Darkest Death, page 8
part #2 of Darkest Series
Louisa gave him an arch look but complied.
“Was that making changes as we go along, or making modifications as needed?” Lady Sarah teased. Lord how she’d love the sound of “my wife” as he spoke of her.
“That, my darling, is called giving into temptation after fighting it too many years. You have no idea. I wanted to ask you. It is not official, because I have plans for you, including an engagement gift. I’ve been waiting for the proper time, for you to show signs… I had plans for Valentine’s Day, to sound you out, but then you ran off with Lady Lillian and my sister, and my work forced me to their offices so I could not follow.”
“The rose card,” she said softly, joy making every part of her body feel as if a happiness drug had been drank.
“You got it? You never said, and I thought…”
“I didn’t know. There was no name. Plus…it came with another card.”
“Another card?” His brow furrowed together, and it was so cute on him, she wanted to brush it with her hands and push his dark hair away from his eyes.
“Yes, another one. This one was frightening. Spiders and raven feathers and…”
“Did you bring it?”
“Of course. It arrived at my hotel. I had thought to throw it away, but…it made no sense. I have no enemies that I know of, so why send me a threatening card?”
“Why indeed. I will wait here while you go get it, assuming it’s in your rooms.”
“It is,” she acknowledged and stepped back, though she wanted more kisses. “I will get it forthwith.”
“I would come with you, but I am not sure of my self-control at the moment.”
Pleasure that he found her irresistible slaked its way into her heart. She took another step back to keep from jumping into his arms again at his heated look. “I will be back shortly,” she said, then moved to leave.
She stopped at the door and looked back at him, memorizing him at that moment. For he stood tall and proud, loyalty and strength almost like mantles he wore. Love blossomed in a ferocious suddenness which made her earlier feelings like a childhood crush. And maybe they had been. She rushed out the door then, and drew up short in the hallway to lean against the wall, taking in deep breaths.
The love of her life, her crush, had implied the engagement would be real once it was all over. But did she really have to wait that long? Conspiracies and assassinations, and Lord knew who all was involved. She determined right then that she would not wait longer than two weeks.
She quickly brought the card back to Archie.
He studied it carefully. “I agree. Definitely threatening. And personal to some extent. Also, it worries me. Not many people knew you’d planned to leave London, had they?”
“Not that I am aware of.”
“You think you’re being followed?”
“No—maybe,” she acknowledged. “I thought I saw extra men at the church for the wedding. Thought I’d seen him before. I don’t know. Ever since Lillian was kidnapped, I am afraid that I have become quite paranoid.”
“I can hardly blame you. Then you get a card like this. Who have you shown? Lillian and Hermione.”
“This raven feather…it is as much a threat as the spider. Maybe more so. It is the harbinger of death in many cultures, including ours.”
Fear swept over her as he confirmed their suspicions. “I feel like it is a death threat,” she said. “I’d planned to hide out in Scotland. Clarence has no idea how grateful I am he asked us along.”
“As am I. We will get to the bottom of this.”
“Thank you, Archie.”
“Can I keep the card?”
She hesitated. She’d wanted to study it more, but really, she’d about memorized it all. “I guess so. What are you going to do?”
“Try and find some coded meaning or something along those lines.”
“That would be nice,” she said. Though she had no plans to stop trying to figure it out on her own, it couldn’t hurt to have him check over things. “It’s getting late. I best retire.”
“Of course,” he said gently, taking her hand and giving it a small kiss.”
Tongue tied at his kiss when she wanted to beg for more, she nodded and then fled to her rooms. Who knew searching for conspirators could be so exhilarating?
Traitors or not, she would not allow them to come between her and what she wanted, and she wanted Archie. And, as everyone knew, once the Countess of York made up her mind to something, she refused to allow anything to stop her.
Chapter Eight
Lord Downing
London, two days later…
He gingerly sat on the chair the guards provided, his cane laying across his lap. The sounds of misery and the stench of fear permeated the air. Underneath, he thought he detected a few prisoners possibly helping to gratify each other. The hay covering the ground was filthy, and likely, flea infested. One more thing to lay at Lord Jarvis’ feet.
He stared impassively at the man, distaste pouring through to every fiber of his being. Though a younger son of a noble family, Jarvis proved no better than the wastrels on the east end. Even his title had been bought by Lord Downing to keep him in line for the opening he needed with the Earl of Lamberth. His family was the only other family found who could trace their lineage back to the queen. If they only knew the original duke who fathered their line actually married the queen and only pretended his widowhood once they had two children, a boy and a girl.
Both had been bestowed with titles. One which handed down to the eldest female—trust a female monarch to make such titles, he thought disdainfully—the other through the male lines. He was the last living child through the male line. He’d made sure of it. Lillian, the last female through the females, but that still left her father, Jarvis, and a few cousins also descended from the female lines, though unknowingly.
