Miles was so startled by this information that he momentarily forgot what he was doing there. But then he thought of what Clio would make of it, and that he had better tell her immediately, which reminded him that he did not know where she was. “It is not about Saunders. It is because I love your other granddaughter Clio and I want to marry her.”
Lady Alecia’s face grew mean and pinched. “You would sacrifice all this,” she gestured around with her hand, but ended up at Mariana, “for that stupid, trouble- making girl?”
“It is no sacrifice,” Miles said. “I am the clear winner.”
“You are my boy, you are,” Sir Edwin said jovially. “Let me—”
“Shut up, Edwin,” Lady Alecia ordered, but her eyes did not leave Miles. “You cannot have Clio. You can never have her.”
“What are you talking about?” Miles demanded.
“I’ve taken care of Clio once and for all,” Lady Alecia said gleefully. “She is gone. Gone. She will never meddle in my affairs, never disobey me, never look at me with those wicked eyes again. Me or anyone else.”
“I demand you explain what you mean.”
“I exchanged her for something I wanted,” Lady Alecia explained. “And there is nothing you can do about it.”
Miles sensed that Lady Alecia would not elaborate unless compelled. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Tell me what you did with Clio or I shall have Mariana arrested for assisting at a murder.”
“You bad, bad baby bear,” Mariana said, starting up. “It is my birthday.”
“Shut up, Edwin,” Lady Alecia put in before her son could even open his mouth.
“Lady Alecia, where is Clio?” There was something about Miles’s tone that made the entire chapel go very still.
“She is with Captain Black. It seems that she managed to antagonize him and he wanted her dead. He offered to relieve me of a three-thousand-pound gambling debt in exchange for my promise not to undertake an inquiry when her mangled body was found.” Noticing Miles’s expression, she added, “Oh, he did not use the word mangled. I did. I suggested it. I said I would only take the offer if her body was mangled. She mangled enough of my plans in her lifetime.”
“You traded Clio for three thousand pounds?” Miles asked with horror.
“And her hair,” Mariana corrected. “Grandmother made them promise not to do anything to harm her hair. I overheard her.”
Lady Alecia smiled and patted Mariana on the arm. “She is quite right. I have always had a fancy for Clio’s hair. It is a pity I could not have it today. I really had hoped to wear it for the wedding.”
Miles was assailed by a wave of queasiness. He forced it aside. “Where did Captain Black take Clio?”
“I don’t know. I have never met the man, only his representative. That charming man, Justin. He used to whistle outside my window to give me messages,” she explained. Comprehension dawned on Sir Edwin’s face, but before he could give voice to it, Lady Alecia went on. “You really cannot blame me, Viscount. It is Clio’s fault that she upset a man as powerful as Captain Black. He was going to kill her anyway. I just chose to profit from it.”
“I knew Clio would find a way to ruin my birthday,” Mariana put in then. “I am sure she upset that man on purpose just to make sure she had all the intention.”
“Attention,” Lady Alecia corrected.
If he had not had something better to do, it was likely that at that moment Miles would have been guilty of murder. Instead, he turned on his heel and began marching out the way he had marched in. Sir Edwin called after him and Miles turned to see what he wanted, but the man was too busy being chastened by Lady Alecia to say anything. When Miles turned back, the chapel door was blocked by Inigo.
He stood with his hands on his hips, glaring with all the power in his twelve-year-old-boy frame at Miles.
“What is wrong?” Miles demanded.
From behind Miles, a voice said, “He thinks you are the one responsible for sending Clio to Captain Black’s and he wants to make you pay for it. He has come to challenge you to a duel and wants to know whether you prefer pistols or swords.”
Inigo began to nod, and Miles turned to look at Sebastian. His cousin had often demonstrated an amazing ability to decipher codes and understand languages, but never to make sense of silence. “How did you know that?”
“I am not sure. I can just tell. Apparently he followed Clio from here last night—don’t worry, I won’t tell her,” Sebastian paused to address the boy, “and saw her taken to Captain Black’s. Then, this morning he saw someone in Dearbourn livery go there to make sure she had been captured. I think you should explain that you did not do it, and that, if he leads us to Clio, you will rescue her.”
Inigo’s posture relaxed and he looked inquiringly at Miles.
“It’s true,” Miles told him. “I did not send that servant. Where is she?”
Inigo looked at Sebastian, who frowned for a moment. “Captain Black has her in his house on London Bridge. The large house in the center. There are guards and dogs. Big guards.” His eyebrows shot up. “Very big guards. And lots of dogs. Oh, and pirates.”
“Excellent,” Tristan commented. “I haven’t seen a pirate in ages.”
