Darkest Death, page 5
part #2 of Darkest Series
He would have to look into the matter upon returning to London. For now, he’d continue his role of adoring, eager rookie, finally allowed into the field with his favorite mentor, searching for the approval of his superior. “What cause would Lady Lillian have to hurt the queen?”
“That is what we must find out. She saved King William when but a young lady hardly out of the schoolroom. He granted her a title and secured her rights to her aunt’s lands, fortunes, and titles. Many men would be surprised to learn how many of their sacred titles could be passed to the women. I, for one, do not intend to ever reveal such a travesty.”
Up to that point, he’d held Lord Downing in the highest regard, even though he’d decided to play things close to the chest. That had been in protection of Lady Sarah. Suddenly, the nobleman before him appeared more and more as a creature from a gothic tale of woe and less of a hero, a knight without his story. “Such a thing could not be true, surely.” Then another thought occurred to him as he stared at his mentor with inquiry and mild curiosity. What if his title had been one which should have gone to a woman at some point in the past?
He thought of his sister’s plight, alone and pregnant because a nobleman told her they were betrothed. Of course, she had believed him. The marquess had admitted as such to a member of their club. The man had promptly come to Lord Archer and mentioned the Marquess of Oxford was telling tales about his sister.
Fury had flooded him. For the first time in his young life, Lord Archer understood the term righteous anger. He’d confronted the marquess and made some threats to him to not speak of it again, but any more than that would have given credence to the marquess’ claim of bedding his sister. For now, they had to stick with the story of her being a widow.
But, how many other ways had women been mistreated by noblemen using their titles and people’s trust in them to deflower or otherwise hurt them? Women like his sister. Suddenly, things he’d never thought much of before weighed him down, pushing him to feel more responsible than he had upon awakening.
“You would be surprised at how many titles among the ton should not be with the men who have them, but with women, and that’s just within the last century alone. Now, as I was saying,” Lord Downing continued, oblivious to Lord Archers newfound awareness and distaste. “Lady Lillian saved King William. Some say she is not fond of Queen Victoria and believes our queen to be too outspoken for a lady.”
“That does not make her a killer or treasonous,” Lord Archer said as mildly as he could, not arguing the point as he knew Lady Lillian to be a bit of a rebel on woman’s strictures in society. A bit ironic that he found himself using skills taught him by the agency against one of his own. Would it become a habit? “I have seen her off and on all her life. She did not strike me as the murderous sort. She is a friend of Hermione’s, as I am sure you and our boss are aware.” He let the steel enter his voice, despite talking to a superior.
“Quite. We felt you would garner the least amount of attention should you infiltrate their group. That was true when Lady Sarah was the main target, but it remains true with Lady Lillian. You are required to gain all knowledge that you can about The Dark Duke and his wife. Soirees invited to, traveling plans, that sort of thing. Her marriage to the duke has overly complicated things, so we must take a more delicate approach than originally planned.”
Incredulous, Lord Archer stood up, snagging his hat as he arose. An odd sort of numbness stole through him. Would they want him to choose between his job and friends? He dreaded to think what Lady Sarah would think about his spying upon her person, much less that of her friends. “Am I to understand,” he began, “that I have been chosen for this mission solely for my connections to the suspects?” Though it stung a bit, his feelings of insult did not come to half that he pretended just now.
Lord Downing waved his hands around. “Of course not, Lord Archer. No insult intended. We want dedication, skill, and above all else, discretion. If someone were to learn that we investigated the duke’s wife without so much as speaking to the duke himself, the fallout amongst parliament could become ugly. They would wonder how many of them had been investigated behind their backs. We would lose some of our strongest proponents and money backing for the secret spy work.”
“I am honored you are trusting me to forestall such a grave situation.”
“Quite right. Do you have any questions?”
“Yes. Just how, exactly, am I supposed to get close to a couple on their honeymoon?”