He tapped the cane against his knee as he contemplated running the knife end through Jarvis here and now. One less contender for the throne once he’d proven their ancestry. And it would be so satisfying after the many and varied failures Jarvis had perpetrated. The largest success story, the killing of Lord Clarence’s father and the subsequent shipping ventures were why he’d kept him on. That money had bankrolled his bid for the crown. But since Canterbury had taken them down, Jarvis had done nothing but fail. Then the greatest failure, loss of his beloved Lady Amber. The two of them could have lead Britain and her Empire into the next generations. Their children would have been beautiful and strong, deserving of a king and emperor.
A deep and abiding hatred for Jarvis swept over him. He could do it. He could say the man grabbed him and tried to choke him. It wouldn’t even be hard to push Jarvis into trying to hurt him, make it look like self-defense. No, too many questions would arise like what was Lord Downing doing here and what did he know or have on Jarvis to rile him up so.
“What are you doing just sitting there?” Jarvis’ snooty tones grated on his nerves, but he did not so much as bat an eyelash out of place.
“I am contemplating the future. Speaking of the future, what do you make of your brother?”
“He is nothing now that his son is dead. He has to leave his title through that chit niece who is way too uppity for a lady.”
“And what if I told you the son was not dead?”
“I’d say your lying. I saw him there on the ground. I shot him myself.”
“You failed to kill him. Apparently, he had a ledger in his coat. Assurances, he told me. You hit the ledger.” Lord Downing pulled it out of his coat, showing the very obvious bullet hole nearly dead center. As interesting as the bullet hole was, the inside was fascinating reading. “He said he had the breath knocked out of him, and pretended to be dead so you wouldn’t shoot him. I had not realized he was so smart. He is…eager to help me with my vengeance as I saved him. Even now, I do believe he is at a garden party with his father while you are here locked up with the vermin.”
Jarvis sputtered and turned red. “You get me out of here. Now. Or make my brother do it. I don’t care. Why is he running free?”
“Because he is willing to testify before the House of Lords about your perfidy. Oh, and one more thing?” he added before Jarvis could really go on. “The other thing I was contemplating is the loss of Lady Amber.”
Jarvis sneered. “She is nothing but an empty headed female who became too full of herself, much like my niece. She deserves what happens to her. I wonder if she is as awfully treated as I am.”
The fury rolled over Lord Downing fast as a lightning strike, the heat smoldering in his mind and heart. But not by so much as a twitch did he reveal his true feelings to this…this pretender. The fool still had no idea the trouble he stirred with his words against his beloved.
“She is dead. She was intelligent, smart, from a good family, and she had class unlike most of the ton. Also, she often bested you one on one,” he reminded Jarvis, needling him.
“Only because those brutes of hers kept anyone from actually hurting her. Wait, what do you mean dead? She was alive. They took her to goal.”
The man possessed no sense of survival, it would seem. How dare he deny her death. Mayhap he believed that as she wasn’t here to speak for herself, that no one would be the wiser. But Lady Amber had always been better than all other females. Better than all other females could even aspire to be. Her intelligence shone like a beacon against others, including half the men of the so called Polite Society.
Grief threatened to overtake his vaunted control. “Those brutes of hers were her bodyguards, provided by her husband. Namely, me.” As he spoke, each word became quieter and quieter until but a whisper, forcing Jarvis to lean in against the bars to hear.
Jarvis jumped back, eyes wide and darting back and forth, as if searching for a copper to save him.
Ah, there it is. His survival instincts kicked in at last, but it was too little too late. He’d caused his beloved’s capture and subsequent killing at the hands of his enemies. There would be no mercy. And now that the shipping venture had been busted up by the real Dark Duke, and he had Lord Archer for his opening with the family he needed to do away with, Jarvis was nothing but a loose string. And Lord Downing did so hate messes and loose threads. They were so untidy.
“She never said. You never said.” Jarvis’ Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, sweat from his forehead dripping to the filthy floor covered in scat, eyes still darting about.
It took all his self-control not to reach through, grab his dirty lapels, and bash his head against the bars. Between the money skimmed from him and loss of Amber, he could barely see straight. “No. We were biding our time. Once you’d assassinated the queen, we would have announced my true heritage, that of my however many great grandfather, the husband of Queen Elizabeth. But now she is dead,” he said in a voice that should have scared him into pissing his pants. But he was too stupid. How did he ever come from noble stock? “Oddly enough, Jarvis, you are also a descendant of him, of his daughter. We are cousins many times removed.”
“Well now, the family lore did not say anything about that.”
“Think about it. How you were passed over for a title, yet Lady Lillian inherited from her aunt. The queen, of course, had to make other families a similar deal to hide her true purpose in making sure her offspring were both titled.” He waved the hand controlling the cane which swept near the bars, but Jarvis stayed impassively thinking over his words.
“She always put on airs, even before King William gave her that other title,” Jarvis said, anger mixing with self-pity.
“She earned that one by being quicker and smarter than you,” Lord Downing said with some laughter in his voice. He would so enjoy the severing of his ties with this lout.
“Well, how would you like to live having the likes of her and that high and mighty uppity Countess of York going about, putting on airs as if they were equal to men? They never knew their proper place.”
