge it, living in a hopeful bubble created by Olivia Calloway.

Calloway rose to his feet, his jaw tight and his expression hard. “What sort of danger?”

Alexander swallowed. “Charles. He told me I have one more chance to give Hugh what he wants, or he will step in.”

“Step in?” Calloway’s words were little more than a growl.

“What does that mean?” Harstone asked far more calmly.

Alexander forced a breath; he would be no use to anyone if he did not at least try to maintain his composure. “With Charles,” he said quietly, “it could be anything. I fear he may try to compromise Olivia. Somehow force you to accept the duke as her best option. Or even her only option.”

Calloway snarled, but he was intelligent enough to keep quiet, just like Alexander. They hardly needed to draw attention to their corner. “Surely His Grace knows I would never force my sister into anything she does not want.”

“But would you subject her to scandal and ruin her chances if something were to happen?” Forester asked. Thankfully, he seemed to recognize the danger of the situation. “Simon, I think there is a real possibility that the duke could accomplish his goal if we are not careful.”

Calloway’s hands curled into fists, and he seemed to be itching to pace. “Surely your brother is not foolish enough to try something.”

Alexander shook his head. “Hugh? No. But Charles? He has nothing to lose, and you can imagine how Society would praise the duke if he stepped in to save Olivia from whatever Charles may attempt. And if you refuse the Duke of Tipton?”

“His influence could damage yours, Calloway,” Forester said, glancing at Alexander. “That could compromise some of your businesses. Potentially cost you thousands of pounds.”

Calloway snarled. “I can afford to lose a little business.”

“What if you lost them all?” Alexander argued. He didn’t think Hugh’s reach was quite that far, but Calloway needed to consider the possibility. “Calloway, you are well-liked, but so is Hugh. He has his enemies, but none of them are brave enough to go up against a duke. If Society sees him as a hero, and you give him the cut direct, seemingly without provocation, it will affect your family as well as you.”

“Then, what would you have me do?” Calloway asked, his anger giving way to desperation. “Lock Olivia in her room for the rest of the Season?”

“And set the beau monde speculating when their favorite debutante disappears?” Forester put his hand on Calloway’s arm. “I know better than anyone the power gossip can have, and you cannot subject Olivia to that.”

“We have friends who can keep Olivia safe,” Harstone said, speaking for the first time since the conversation began. He was not looking in their direction, however; his eyes had focused on the back of a nearby man’s head, his eyebrows turned downward.

Alexander did not know who the man was or why he had captured Harstone’s interest, and he couldn’t find the willingness to care. “I think you need to confront Hugh quietly,” he said, though he hardly liked the idea. “With an audience of as many people as you can think of that you trust to ensure things remain civil. Hugh will not give up easily, but he needs to know you will not bend to his wishes and that he has no power over you.”

Groaning, Calloway sank back into his chair and stuffed his hands into his hair. “I am starting to think he does have power over me, if one warning from his brother is enough to leave me with only one option. I am more than willing to tell him that he has never had a chance with Olivia, but I cannot see this ending well. Why is he so determined to have her? A baron’s daughter ranks so far beneath him that he should not have taken an interest in the first place. So why did he?”

“It’s because he’s flat broke.”

Alexander flinched at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, and all of them turned to the man Harstone had been so interested in. He had shifted his head enough that Alexander could see his profile, but that hardly made his interjection any less surprising.

“Huntingdon,” Calloway said in confusion.

Robert Loxley, Earl of Huntingdon, so rarely left his house that Alexander had nearly forgotten he existed, though he had been the talk of London three or four years ago, when he was still a bachelor. The Elusive Earl, they had called him, and he was one of the few people Hugh had never dared cross. Alexander had never figured out why.

Huntingdon looked from one man to the other before he lifted a single shoulder. “I could not help but overhear your... interesting... conversation. You wonder why the Duke of Tipton is interested in a woman with a dowry of thirty thousand pounds? Because he is penniless.”

Alexander choked at the man’s words, not sure he believed them. “No, he isn’t.”

