Monica stood between Jackson and Eva as they took a familiar path to his study, where Jackson often spent his evenings entertaining a guest or reading after dinner.This must be the only room that hasn’t changed.Everything was just as it had been when Monica last served tea and offered a shoulder massage in this room.And the last time he…
She hesitated in the doorway, Eva almost knocking into her. Monica slyly recovered by checking the bottom of her shoe and proceeding to the loveseat with her sister-in-law.
All of Jackson’s favorite classics were on the mahogany shelf behind him. Monica even recognized some of the first editions she had tracked down and found for him as Christmas and birthday gifts over the years. Some, likeTess of the d’Urbervilles,had a note written by her on the front page. He had gently chastised her for ruining the monetary value of the book… before praising her for making it “priceless” to him.
She knew it was the same copy because of the slight imperfection on the spine.
“I’d be beside myself from this impromptu visit, Monica,” Jackson said as he sat in his usual chair, “but you’ve brought Evangeline. I can only imagine what that means for me.”
“We’ll keep things civil,” Eva said.
“How darling. I do love a good spat, though. Don’t I, Monica?”
She ignored that. “You’re friends with Jean-Pierre Beaumont, aren’t you?”
Jackson only looked slightly caught off guard. “Johnny? Oh, it’s been a while since I saw him in the flesh, but we go back. Didn’t you meet him? Suppose not. After he knocked up that woman who became his wife, he was so busy paying penance to his family. Poor bastard.”
Monica preferred to cut to the chase. “I’m assuming you’re familiar, then, that the Beaumonts and the Warrens go back. Apparently, my mother-in-law Isabella is good friends with Jean-Pierre’s mother.”
“How about that? I may remember something in that regard.”
“Isabella is such good friends with them that she seems to have taken my daughter off to France against anyone’s permission. I want to know what she intends to do once she’s there. And if she and Abigail are no longer there together,where are they?”
Jackson had no tricks to hide up his soft sleeves. Monica still knew every one of his ticks, his tells, and his other body language as if they were still together after twenty years.My God… would it have been that long?They had been broken up as long as they had been together. In that time, she kept tabs on him, much as he had kept tabs on her – but for very different reasons. He was a pervert who wanted to insert himself into the periphery of Monica’s life, and she needed to know where he was hunkered down at all times.To protect my sanity.She leveled her gaze on the man she once held a gun to.To protect my daughter.
So when he tugged on his ear and twirled his foot over his crossed knee, she knew what that meant.He knows something.But he was not a good man. He would never tell Monica exactly what she wanted to hear. Not unless she gave him something first.
“You must be desperate,” he said over the knuckles brushing against his lips, “if you’ve come back here to ask for my help.”
Her heart roared with warning.Don’t fall into his trap.The Monica who walked into this house todaywasdesperate, butshe was also full of self-confidence and aware of this man’s intentions toward her. She had come prepared to do anything to find Abigail.
Anything.
Even that.
Eva was the only bump in that plan. Had Monica come alone, though, she might be in genuine danger. Jackson would never harm Eva, though. Not only did he have zero interest in her as a woman – and therefore, a potential victim – but she was powerful enough in her own right that she could take him down with all the Warren know-how. Like Monica had influential and passionate contacts among the wealthy, so did Eva, andherstended to be women who were willing to assert their money on behalf of feminine fury any day of the week.
To touch Eva was to bring down Jackson’s immediate demise. But he would have no problem defiling the wife of Henry Warren. He wouldrevelin it.
Monica knew that was a weapon in and of itself.
“I must find my daughter,” Monica said. “I know what Isabella is capable of.”
“And what is the former Lady Warren capable of? Regale me of your worries, Monica.”
What a bastard. Yet wasn’t this exactly what Monica anticipated?
“We have every reason to believe that she’s kidnapped Abigail without any intent to bring her back to America. Isabella is brash and bigoted, but she’s not stupid about the way the world works. Her thinking may be comically old-fashioned, but she virulently believes in her traditionalism, especially at our class level. I believe…” Monica glanced at Eva, who had remained silently stalwart through this conversation, before continuing. “I believe that Isabella intends to marry my daughter into the Beaumonts,and is willing to go into hiding until Abigail is legally old enough if that’s what it takes.”
“That’s quite the theory. So, what doIhave to do with this?”
Monica was gathering her words when Paisley lightly knocked on the door and helped herself in.She must have some serious seniority in this house if she’s bold enough to do that.Which was how Monica figured that Paisley was her latest replacement, the woman who would be strung along with promises of marriage and inheritance as long as sheobeyedandmade herself beautifully useful.Yet she had a different fire behind her eyes than Monica did. If Paisley was a lifestyle submissive, like Jackson preferred, then she wasn’t the servile type like Monica. She had an air that implied she liked to earn her punishments instead of avoiding them in the name of kink.
Poor thing. He’ll ditch her before long.Servile was exactly Jackson’s type. Notthis.
“What is it?” Jackson snapped, his body tightening in annoyance.
“Just making sure there’s nothing else you need, sir. The kitchen is about to close.”