For whatever reason, Jarvis lumping the countess in with Lillian all of sudden caused an idea to germinate in his head, and he made a mental note to have Lady Sarah’s lineage checked back to Elizabethan times. If she, too, were of Tudor or even Stuart lineage, perhaps he would not have to kill her after all. He could kill the sniveling brat of that upstart Alexandrina.
“When do I get to get out of here? The food is disgusting, the man next to me should be in Bedlam, and I want to go back to my estates,” Jarvis whined. “My fool of a brother promised to arrange for my release, but obviously, he is as ineffectual as always.”
It must run in the family. “I should let you rot in here for your part in Lady Amber’s Death.”
Jarvis’ sweat dripped off his face in rapid drops now. “Please, my lord. My sincerest apologies. I did not mean for her to be caught, but she was not dead. On my life.”
“I know you did not want to be caught. I’ve chosen to lay the blame squarely on the shoulders of The Dark Duke. And to show you no lasting hard feelings on my part, I will arrange for your release and take you to your estates within the hour.”
Jarvis’ face lit up. “You’re the governor. And to show my gratitude, I promise to take care of Lady Lillian for you for free.”
Certainly, no survival instinct. The man just learned he’d been a party to having his benefactor’s wife killed and still did not think twice about accompanying him? Lord Downing stood, leaning on his cane for show, to appear less threatening. “I will wait for you out front.”
Lord Downing turned about to leave, effusive praises from Jarvis in his wake which only added to his irritation. Men reaching their filthy hands out, trying to grab his clothing as he passed, begging for food or money only added to his disgust. It helped keep his glee in check over being so close to bringing Jarvis to just for his wife’s death. Only after he paid the bribes and left the goal did he allow himself to smile. He would finally have his revenge for the death of his beloved.
Jarvis hopped up into the carriage a short while later, adjusting his jacket. “I can’t thank you enough. That place is no place for a gentleman.”
Lord Downing exerted every ounce of willpower he’d perfected over the years to not shoot the man in the face right in front of the goal. Lady Amber had complemented him in ways he’d never find again. She’d come from royal stock herself and would have made a strong queen to have by his side, someone who could do away with their enemies as easily as himself. Someone he trusted.
And in bed, she’d been his equal, ready and willing to try whatever depravity he asked of her as a proper wife should. Keeping their marriage secret caused them to lose a lot of their time together. He’d always believed it worth it, that they could make up the time in the future. Anger built up mile-by-mile as they headed to Jarvis’ country estates. About a half hour out, they came to a stop, and excitement built in him. He eagerly alighted from his carriage and greeted the men there. They held out weapons, as did he. All of them waited for Jarvis to come out.
“Jarvis,” Lord Downing finally called. The lazy son of a bitch could not be killed soon enough for his taste.
“What? Have you figured out why we’ve stopped? Tell your driver to get a move on. I am anxious to be home. I feel as if I could sleep for a week. The noises at night kept me awake in that hell hole.”
“I have found the cause,” Lord Downing said mildly, holding back the anger flashing through him again. “No, come out here and see for yourself.” He waved the men off to the side which put the door in the line of sight so Jarvis could not immediately see them.
Lord Downing pointed his weapon, telling himself the many reasons not to pull the trigger, including developing an alibi for himself and not having blood on his new carriage. But still his finger tightened.
“Into the other carriage,” one of his hired hands said, and Lord Downing blinked back the urge to kill, taking slow, even breaths.
“Now, what is this? I am not going to do any such thing. Lord Downing, tell them. I am on your side.”
“You really have no self-respect or preservation instincts, do you,” he whispered. “You killed my wife.” He carefully enunciated every word of that last sentence, jabbing Jarvis in the chest with his gun, almost hoping it went off.
Jarvis paled, and it gave him a perverse sense of satisfaction to see that he’d finally scared the man. “I thought you forgave me, knew it was Lillian and her maid. And that Dark Duke. The real one, I mean,” he babbled.
“I will take care of them as well, have no fear. But you were the one who brought it down on her. You and Robert, another sniveling brat not worth the title afforded him. Yet, he has come in handy.”
“I-I-I—” he sputtered, backing away and right into the arms of the hired men.
“Make sure it looks an accident. Give me an extra two hours once you are at his home.” He grinned darkly into Jarvis’ eyes. “You may do as you will with him, as long as it does not show on the outside of his person.”
Jarvis nearly fainted, providing him with some satisfaction. Good. He deserved to suffer worse than that, but he had to be careful. For now.
Then Lord Downing jauntily stepped back into his carriage, and his driver turned back toward London, Jarvis’ screams music to his ears as they moved away. Now, to further his plans with doing away with the Lamberth family once and for all.
Chapter Nine
Lord Archer
Scotland…
With the help of His Grace, Lord Archer managed to have a carriage to himself and Lady Sarah. At least for the first leg of the journey. They followed behind the others. At first, they sat proper a distance apart, the tension palpable.
Too much had happened in the last two days, and none of it kissing Lady Sarah since that time in the drawing room, much to his frustration. They announced their fake engagement in low tones after dinner that first night, and the dowager had cackled. Actually cackled. The others had smirked.
“Fake engagement? Didn’t we already have one of our group do that?” Hermione had said pointedly.
