Fortunately by then, there were few loose sheets left, and the remaining scripts were quickly complete.
He could’ve completed his task in half the time, if scanning for a stray verb hadn’t turned into reading the rest of the sentence. Which then required knowing the other characters’ sharp or witty comeback, leading to page after page being read compulsively. Out of order or not, Vivian’s writing was engaging and highly entertaining. It was a true miscarriage of justice not to have these plays performed for the public at large. It was a moral imperative to help.
Until Graham’s extended network of spies and informants turned up a new lead to follow, there wasn’t much Jacob could do to find Vivian’s kidnapped cousin. But although he could not fully save the day at this precise moment, he could at least attempt to distract her from the spiral of panic, and perhaps even tempt a smile back to her lips. Or another kiss.
He drew a fresh plume and a clean sheet of parchment from the communal supplies in the center of the table and began drafting his own anonymous letter to his favorite advice column. Who would know better how best to woo a woman like Vivian than Vivian herself?
Once finished, Jacob folded the paper and sealed it with wax. He’d copy the publisher’s address from the newspaper when Vivian wasn’t there to see his interest in her column and divine what he was up to. It might take weeks for her to respond. That was all right with Jacob. He was eager, but not in a rush. Some of the best things took time.
Before either of them could consider a proper courtship, multipleissues needed to be resolved. The first was to bring home Quentin. The second was to help Vivian achieve her potential as a playwright.
Of the two tasks, the latter was the most straightforward and already in the works. He’d sent off several notes as Sir Gareth Jallow and was waiting to see who would jump first.
Vivian was a phenomenal playwright. She just needed someone to believe in her.Jacobbelieved in her. And he would not rest until everyone else realized what they’d been overlooking.
Whether she would have any time to spare for Jacob once she was rich and famous and her cousin was home safe and sound… well.
Thatwas when he would need to heed Ask Vivian’s advice.
After his mission, Jacob returned the weasels to the barn and rejoined his siblings seconds before Chloe and Faircliffe burst back into the sitting room.
Well, Chloe did the bursting—Faircliffe was more of an “impassive expression and proper posture” sort of duke. Nonetheless, he strode quickly to keep pace with his wife.
Vivian leapt to his feet. “You weren’t gone long at all. Did Uppington refuse to speak to you, too?”
“He practically knocked his own retinue asunder to make room for us.” Chloe rolled her eyes. “Then lowered his voice to ensure no one overheard our actual words.”
“The earl actually divulged something useful?” Vivian asked in surprise.
Chloe made a face. “Uppington heavily implied that the Marquess of Leisterdale would do anything to maintain his privileges.”
“Which isn’t exactly news,” Faircliffe put in. “Leisterdale stands atop his bench an hour a day in Parliament, crowing about the need to conserve power within the aristocracy. His speeches about nobility’s innate superiority have appeared in political pamphlets for years.”
“Itisa popular sentiment amongst the upper classes,” Jacob pointed out.
Chloe sighed. “Uppington said he fears the marquess may take drastic measures. His exact words were, ‘Who knows what lengths my father would go to if he thought he would get away with it?’”
“Lords get away with everything,” Vivian said. “They should all be in prison. Present duke excluded.”
“I appreciate the clemency,” murmured Faircliffe. “I hope to always be worthy of it.”
“Unfortunately,” Chloe continued, “‘my father is a ruthless man’ is not as helpful as ‘here’s evidence my father committed this specific crime.’ Parliament is full of ruthless men who would take drastic measures if they believed they could get away with it.”
“And then what?” Vivian asked. “Where is justice? Even if we pull Quentin out of Leisterdale’s attic in front of two hundred witnesses, no consequences at all will happen to a peer of the realm.”
Elizabeth drew her sword. “I’ll happen to him.”
“You’d better not,” Vivian warned her. “A marquess can claim ‘privilege of peerage’ to escape prosecution, but an untitled woman cannot claim any rights at all.”
“First things first,” said Jacob. “We find evidence, we rescue Quentin, andthenwe plot appropriate revenge against the guilty party.”
“All right, then.” Vivian lifted the advice column letter she’d been writing. “Let’s hope the shark takes the bait.”
24
For the next twenty-four hours, Jacob did his best to buoy Vivian out of panic over her cousin’s safety. Although he couldn’t assuage her fears as he wished—Vivian had every reason to be worried—Jacob did possess a prodigious number of distractions.
The tasks he normally undertook alone, from the care and training of his animals to their deployment wherever his siblings needed them, he now performed with Vivian at his side.
