The Devilish Duke, page 23
“And why would they be doing that?” she asked absently, mulling over the name he’d just revealed. Tina… Oh my! The Crowley maid who had come to visit her, talking of Jane! Both murdered, and in a similar manner. Of course they had to be connected. And the thought that she herself had ties to both of them gave her a chill. But she was careful not to reveal how shaken she was to Lord Crowley.
Crowley frowned slightly. “I do not wish to be too graphic for your delicate sensibilities, Lady Sophie, but supposedly both girls were tortured before being strangled to death, so now the authorities think both may have been killed by the same man. Which means they now want to interview me. Can you believe such a ridiculous thing? I have never heard the like.”
She swiped a tear from the corner of her eye with her free hand, determined to hold herself together. “Did you know that Jane was one of Grey Street’s orphans?”
Lord Crowley looked at her blankly for a moment before recognition flared in his eyes. “That is your little charity, is it not?”
“Yes it is.” She gazed past him toward where the woods lay in the distance. “What happened to Jane’s remains, Lord Crowley?” The dense trees twisted together as the wind whistled through their leaves, a heavy and darkly foreboding presence hanging over them. Sophie shivered. She couldn’t imagine the terror Jane must have felt in those woods.
“I believe she was buried in the village cemetery,” he answered. “At least, I think that is what the constable mentioned. I do not know for sure, though. As I said, I really pay little attention to my staff.”
“Perhaps you should start,” she chided him, hearing the note of bitterness creeping into her voice. “Considering two are now dead.”
Lord Crowley turned his watery, hooded gaze on her, looking slightly bored. “The servants are Lady Crowley’s department.”
“Did anyone think to notify her next of kin?”
“What next of kin? Did you not say she was an orphan?”
“She was, but that does not mean she has no next of kin. In this instance, Margaret O’Halloran, the headmistress of Grey Street, acted as Jane’s. She should have been notified. Both she and I have been very worried over her disappearance.”
“I am sorry, Lady Sophie,” Lord Crowley apologized, though it lacked any sincerity. “If I had known, I am sure I might have done something more.”
She could only manage to nod as a numbness stole across her body. “Perhaps Lady Crowley was right; I think I do need to freshen up, for I am suddenly feeling weary.”
The Earl squinted at her as they moved through the entrance to the enormous house. “Yes, I must say you are looking a tad pale at the moment. I hope I have not offended you with such gruesome details.”
“No, of course not, but the whole situation has come as a shock to me,” she replied as her small heels clicked on the marble floors. They approached a grand staircase with gleaming wood bannisters, which dominated the foyer.
“Yes, it is darned annoying, is it not?” Crowley said, bringing her to a halt directly in front of the stairs. “Cannot believe the authorities would have the insolence to question me over the affairs.”
His complaints were really grating on her nerves. How insignificant they were compared to what Jane and the other girl had suffered. “I am sure that you of all people would want answers, as they were your staff.”
He raised a fist to his mouth, stifling a yawn. “Not my fault they were stupid enough to get killed.”
Sophie deliberately released her hand from where it was resting on his forearm. “It is just such an attitude that makes me appalled to be a member of society.”
Lord Crowley held out his hands toward her, palms upward in a beseeching posture. “Come, Lady Sophie, I do not mean to offend. It is just the truth of the matter. No one cares what happens to a servant.”
“Your truth. Not mine,” she said. “For I care very much.”
His thin mouth flattened as he assessed her shrewdly. “I shall assume that you are overwrought from your journey and news of the maids’ deaths, Lady Sophie, and hence I shall take no offence at your words. My housekeeper will show you to your room.”
Sophie smiled without a hint of mirth. “And I shall assume that your attitude is born from ignorance and not just callousness.”
She stalked up the last few steps toward the grand staircase where the housekeeper was waiting. Glancing over her shoulder, she was satisfied at the look of complete affront gracing Lord Crowley’s face. It served the condescending, pompous fool right.
The only reason she did not turn around and leave immediately was she owed it to Jane to try to find out what had happened. And if that meant she had to put up with that slimy Lord Crowley, then that was what she would have to do.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Will you be wanting to wear the new blue gown to this shindig tonight, my lady?” Abigail held up the aqua blue evening gown toward Sophie.
Sophie smiled weakly at Abby’s term for the lavish ball the Crowleys were hosting to commence the weekend’s festivities, an event sure to be somewhat scandalous, if Devlin’s gossip was to be believed. If it wasn’t for the fact that she might be able to find out something in her effort to seek justice for Jane, she would have turned around and gone straight back to London rather than attend.
“Or mayhap the green one?” Abby held up a second gown in her other hand.
Sophie looked toward the two dresses and found herself drawn to the blue. The rich, cerulean color of it rather reminded her of Devlin’s eyes. She groaned. Now she was comparing the man’s eyes to a dress. What was wrong with her? Obviously, the horrid news from today was making her overwrought.
“Everything all right, my lady?”
“Yes, Abby, I am just a little tired.”