“How do you know?” Forester asked at the same time.

A smile played on Huntingdon’s lips. “It is better if you don’t ask, but you can trust that I am telling the truth. Tipton has been paying for people’s loyalty for years, squandering his assets in order to maintain control over as many of the beau monde as he can.” His green eyes landed on Alexander, an intensity to his gaze that made Alexander feel exposed. “That is how he controls you and your younger brother, is it not? Doling out your funds based on how well you serve him? Then there is the fact that he has sold his unentailed properties to attempt to pay off the many debts he has amassed, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he becomes entirely bankrupt before the Season’s end unless he finds himself an incredibly wealthy wife.”

Alexander had spent most of his time with Hugh up until a couple of weeks ago and had never seen any signs of him being low on money. Then again, Alexander had never been privy to his brother’s finances. He had only cared about his own allowance, which was pitiful as it was. And they hadn’t traveled to any of the Tipton holdings in months, which was unusual. Hugh had said it was because he far preferred the company in Town, but this past winter was the first they had ever spent in London instead of going to the country estate in Derbyshire. Was his lack of funds also the reason Hugh kept cutting their mother’s allowance and claiming she spent too much?

Alexander badly wished he could argue against Huntingdon’s outlandish claims, but his words stuck in his throat, as if he knew it was all true.

Huntingdon slowly folded the newspaper he had been reading, far too calm for a man who knew more than he should. “I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Lord Alexander,” he said as he stood. “And I am truly sorry that your sister has been caught up in something like this, Lord Calloway. I pray I was able to help in some way, by sharing what I know.”

Calloway seemed to be speechless, just like Alexander, but Forester took a step forward, a determined look in his gaze. “Huntingdon, you wouldn’t happen to know all of this because you tried to steal from the Rowdy Duke, would you?”

Huntingdon lifted a single eyebrow. “Why would I steal from the duke? Or anyone, for that matter?”

“Because you are the Thief of London, yes?”

The Thief of London? Alexander nearly laughed despite the gravity of the situation. True, there had been a notorious thief roaming the city around the same time Huntingdon had been popular, but that was hardly a correlation. Why would a wealthy earl also play a thief in the dead of night?

Huntingdon’s expression remained fairly neutral as he studied Forester. “I thought the Thief of London died years ago,” he said lightly. “Do let me know if there is anything else I can do to help, Calloway.” There was an unmistakable twinkle of mischief in his eyes as he turned and left the room without another word.

Forester cursed under his breath. “One day I will get him to admit he is the thief,” he muttered before turning to Calloway. “There is one question answered, at least; Tipton is desperate. And desperate men are dangerous.”

“Hugh more than most,” Alexander said with a grimace. “Calloway, you must know that I never wished your sister to be put in harm’s way, but I fear my staying with you has only increased my brother’s interest in Olivia. I should never have agreed.”

“I did not give you much of a choice,” Calloway argued.

Harstone stood and put a hand on Calloway’s shoulder, glancing among the three of them. “From my perspective,” he said, “we are fortunate that you did agree, Alexander. You gave Calloway an opportunity to trust you, and now you have warned us of your brothers’ plans. On my part, I am glad that you are on our side of this battle.”

Alexander hoped it wouldn’t come to anything close to resembling a battle. “I only want to ensure Olivia’s safety and happiness,” he said, bowing his head.

“I agree with Harstone,” Calloway said eventually. “I think, regardless of which side you are on, we would have been dealing with the duke’s interest one way or another.” He let out a weary sigh. “I knew her dowry would attract some unwanted attention, but I could not have changed her circumstances even if I’d wanted to. Our father was clear in what he wanted for his only daughter, and of course I want what is best for my sister.”

Calloway turned his gaze to Alexander, his expression pleading. “What do we do?”

Alexander hoped his idea would work. “You will have to decline Lady Lockhart’s invitation to her ball this evening; we cannot trust that Charles will keep his distance, especially in such a large gathering. Beyond that... How quickly can you put together a garden party?”