Darkest Death, page 13
part #2 of Darkest Series
“Quite right,” the duke said. “And I will help you. Something you said makes me believe your case might be related to what happened with Lillian. Though she is still her wonderful self in a lot of ways, she sometimes still has nightmares. But there are things. We will discuss it more on the train to London.”
A quickening happened with him. He recognized it. About damn time. Part of why he was good at his job was his instincts, which had been painfully missing since he’d arrived in Edinburgh. The quickening meant his mind had picked up on something. They would find it.
“As soon as everyone is ready for their train ride, we will go to the station. I’m sure Lady Sarah would like her things. As would I. Then, we take down this asshole.”
Chapter Fourteen
Lord Downing
London February 21, 1840
Lord Downing strode into his club with confidence. Super exclusive and only for those with particular…tastes. He could be more himself here, less the perfect noble and more the real perfect noble. One who did not let peasants stand in his way of being the king he deserved. A pang of grief hit him again as thoughts of Lady Amber flashed through his mind.
God he missed her, especially on nights like tonight. They’d have celebrated with a formal dinner at their place, theatre, then returning to their place to have the wildest sex. Instead, he had to search it out like a common man. Distaste and bitterness kept his mouth turned down, but in here, that was a benefit.
A woman dressed in the highest fashions brought him a drink and lit up a cigarette near him. “I haven’t seen you much lately, Your Majesty.”
Normally, before Lady Amber, her sultry tones excited him. Tonight, they angered him. Not only was she making fun of him, she knew something she shouldn’t. He grabbed her arm. “Do not call me that, Allyssa,” he hissed. “Who told you?”
She paled, but that was the only sign of discomfort before she glared at him. “Told me what? That you put on the airs of a royal? You’ve always acted as if you are the king of this place. The King of Thieves. Now,” she said and yanked her hand out of his grip. “I do not like being manhandled in such a manner. Do not make me turn the King of Thieves into the Court Jester. Austin would love to throw you out. You remember Austin? You treated him badly on more than one occasion. Well, he has worked his way up the chain, lover boy. He now is part owner of this place.”
Lord Downing scowled at her. She feared him on a personal level, but having Austin backing her up obviously gave her a false sense of power. Her mocking him by using his real title infuriated him. He settled back and regained his control, though, because she didn’t know. No one had betrayed him by talking to their courtesan.
Though many of the women were technically courtesans, many were also criminals in their own right and would gut a man as soon as look at one. He had other plans tonight, or he’d show Allyssa he was nobody’s jester.
He glared and turned his back on her, effectively cutting her direct. She laughed at his back, obviously unperturbed. He’d like to manhandle her some more, but he had a bigger problem. Andrea hadn’t checked in. She should have been back yesterday at the latest. He’d sent scouts to check on her, but feared she’d been caught up by Lord Archer, who really was one of the best to come along in the agency since Lady Sarah’s parents.
Everything in him felt itchy with the need to hurt someone. He took a drink of the brandy served him and surveyed the room. He could hire one of these fools to do some dirty work for him as he usually did, but that was proving unsatisfactory. He really wished he’d stayed and killed Jarvis himself.
The thought of Jarvis dead and tortured in ways he could imagine all too well brought a smile to his face for the first time all day. Once again, he scoped the room as he drank his brandy and lit his cheroot. His man still had not shown himself.
At half past, he stood up, preparing to leave.
“Leaving so soon, Lord Downing?” The way Allyssa said his name sounded like a sneer or insult. Before he could give her a proper put down, she continued with, “You are half-rats, which isn’t like your usual controlled self. Something bothering poor little momma’s boy?” She then turned her back on him and sauntered away with an extra sway to her hips.
He gripped his glass so hard, his knuckles whitened. Before he could say or do something he’d regret, he heard his name. One last glare at her back and then he turned toward the newcomer.
“Baron Hastings. I trust you have an excuse for once more being late?” The sarcasm dripped off him in noticeable waves if you were anyone except the Baron.
“Yes, and you are going to want to hear the on dits right away!” The baron took off his top hat and turned it round and round by the brim. A nervous affectation Lord Downing didn’t remember him having before.
“Come. We will use the private rooms.” Lord Downing walked down a hallway, the sounds of grunts and poker chips coming through the walls. The room he headed for was better padded. He’d paid for it himself. He knocked, and as soon as the door opened, he shoved his way in and kicked the current occupants out over protests.
“This is my room. So unless you’d like to lose the privilege, get out.”
He shut the door behind them as Baron Hastings paced the small room. “There is so much,” he began, not even waiting for permission.
It must be really good. He exhibited none of the trepidation like he had possessed for being late in Edinburgh. Curious.
“Jarvis. The whole town is buzzing. Apparently, the servants came back and found he committed suicide out on his country estates, the same day some mysterious benefactor bailed him out of jail.”
“Suicide? Really? Must have been afraid of the Dark Duke’s wrath.” Even saying “the Dark Duke” upset him and brought thoughts of Lady Amber to mind. What little patience he had was slipping, but he had to feign a reaction.
“I have scramble for a replacement for the attempt in two days for Her Majesty’s appearance in London. I have not found one.”