The waiter brought the food just then. Downing made quite the deal of prepping his napkin and arranging his already perfectly placed silverware just so. “I expect you, a bright young man from everything I have heard and seen in the agency, to do that and with the aplomb you are known for.” The quietness of his tone chilled Lord Archer.
“Of course, my lord. I had only sought the guidance of the famed Lord Downing beyond what others may have trained me for.” Lord Archer bowed and began to leave, but stopped when Lord Downing spoke again.
“Quite right.” Lord Downing cut into his large sausage, and Lord Archer’s stomach rolled. For some reason, the way his fork and knife moved gave him the impression of menacing intent. “I have been hearing about young Lord Archer for so long, I have forgotten you have not had the experience that your years with us might suggest. Did you not start as the messenger?”
Lord Archer bit back the retort which came to mind. Impatience ate through him much like Lord Downing with his eggs. “Yes, my lord. My father felt it best I learned everything from the ground up.”
“Yes, the Marquess of Kent has been a great agent. I expect to see you do as well or better than he has.”
“Of course, my lord.”
“You are a viscount, are you not?”
Lord Archer nearly lost his temper. “I am sure you are well aware that is my title to use.”
“Yet, you introduce yourself Lord Archer, as a younger son, when you could be styled as a viscount.”
“Only within the agency, sir. My rank sometimes needled others and caused confusion amongst the hierarchy.”
Lord Downing’s eyes narrowed. “I see. Well, for this assignment, you are to use your full title. As the Viscount of Yorkshire, you will be afforded accommodations which might be helpful.”
“Of course, my lord. Any other special instructions?” Lord Archer wanted to leave. He needed to find out what had spooked his Lady Sarah, and he needed to find out how to get the honeymoon destination out of her or his sister.
“Do not fail. The life of our sovereign depends on you.”
“And what if it’s not Lady Lillian?”
“Then we need to know that as soon as possible so we can concentrate our search elsewhere. We believe there is not much time. That they have, in fact, already attempted an assassination using that newly styled Lord Jarvis.”
That name sent a jolt through Lord Archer. “He is in goal. The duke’s barrister is even now making sure the prosecution has everything they need to make sure he is not released.” He’d checked himself before leaving. Hermione could not go back to London with Jarvis on the loose. Her condition made her even more vulnerable.
Just being around Lady Lillian—he’d have to get used to her new title—could be dangerous if they allowed Jarvis to go free. And his contacts implied that Lord Jarvis and Lady Amber were not acting alone.
Lord Downing furrowed his brow. “How do you know this,” he demanded.
“Did you not just say I was recruited for this mission because I am close to the family?” Impatience bounced through him, and he focused on keeping still. “Sorry, my lord. I am anxious to begin my assignment. If I do not catch my sister soon, I may lose my best chance at learning of the traveling plans of the duke and duchess.”
The furrow cleared, and Lord Downing smiled. “Ah, to be young again with the eagerness afforded the youthful vigor of those like you. Of course, you are excused, Lord Archer. Or should I say, Viscount Yorkshire.”
Lord Archer nodded his head, then turned on his heels and headed toward the hotel staff to ascertain the rooms his sister stayed in. Viscount Yorkshire. He was better known as the Earl of Northumbria, so he was nearly undercover. He wanted to grumble. Once Father died, he’d be a marquess. In his work, he preferred the lower titles, if any, to be used. But now, he had his orders to the contrary. Would the use of his title help or hinder his pursuit of Lady Sarah? He grinned. Countess of York. With the usage of the title afforded him, he technically outranked her.
The grin slipped as he remembered the stricken look on her face when she’d bumped into him earlier. The kind of stricken look you wore when you discovered your best friend was a traitor?