“Must say I’m a bit worn out too from the journey and awful sad about the news of Jane. Even though I only met her those few times, she was lovely,” Abby replied. “However, we still need to get you dressed for this evening. So which dress should I press for you?”
“I do not particularly feel like going.”
“But you must,” Abby insisted, an extremely earnest expression in her brown eyes.
“Yes, but after what happened to Jane…”
“That is exactly why you must attend,” the girl urged her. “Think of all the gossip that shall be swirling about regarding what happened to Jane; you may well find a clue that could lead to identifying the fiend that killed her.” Abby clutched a handful of her skirt, finally allowing her professional mask to slip as her dismay showed through. “Poor, poor Jane. She was always so sweet and kind. I told her when she left that if I could ever help her in some way, I’d be happy to do it. And if pressing your gown and getting you to that party is all I can do to help seek justice for her, then do it I shall.”
“You are right, Abby,” Sophie agreed. It was difficult to argue for inaction in the face of such an impassioned plea. And the girl was right—Jane deserved whatever justice they could find for her. “I shall wear the blue one then.”
“Excellent choice,” Abby said. “I shall just go down below stairs and get it ship-shape for you.”
“Abby, please do be careful,” she warned. Abby was twenty-five and well able to take care of herself, but Sophie suddenly felt a deep regret at bringing her here now that she knew someone was targeting the Crowley maids. Who knew if the killer would move on to other staff here this weekend? “I do not trust this place, particularly after what has happened.”
“I shall,” Abby promised. “This whole murder business gives me the darn right chills. But I shall see what I can find out from below stairs.” She curtsied before heading out the bedroom door.
Sophie sighed and fairly collapsed down onto the chaise longue in the bedroom she had been allocated. She still could not believe the turn of events. Jane was dead and poor Tina, too.
The thought that when she and Devlin had been asking about Tina, the girl herself was very likely being murdered made her sick to the stomach, as a cold tendril of dread wound its way down her spine.
Absently, she looked around the room, trying to distract herself from her dark thoughts. She noticed that the furnishings were somewhat tactless in their design. Gracing the sides of the room were some statues of nude figures posing in extremely odd positions: one in fact was of a female balancing on her head with her legs up in the air and shaped in a “V.” And then on every wall were paintings comprised of naked men and women cavorting with each other. Simply scandalous.
“Seems to sum up our hosts’ proclivities perfectly, would you not agree?” Devlin’s voice drawled out.
“Devlin!” she gasped, jumping up from the chaise and looking toward the interconnecting doorway to her right. There he stood, leaning against the doorframe, looking so strong and solid, with a tentative smile on his face.
She ran toward him and launched herself into his arms. “I am so glad to see you.” She could not prevent the tears that escaped from her eyes. As much as she knew relying on him for comfort placed her heart in jeopardy, she needed his arms around her more than anything just then. The solid strength of him was a healing balm like nothing else.
He pulled her in tight against his chest, and she felt the warmth from his body start to disperse the coldness that had crept into her own. He felt so firm and warm against her; she could not but help feel safe and protected. It was an intoxicating feeling. And one she was beginning to become a bit too used to.
Sophie froze at the thought. She couldn’t allow herself to become completely dependent on a rake, who had all but admitted she was his means to a successful business venture and little else. But how was she to steel her heart against him, when it was beginning to crave his very nearness?
“What is it, Sophie? Why are you crying?” He tilted her face up toward his and used the pad of his thumb to brush away the stray tears.
She sniffed, trying hard to collect herself. “Devlin, I have heard the most terrible news.”
He pulled her back slightly from him and looked into her eyes. “That Crowley’s maid Tina has been murdered?”
Sophie blinked back more tears.
“Yes, I too heard the news just after I returned from your residence this morning,” he informed her.
“But that is not all,” she said. “Apparently Jane’s body was discovered the other week in the woods.” She could not hold back her emotions any longer. “They say she was killed like Tina and strangled to death. Poor Jane!”
His body stilled, and he dropped his hands to circle her waist. “Tell me exactly what you have heard.”
With him fairly holding her upright with his strong hands, she recounted to him in as much detail as she could remember her conversation with Lord Crowley.
“Do you think, as I do, that their murders are connected?” She sniffled.
He raked a hand through his thick, dark hair, momentarily lost in thought. “I have never believed in mere coincidence before, and I do not believe I shall start to do so now.”
“I know,” she agreed. “There is something terribly dark and malevolent about this whole situation. Besides which, Lord Crowley seemed to care more about being inconvenienced by the whole thing.” She was so glad Devlin was here, yet equally frightened by how glad she was. She reached up and pressed her palms against his lapels, feeling the broad hardness of him and the warmth of his body through his clothing.
“Crowley’s a pompous idiot,” he dismissed with a shake of his head. “Forget about him.”
“Yes, he is,” she said. “It just makes me mad when members of society think that other people are inferior or matter little, just because they are from a lower social class.”
He gave her a small, private smile that made her feel like for that moment, she was the center of his universe. The man was positively addicting. “I know it does. However, it may interest you to know that after I found out that Tina was murdered, I spoke with Inspector Singleton from Scotland Yard, who is charged with investigating her death.”
