“Aye, ya gotta be there, alright?” Liam said into the telephone receiver. “I want as many members of the family present as possible.”

“I don't wanna hang around a bunch of bloody toffs all night, Will,” Jackson's voice moaned from the other end of the line. “Up-tight sods in their prim tuxedos and shite drinkin' booze we paid for. Fuck 'em.”

“Booze I paid for,” Liam corrected. He ran a hand over his face and slouched lower on his desk chair. “Jackson, listen to me, eh? Ya listenin'? You're me brother. Ya need to be there. You and Ransom. And Audrey. I need all my siblings in attendance. It's important. Alright?”

Jackson clicked his teeth. “Yeah, alright,” he said, his tone amicable. “For you, Will. But I'd rather spend me Saturday night at the Broken Crown than a stuffy party for the Clementine Mercer Institute. Just so's y'know.”

“I'd rather be at the Broken Crown, too, Jack,” Liam stated. “We agree on that point. But this fundraiser is necessary; we need those donations for the expansion. There are too many orphans in England. Too many motherless children. We know somethin' about that, don't we?”

“We do, aye,” Jackson granted, his voice laden with memory. “I'll be there. In me finest.”

“Good,” Liam said. “Glad to hear that. And I hope this goes without sayin', but ‘your finest’ better include Tuppence on your arm.”

Jackson produced a pitiful sound in his throat reminiscent of both a whine and a groan. “Liam. Ya tryin' to kill me? Send me off to Flanders Fields all by me lonesome? Thought we were family!”

Liam shook his head against the handset. “Are you really comparing a night in the company of your wife to being killed on the battlefield?”

“I am, aye! And rightly so! Y'know what she's like, Liam.”

“I know, Jack. I know,” Liam allowed in an attempt to head off his brother's wallowing. “Having Tuppence there will be aggravating. It will. For everyone. Ya think I want her makin' moony eyes at me all night? No. But she's Edmund Holcroft's daughter, and your marriage to her is widespread news. Those upper crust attendees will expect to see her there. With you. Y'know I'm right.”

Jackson huffed into the receiver. “Yeah, I know. You're right, Will. Ransom bringin' Luisa? Tuppence seems to like her alright. Likes her fancy Italian dresses, anyway.”

“Aye,” Liam confirmed. “Luisa'll be there. And once you and Ransom take a couple turns around the ballroom with 'em, the ladies can keep each other company. It's a show, Jackson. A performance. These posh types like to see family unity. Stable married couples an' all that. Makes them feel more at ease with their own decisions, which in turn, makes them more comfortable about openin' their pocketbooks and writin' cheques.”

“Alright, yeah. Understood. I can put on airs for donations.”

“Good man,” Liam praised his youngest brother. “Eight o'clock. Tower Ballroom. With Tuppence. And no misbehavior.”

A faint snicker came from Jackson's end. “Eight o'clock, no misbehavior,” he chanted back. “See ya then, Will.”

After they'd said their goodbyes, Liam returned the handset to its cradle and pinched the bridge of his nose. One telephone call, and he was worn out as a whore come sunrise. Why was every little item, feat, and addendum with his family like pulling fucking teeth?

And now he had Rose to deal with.

Rose. There was far more to that girl than met the eye. After her initial protest, she'd taken his shooting tutorial with surprising ease and focus. Especially considering her reason for having an aversion to guns. She had moxie. No denying it. He had no plans of admitting it to her, but he'd found it oddly thrilling to see his revolver in her hands.

Despite his exhaustion, Liam sniffed a laugh. She was a constant source of entertainment, that lass. Her face when he'd pulled her diary from his pocket... Priceless. Unforgettable.

He'd lied to her. About the diary. He had done much more than ‘skim a few sentences.’ Some pages he'd read from top to bottom. Through her words, he'd learned a great deal about her character. Her stances. Her late fiancé. The current location of her two karat diamond engagement ring. And possibly most salient of all, her thoughts on him. The last entry had been especially enlightening.

Reaching into his lapel pocket, he retrieved the small leather-bound notebook he always carried on his person. He flipped through the pages to the last few he'd written on, revealing the quotes he had jotted down from Rose's diary.

Underhanded, perhaps. But everything inside Warwick Hall belonged to William Mercer. Everything. And it wasn't his fault she'd neglected to take the journal back to her room when she'd retired the previous night.

His lips formed a smirk as he read her words in his handwriting:

Before I met August, my taste in men was a bit questionable. Spontaneous...