Chapter Five
Lady Sarah
After her encounter with Lord Archer, Lady Sarah collected her emotions, and with meticulous care and working step-by-step through known facts, began planning. She’d made many plans and arrangements by the time she ordered up a light tea and biscuits. Hermione would be there soon, and Lillian would as well. One last moment before Lillian left on her honeymoon trip. She’d also have to apologize for leaving the breakfast table so abruptly, for truly, it was outrageous to expect her friend on her honeymoon to give up half her day to her old friends. She sighed.
Then, when her countenance could remain calm despite her inner turmoil, she rang for the maid and gave orders for prepping for the tea. Within a short space of time, everything lay ready. Hermione arrived first.
“Clarence is, uh, saying, ahem, goodbye to Lillian. He says we have one hour while the servants pack their valises and prepare for the trip to his estates.”
Sarah nodded and tried to return Hermione’s giggle. When Lillian arrived, she wore a becoming blush. “Marriage suits you,” she remarked to her friend.
“Yes, I believe it does. Verily, it is hard to remember that I had never wanted to enter the marriage mart in the first place. Wouldn’t it give Robert fits to know that his scheming landed me with more money than he could hope to see as well as a higher title?”
Lady Sarah couldn’t help the dark thread of satisfaction which rolled through her at the mere idea of the apoplectic reaction Robert may have had. “Wouldn’t it just. You deserve it, my friend.”
“Sarah, darling, what is it? You came over all funny at breakfast.”
And that, precisely, was why Lillian deserved such happiness. “Your Grace is astute in the morning.”
“Oh stuff it,” Lillian said, laughing. “You go around calling me Your Grace, and I’m going to believe the dowager is here.”
“She took her maid shopping to prepare for the next week.”
“Fine,” Hermione said, rubbing her belly. “That still doesn’t explain your odd behavior. Even now, I can see the tells around your eyes.”
Sarah allowed another sigh to escape her. She had to watch that she didn’t become like one of the heroines in the forbidden novels and spend her whole day sighing. The thought had her about to giggle at herself and put her in a much better frame of mind.
“I have a story to tell. Now, start eating your sweet biscuits. I had chocolate ones brought in just for you, Hermione. I know how much you have been craving them.”
When they’d both poured themselves a cup of tea and taken a biscuit, she started. Though, she still thought she ought to keep Archer’s possible perfidy to herself. Could Hermione handle it in her current state? Her emotions ran all over the place of recent days. “First, let’s tell stories of when we were kids. Remember how Hermione climbed that tree after a kitten?”
Hermione laughed and finished the story. The three of them told stories of their youth with all the nostalgia one might expect at such a turning point for them. The last story brought up fond memories of playing at Hermione’s house.
Sarah laughed as she stood, brushing the crumbs off her skirt, which fell when she dropped her napkin. “Lillian, Hermione, you are always good for me. Now, I must send a message to a dear friend from near here and confirming my lodging as I plan to stay in Scotland a little while longer. You, too, Hermione. You will stay with me.”
Hermione squealed a little before covering her mouth. “That would be lovely, Sarah. But would Father approve?”
“Your father is not here,” Sarah snapped before adding gently, “However, if he were, he would approve. They are such sweet people. I decided I would rather stay with friends than this lonely hotel for a week.” If Lord Archer betrayed the crown, it would kill his father. God, what a twisted web she weaved trying to protect her friend.
“Father may still send someone after me. We were supposed to leave tomorrow. He will be most displeased if I stay longer without his leave. He has become unbearably overprotective since…”
“Since you made a complete ninny of yourself and became pregnant as a result?” Lady Sarah said tartly. But the flash of pain on her friend’s face immediately sent guilt crashing through her. “I’m sorry, Hermione.”
“What happened?” Lady Lillian asked suddenly. “You stood up as if you needed to use the loo and never came back. I know you said we’d meet later, but it was odd and so unlike you, Sarah. Now you are as prickly as the thorns on my mother’s roses. So, my dear friend, what, pray tell, has put your knickers in a knot?”
“I…” God’s teeth, what did she say that would not have her looking the loon or having them suspect her of being a candidate for bedlam?