“You did? What an excellent notion,” Sophie said. Her eyes pricked at having this unexpected partner in her quest. And she hadn’t even had to resort to blackmail or cajoling to procure his assistance. Even without love, a lifetime of having such an ally at her side wasn’t the worst thing she could think of. “What did he say? Did he shed any light on the matter?”
She could not be sure, but a guarded expression seemed to fall across his features. “Not a great deal, I am afraid.”
“Do they have a suspect?”
“No,” came his clipped reply. He’d stopped making eye contact with her. Odd.
“But how can that be?” Sophie said, clutching at his jacket to draw his full attention back to her. “Surely there must be some clues as to the villain’s identity?”
Still without looking at her, Devlin guided her over to the chaise longue and sat her down. He walked over to the small fireplace and glanced into the flames. “I have my own men working on investigating the matter. But now they will also need to make enquiries about Jane’s death, too, for I would be bloody surprised if her murder was unrelated to this maid Tina’s and possibly even the footman’s.” He took a deep breath and regarded her steadily. “I want to remind you of the promise you made to me to not go and further involve yourself in this matter.”
Sophie folded her hands in her lap and clenched her fingers together, mentally girding herself for battle. “You may have asked me to promise such a thing, Devlin, but you very well know I did not do so.”
He pounded a fist on the mantle, startling her and causing a small blue and white vase to clatter, though it remained upright and whole. “Damn it, Sophie, this is not a game. People are being killed.” He took a step toward her, his expression softening slightly. “I would not have you hurt.”
“Yes, I am very well aware of the fact that people are dying, Devlin,” she argued, mentally pushing aside his concern, even as it caused her cheeks to flush with warmth. “But it is imperative that I seek answers for Jane.”
“If Jane’s death is linked to the other two, this has become a very dangerous situation.” Devlin began pacing in front of the fireplace. “I would ask that you not make any further enquiries.”
She felt some comfort that he was actually asking her to do something rather than demanding it. “I’m sorry, Devlin, but I must. I owe it to Jane to seek justice for her. Can you not understand that?” she implored.
“And can you not understand that I must protect you?”
“Why? Because it might jeopardize your precious business contract if I cannot marry you?”
“For God’s sake, woman!” Devlin stalked over to where she stood and grabbed a hold of her shoulders. “Is that what you really think?” He pinned her eyes with his own.
“I do not know what to think!” Sophie retorted, somewhat flustered at the feel of his hands touching her shoulders. “You did, after all, wish to marry me to ensure the success of your business endeavor, did you not? So why should I not think otherwise? Your business dealings are what is most important to you, after all.”
The intense blue of his eyes was playing havoc with her equilibrium. She quickly looked back down. A sinking sensation flooded the pit of her stomach. All of a sudden, the way in which he answered her question had become inexplicably important to her, when really it should not have mattered at all.
“Damn it, I don’t know.” Devlin sighed harshly and let go of her. “My business dealings are the only things I have been able to rely on, year in and year out.” His gaze dropped to the floor, and his voice became merely a whisper. “People always leave.”
A deep sadness washed through her. “And you think I will?”
“Maybe. I don’t know.” He strode over to stand in front of the window. He cleared his throat briefly as he glanced out toward the gardens. “The truth is that I find myself in somewhat unknown territory here.” He turned back and regarded her with a hooded gaze. “I’m discovering that my business dealings are not as important to me anymore as they once were.”
“They are not?”
He took in a deep breath and exhaled. “I’ve actually concluded that protecting you is more important.”
Her heart seemed to skip a beat. “What do you mean?”
“Came as a shock to me, too. But the fact of the matter is that I find I am completely terrified of harm befalling you.”
The intensity in his expression had her knees feeling weak. For in that instant, she, too, found herself in unknown territory. But then, as he abruptly left the room, mumbling about seeing to his carriage and horses, Sophie realized that his revelation hadn’t revealed any feelings for her beyond the friendship they undoubtedly shared.
The fact hurt her more than she cared to admit. And she realized with a sense of dreadful clarity that she was falling for an oh-so-charming rake who could do and say all the right things but was in all likelihood completely incapable of love…just like her mother had done before her. The thought sent a shard of ice to her very core.
Chapter Thirty
The swirl of sounds emanating through the ballroom were not enough to hide the hushed silence that suddenly fell over the gathered crowd as Sophie’s name was called aloud from the top of the stairs, heralding her entrance to Lord and Lady Crowley’s evening soiree.
Sophie took a deep breath and walked through the doorway and down the stairs. In the ballroom below, she could see the avid speculation on all of the guests’ faces at her appearance tonight, the first ball she was attending officially as the Duke of Huntington’s fiancée. A daunting title, to say the least.
Whoever would have thought that being engaged to the Duke would have garnered such interest?
She set a serene smile on her face and began her descent down the stairs. She was surprised at the number of guests, for it looked as though there was close to one hundred people gathered.
Sophie relaxed somewhat when it appeared that the crowd below seemed to lose some interest in her when it became obvious the Duke was not accompanying her.