“I have somebody. As Jarvis was still a guest of the queen’s good police, I assumed we would need one.”
That deflated Baron Hastings completely. “How you are always two steps ahead is of great mystery to me,” he said as he sat in the ornate chair next to the oak desk.
“Earmarks of a good leader, you could say,” Lord Downing said a bit sardonically.
“Quite so.” He stroked his small beard as he thought for a bit, not meeting Lord Downing’s gaze.
Finally, Lord Downing’s impatience bore out. “And that paltry excuse is to explain why you are late?”
“No. Andrea has not reported in for a few days. We expected her to show up for duty two days ago.”
As did I. “And she didn’t show?” Did she die? Get stuck? More importantly, is Lord Archer dead? It really irritated him when plans went awry.
“No, she did not show, and she has been reported missing by her sister. So today, the agency was busy deflecting questions from the local coppers. As I was the one on duty, it fell to me. I spent literal hours talking with them about what I knew about her as we, of course, are listed as her employers. I did not tell them the real nature of her job. Do you know anything of what might have been assigned to her?” Now he stared intently, and Lord Downing became extremely irritated. Baron Hastings knew his plans. He was only too ready to jump on the band wagon for the promise of a duchy.
“I will check in when I go in tomorrow,” he said non committedly, burying his agitation.
“Oddly, there is nothing on report on her for the last two weeks, just that she is on again for two days ago. I, of course, did not tell them that. Although, reading between the lines, neither the coppers or I were telling all we know about her.”
None of this bode well for his mission of killing Lord Archer. “That is curious. Did you tell the boss?”
“No, because I was worried it was one of your side deals.” He waggled the bushy grey eyebrows at him meaningfully.
“Good. It is. Keep it under your hat for now. I will let you know if that changes.” And now his mood, sour before, now hit murderous, and he wasn’t quite finished with Baron Hastings’ role in it. “I will be taking my leave. As you just arrived, stay at least an hour then show your face at a ball or soiree. Surely, you have invitations.”
“Of course,” Baron Hastings huffed. “I and the baroness have many invitations to all sorts of events nearly every day. No escaping the damnable things, if you must know.”
“Yes, yes, fine,” Lord Downing said, waving off the extraneous information. “Just make sure to go.”
He turned on his heel and left out a side door. He decided to walk, even though on the fringes of the better part of town. A few of the street urchins saw him and scurried away to the shadows, but then a hulk of a man rose up from them. The gas lamps allowed him to see his face clearly, if a bit grey from the shadows.
The man smiled. “Well, now, aren’t we a proper governor? Give me that fine cane and any baubles and cash. No worries on ya now. If ya do as I says, I shan’t hurt ya none.” Then he grinned, the missing teeth leaving a black hole.
Happiness built in Lord Downing. He decided to play with his food. “Welp, and now I’ve caught myself in it, have I not? Don’t hurt me, mister,” he said, throwing his hands up, including the cane, as if in fear. “I want no trouble now. You can have…everything.” A low growl and he lunged the proffered cane at the man’s throat.
The ruffian grabbed the cane and pulled it out, the blood spurting all over. A few gurgles as he clutched his throat, a bit of a sway, then the man collapsed like a tower of bricks.
Another suit lost, damnable ruffians. Why couldn’t they just die without all the ruckus? He’d be forced to make a stop off at his secret Townhouse, bought under one of his great-great grandfather’s titles which had slipped into obscurity from the ton’s mind. Contentment purred its way through him. God, yes, he missed getting his hands dirty.
Chapter Fifteen
Lady Sarah
London, February 22
She paced in her suite of rooms at her London Townhouse. Everyone would be meeting at a ball at Hamsteads.
Her mind, heart, and body all seemed to be at odds with each other. She still felt confident of her place in society. That would not change. She had far too much money and a title. Even if they only pretended to like her, she would be welcome at most any house during the season.
Her heart leapt in gladness whenever she remembered she’d be married to the man of her dreams, to her childhood crush. She held that kernel of happiness inside her close. She just wished she had a better way to check on Brett. The doctor sent a telegraph just today saying he was recovering nicely, but that all other communications would be through the post.
She understood why, but chaffed under the strain of not knowing. Nothing could have prepared her for the shock of seeing someone shot. At the moment, her fear for the person had kept her from completely freaking out. Staying focused on Andrea and helping Brett had kept her too busy. But then, it was over. And two people shot, one dead, and nothing would be the same again for her. But that could be explained away as normal. She figured it had to be quite normal to go into shock after something like that, particularly the first time.
No, that wasn’t her problem. She would adjust, the way she did with her parents’ death. Not the same, but still strong. It was her mind which horrified her. After the shock started wearing off, she had this thrill. Thrill of helping and being a part of something bigger. Pride that she could be involved with stopping an assassination, stopping people like Andrea from hurting other Bretts all over the kingdom, maybe even the world.