“Come, Sarah. You have never hesitated to speak your mind. You nearly had my butler in tears when you came for me a few weeks ago. He still pales when he hears the Countess of York is visiting.”
Sarah almost felt shame for that, but he really shouldn’t have tried to prevent her from seeing Hermione. “Well,” she huffed, “that will hopefully teach him a lesson about keeping me from my friends when I have a mind to see them.”
Hermione giggled. “Oh, it has. And, oddly, he has been kinder to me since…” She stared down at her belly, and Sarah felt a pang.
“As he should. Gossiping wankers. The lot of them.”
“The servants?”
“No, all men.” It came out with more vehemence than she’d planned.
Lillian set her tea down dramatically slow and stood up to her full height. “Sarah, you will tell us everything this minute, or, or I will call my husband in here and cancel my honeymoon until you do!”
“You will do no such thing, Lillian Lancaster!”
“It’s the Duchess of Canterbury now. And you know I will. Out with it.”
Hermione looked on anxiously. “Sarah, you know she will. Then Father would really come after me for ruining a duke’s honeymoon.”
“Hermione, stop it. He will not. You are feeling insecure because of what the marquess did to you and the uncertainty of your future. As much as your parents give lip service to how you are supposed to be, they have not kicked you out on your ear as many a so called noble family would have. That means they are not as harsh as they pretend.”
“Really?” The note of hope in Hermione’s voice helped Sarah to feel better after her earlier tirade.
“Really,” she reiterated gently. “Now, sit back down before you hurt yourself with your pacing. You, too, Lillian. Give me a moment.”
She went to the writing desk and pulled the drawer open. Carefully, she took the Valentine’s cards out, her finger brushing softly over the yellow roses one, a single tear falling. She angrily brushed it away and put the card back in the drawer. No, it might matter since Lord Archer arrived here. As much as she wanted to keep it a lovely secret, Lord Archer’s name out of that snake’s mouth…
“I received these last night when I came back to the room. They were left in my bedroom in this suite, so someone gave it to the maid.”
She handed both cards over. Both exclaimed over the lovely one which, before today, she’d hoped had been from Lord Archer. Then they screeched over the other one, particularly Hermione. “Spider!”
She jumped up and scrambled over to the bed and managed to crawl up there and kneel in short order, despite her pregnancy.
Sarah laughed. “Hermione, I am sorry. In my upset, I had forgotten your bit of phobia for the nasty things. It also has a crow feather, in case you missed it before your screech.”
“Hand it to me—without the rest of the card,” Hermione demanded.
Sarah did as asked, her heart beating rapidly. Seeing it again brought back the fear, along with the reason she’d called them up here. She wanted their opinion, yes, but she also had a plan for their safety.
“This is awful, Sarah,” Lillian said softly. “Do you have any idea who sent these.”
“Well…” She blushed furiously, not wanting to admit she had hopes for the one. “The pretty one, I’d hoped was from…Lord Archer,” she admitted.
Hermione snorted. “Why? He’s just…my brother…” Then her eyes widened. “He is twenty-five and eligible…one of the most eligible now that the Dark Duke has married.”
Sarah’s stomach danced around as if the waltz had a live orchestra playing in her stomach. “There are plenty of other eligible men, ones with titles higher than your brother’s,” she said defensively.
“Sarah…” Lillian’s impatient tones brought her back to the subject.
“Well, from something said when I visited to discuss options for Hermione’s plight, I’d hoped maybe him. But I cannot be sure. The other, I have no idea. But it properly scared me.”
“Of course you are scared,” Hermione said. “The raven is often associated with death. I think it is meant to scare you. As is the crow, so even if you didn’t know the difference between the feathers, that, along with the spider, would have caused lesser women to faint. Once I am past this ninny phase, I will try to look at the card for more symbolism. The spider is…” She breathed. “It is not as bad as it used to be. Since I started studying insects of all sorts, it has helped.”