Liam quirked an eyebrow in interest and skimmed ahead.

I still relish in the idea of the prohibited… If I allow myself to be governed by desire rather than reason, I could be besotted with Mr. Mercer before the week is out. He is exactly the kind of man my nineteen-year-old self would have fallen for: handsome features, boundless charisma, dangerous and forbidden.

A warmth of satisfaction spread through his abdomen as he read the confession. He imagined Rose's cheeks turning pink as she thought of him while writing these words, and it gave him a stir in a near-forgotten corner of his mind. If properly inspired, she ‘could be’ besotted with him. And she was consciously aware of it. Useful, that. Perhaps he'd been too hasty in his assessment of her inability to be seduced.

He skimmed to the end.

I wonder if Daphne is privy to any pertinent information. It wouldn't surprise me.

Daphne. The cousin. Seemed she was a proper journalist, always in the know. Well, Liam needed to know more about this mythical, desirous nineteen-year-old Rose, and if these diary entries were any indication, through Daphne was the way to go about it.

He would have to meet her.

Flipping back to the previous page, he skimmed until he found his son's name.

...Teddy seems darling. Such an adorable little boy. I've always wanted a child, and I have a feeling he and I shall be fast friends.

Liam smiled, and this time the expression was genuine. He'd had an inkling that Rose would take a shine to Teddy. And vice-versa. Though he was often able to read people and anticipate their behaviors, the satisfaction never lessened.

In regards to his missing mother ... Teddy is right: I do look like her. Frankly, it's unnerving. I wonder if Mr. Mercer has noticed.

Liam's gaze migrated from his notes to the small photograph of Clementine on his desk. He had most certainly noticed. From the first moment he'd seen Rose in his foyer.

Beside him, the telephone rang.

He picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

“So you're home,” came Kitty's voice from the other end of the line. There was an edge of accusation in her tone. “That figures. Ya plan on comin' into work today, Liam?”

“Don't need ya to be my keeper, Kitty,” Liam replied. “I'll be in later on.”

“How much later, eh?” Kitty questioned. “Ya got two meetings that can't be missed this afternoon. A potential new steel supplier from Coventry at one o'clock, and the Chamber of Commerce at three.”

“I know, Kitty,” Liam sighed, running his hand over his face. “I've never missed a meetin', have I? I'll be in before the first.”

“Alright,” Kitty relented. There was a pause accompanied by the sound of papers shuffling. “Since I have you,” she continued, “thought you'd want to know sooner rather than later that we had another resignation this morning.”

Liam's eyebrow twitched. “Another?”

“Aye. Another,” Kitty confirmed. “Factory floor worker from Castlefield Pressings and Forgings. I'd barely sat down at my desk before he was standin' in front of me, givin' notice. New job, he said.”

“New job,” Liam repeated in monotone. “Where?”

“Have a guess.”

“Fuckin' Gallagher Automotive Factory.”

“Got it in one,” Kitty said. “How many does that make now? We gotta do somethin' about this, Liam.”

“I plan to, Kitty,” he stated. “It will be dealt with. Soon. Anythin' else? While we're on the line?”

“Yes, as a matter o'fact,” she said. “For the Clementine Mercer benefit, ya need a co-host, Liam. You'll run yo'self ragged and miss out on donation opportunities if ya try to host alone. Y'know I'm right.”

“Co-host, eh? You volunteering, Kitty?”

“Fuck, no.” Kitty barked a laugh. “No, not me. My days of coaxin' open the pockets of men's trousers are over, aren't they? What ya need is someone skilled in gettin' tight-fisted rich folk to part with their beloved money. For fuck's sake, don't say Ransom. Don't even say Audrey, Liam. It's gotta be someone who can speak to these toffs in their own language. And it'd be best if it was someone who genuinely cared for children.”

“Hmmm,” Liam hummed in agreement. “You're right about that.”

He picked up his notebook and reread a passage from Rose's diary:

...Teddy seems darling. I've always wanted a child, and I have a feeling he and I shall be fast friends...

“O'course I'm right,” Kitty said through the telephone. “So, listen, I got a list of contacts here. No one so well-suited for this as Clementine woulda been, but I can make some calls. Find someone who fits the bill.”

“That's alright, Kitty,” Liam said. He tapped his finger against his notebook and smiled. “There's no need. I have someone in mind.”

【♜】【♞】【♟】

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