Was this how soldiers saw their duty? Was this why so many left voluntarily? This sense of purpose? Or the new thing which was becoming such a huge part of their lives, the bobbies and police, did they, too, feel this way? She loved parties like the one they decided to put in an appearance to, to make themselves seen and known. Loved dressing up, feeling pretty, but she had always felt as if there had to be more. She’d tried some charities, and they were like the parties. She ended up with a good feeling, even some pride, but it just hadn’t touched her imagination and heart the way this case was.
The idea of pitting her mind and wiles against the like of Lord Downing made her blood sing, her heart anticipate, and to do it with Lord Archer by her side? Nothing could be more perfect. She suddenly stopped her pacing, feeling as if she’d found a key to her parents.
And suddenly, all of her was at peace. This was part of her legacy. She grabbed her wrap and took herself downstairs and ordered the carriage to be brought around. She would go the party proudly, the affianced of the viscount, friend of the Dark Duke, and she would flit and flutter about like the social butterfly she always had been, but now, she would look. She’d listen. She’d learn. She would put all the skills she had at gathering gossip to a higher purpose.
The carriage ride gave her time to plan who she would make a point of talking to, trying to remember who was at Lady Lillian’s and the Duke of Canterbury’s engagement party to use as a starting point. Not really for any reason special like, but a way of piecing down her acquaintances in society to give her a place to begin her questions to see who knew Lord Downing and how they knew him. As her carriage made its way to her dropping off point where Lady Lillian and Hermione would meet her as well as the men, she suddenly bolted fully upright.
Lord Downing. She’d seen him before. She’d seen him up close, talking to another man. One who wore their cravat in a bit of an old-fashioned manner, same as Lord Downing. That’s what she’d noticed about them, and then he’d left and surreptitiously followed Lady Amber out into a hallway? She couldn’t remember exactly, only that they talked. Now, what would the two of them have to talk about, and why had they’d been so secretive about it?
She would need to ask the Duke and Duchess of Canterbury if either of them remembered or heard or knew anything of Lady Amber’s friends before she’d been Lady Lillian’s companion.
As she alighted her carriage, she beamed at her friends. She adored the duchess’ dress, the dark green bringing out the highlights in her hair so she practically glowed. And despite being many months pregnant, the wrap with Hermione’s outfit managed to hide her baby bump. It was positively scandalous that she was showing up there tonight. Lady Sarah grinned.
Oh, let them come at her friend.
“Sarah!” Lillian cried out and rushed to her. The hug she gave her had her worried.
“What is it?”
“My parents are here, as is Robert.”
“Robert! I thought you said he died?”
“I thought he had,” the duke said. “I will find out what happened, but he is alive.
“I saw them as we arrived. Lillian said, her distraught tones making Sarah want to punch her brother in the face. “They haven’t seen me yet.”
“You breathe easy, my dear,” the duke said coming to be by her side. “No one will dare insult you in front of me, not even your father.”
“He is right, you know. You are now of higher ranking than your parents.”
Lady Lillian’s face brightened. “I am, aren’t I?” She looked positively pleased and walked a little straighter. “Oh, if they are too rude, I shall give them the cut direct. Actually, I will anyway to Robert.”
Lady Sarah was quite proud of her friend in the moment. She’d come a long way since meeting The Dark Duke. Some insecurities obviously still came through, but she’d been standing up for herself more and more.
Then it was Hermione’s turn to grab her in a hug. She caught Lord Archer’s eye, wanting a hug from him, too, but if Hermione’s scandal would get the tongue’s wagging, hers would get them barking. Instead, she put away that wish to ask, ”Why all the hugging?”
“I’m on pins and needles. I was so worried about you and my brother before, that I hate you being out of my sight for even a few hours, much less two days. Until all this matter is settled, you are stuck with me hugging you.” She jutted out her chin.
Lady Sarah turned to hide her smile then faced her friend again. “If I must, I must,” she said with a dramatic long suffering sigh, causing them all to laugh. Lord Archer held his arm, and they all went in and waited to be introduced.
She meant to tell them of the connection between Lady Amber and Lord Downing right away, but her friend’s upset probably would have had her marching right up to her father and demanding answers. She had a better way of drawing information out of people. Always had.
It took her a moment to realize she and Lord Archer were being introduced together, and she tried to pull back. “But we have not made an announcement yet,” she whispered hoarsely. “Have you even told your parents?”
“Yes, I have. And they are pleased beyond words. My mother’s actual words were, ‘Words fail me. I thought you’d never ask the poor girl.’ And then she hugged me and my father shook my hand.”
Lady Sarah had to laugh at his mother’s reaction. Still. “This is as good as putting it into the Times. You will create all sorts of problems if you back out now.”
They descended the staircase before Lord Archer gave her his answer. “I will never back out,” he said fiercely, staring into her eyes. “You have shown grace and compassion and courage and intelligence…and I have loved you since your parent’s funeral. Before that, you were just one of my sister’s friends. Then, you became a separate person to me rather than just my sister’s friend. But you were too young, and you’d just entered your mourning period. Then I tried to make a life for myself. A name for myself that I earned beyond that of my parents.”
Her heart stuttered then roared in her ears. “That’s when my childish crush changed to that of a young woman. And it has but grown. I wish you’d have said something.”
