In Which A Star (In The Game Of Espionage) Is Born And Nepotism Is Alive And Well
Victoria knows her life resembles a fairy tale. However, in all the fairy tales she knows, the princess is always swept up in events, never the agent of her own destiny, always relying on fate or some prince to see her through.
Victoria is nothing if not the mistress of her own destiny.
Granny Asher had taken her by the shoulders and told her "You have assets, girl, use them. And whatever you do, do it all the way. And never complain if you fail, for it'll be your own fault if you do." And then she had thrown the young Victoria out.
Victoria remembered her grandmother fondly. She had always given such good advice. So she had walked the streets and claimed the best spots through guile, abuse, treachery and a spiked beer. And she had found a suitable target, an older gent with a large fortune and respectability to spare. And she had wooed him and won him and made him take her as a bride.
The society women had tittered behind their fans and cut her cold in the street, but Victoria didn't care. She followed her ambition with renewed zeal, fawning and satisfying her husband with charm, flattery and outright lies, until he had signed over everything to her inheritance.
When he died and the will was read, the Saporta family looked ready to climb the table and kill her there in the judge's chambers, decorum be damned. Except for young master Gabe. He was grinning. One of the few things she and her late husband had shared was an irrational fondness for the boy. He was the only interesting one left in the bunch, for a start.
After a suitable period in mourning black, Victoria stripped off her veil and set to work rebuilding her late husband's empire in her image. The barely profitable office building near the theatre became her first 'gentleman's club.' She hired only the sweetest, cleanest girls, and taught them all to read, write and remember. And that if they wanted it continue enjoying her favour, they kept their mouths shut except to her.
What was blackmail in the slums was merely good business on the high street.
Victoria picked up the silver pot. "More tea, sweetheart?" Gabe held up his teacup, his face harder now than it was when he had stood in the wedding party. Victoria considered it an improvement. "Now, what's this young Captain's name again?"
"Beckett," he said, neck flushing slightly above the high collar. "But he's enamoured with a doxy by the docks. I figured...well."
She smiled. "Never be ashamed, never apologies, never complain, and whatever you do, do it all the way." She winked at Gabe. "Advice from my dear old granny. I've lived my life by it. Do you by chance know the doxy's name?"
"Elisa," Gabe spat.
Victoria made a mental note as she leaned forward. "Now, here is what you must do."
Gabe listened intently. Victoria patted his hand as she gave him his instructions.
He really was her favourite.