“Do you hear that, Clio?” an oily voice inquired from Clio’s right. Her blindfold prevented her from seeing the pasty face and the pointed red beard of the speaker, and from being blinded by the bright scarlet sash covered in golden medallions he always wore. It also kept her from having to look at the multitude of animals, stuffed and attached to boards, that hung on every inch of wall space in the tower room—every space apart from the empty one reserved especially for Toast—but she could picture all of it well enough. Captain Black and his collection made an indelible impression on the memory. “You hear those bells?” he asked again. “I left the window open especially so you would be able to hear. Those are your cousin’s wedding bells. Perhaps you thought the wedding was not going to take place? The bells would not be ringing if Dearbourn had not gone through with it.”
“How interesting,” Clio remarked. “I thought you were going to kill me. I do wish you would hurry. I feel as though I have spent the past twenty-four hours waiting for someone to kill me and it is getting tedious.”
“Perhaps it would be less tedious if I removed your blindfold. That way you could watch as I run you through with my sword.”
After the careful machinations of Saunders, Captain Black seemed positively pedestrian as a villain. “I’ve never been run through with a sword before, so I would not know. Do whatever you think is best.”
Captain Black frowned. He did not like Clio Thornton. He had expended a great deal of time, money, and manpower trying to capture her and her monkey, consoling himself for each new expenditure with the assurance that killing her would be a pleasure. It had been her idea, after all. The words “only if I were dead” with regard to his possession of that delightful little specimen Toast who was now furiously jumping around in his cage and would soon grace the wall behind his desk, had been spoken from her own lips. The least he could do, Captain Black had told himself as he waited for her to be brought in, was oblige her. He had looked forward to this moment with relish. But it was proving to be far less interesting than he had planned.
Frankly, he was hoping for a bit more of a reaction from the girl. Killing people was what he loved to do, it was how he had gotten his start years earlier, and now, what with the constraints of running all his nefarious businesses, he rarely got a chance to take a life with his own hands. When the opportunities are scarce, you must enjoy them to their utmost, he knew, and decided that for this to be enjoyable, he needed Clio to grovel.
“You know it is your monkey I am interested in, not you. And I owe you something for getting the vampire. He killed one of my best operatives.”
“Lady Starrat,” Clio said.
“Yes. Damn shame. Perhaps if you beg for mercy, I shall grant you your life,” he suggested.
“I doubt
it,” Clio replied. She could not see what it would benefit her anyway. Without Miles, without Toast, what good was her life? Although, perhaps if she lived, one day someone would kill her just for herself, on her own merits, rather than to get revenge on someone else.
Captain Black decided to try a new tactic. “The less cooperative you are, the more painful I shall make this.”
“I am not sure how much more cooperative I could be. I am just sitting here, in this chair. I have put up no fight at all,” Clio pointed out. “Are you asking me to run myself through with the sword? If that is what you want, you shall have to untie me. I read in a book once that stabbing yourself through the heart requires both hands.”
“This is nothing to jest about,” Captain Black insisted.
“I was not jesting. The book really said that. It also had some very useful tips on skinning rabbits.”
“If you are trying to delay until Dearbourn comes to save you, you delay in vain. Even if he were to come, which he will not, I have an entire kennel of dogs outside to alert me of his presence, and a dozen guards. There is no way he could reach you before you died.”
“I do not expect him to come. Weren’t those his wedding bells we just heard? It would hardly be suitable for a bridegroom to leave the side of his bride.”
“Good. I am glad you understand. Now, prepare yourself to die.”
In his cage in the corner of the room, Toast gave a low keening sob, and Clio felt a sharp pang of sadness. Yesterday Toast had helped save her life and today there was nothing she could do to save his. She could not believe that after everything, her life had come down to this, this horrible man, this inconsequential ending. Clio had never felt she needed rescuing before, but she realized that she had indeed been listening for the barking of dogs, for the noise of a scuffle on the stairs. For the sound of someone who cared about her coming to her aid. But there was no noise. No sound. Nobody.
“Good-bye, Clio Thornton,” Captain Black said, and she could sense him hoisting up his sword as clearly as if she could see it, could sense him getting ready to rush toward her. Could sense him hesitating, turning around, gasping in surprise. Could sense him backing up, raising his sword, but at a different adversary now.
“How did you get in?” Captain Black demanded, and Clio could tell from the way he was huffing that he was dodging thrusts from a rapier as he spoke.
“I let myself in the back way,” Miles explained. His voice was smiling.
“But the kennels—” Captain Black panted.
Swords clanged against each other. “One of my cousins is a marvel with dogs.”
“Dearbourn, listen,” Captain Black began. His voice was oily again and Clio had the feeling that he was waiting for something.
The door of the room thudded open then, confirming her suspicion. “Ha!” Captain Black shouted. “Get him boys.”
The swish of two knives being thrown with absolute precision was followed by the obscene curses of two guardsmen and the fleeing footfalls of two others.
“Are there any more coming?” Miles asked. “If there are, I shall have to call in my cousins. They would never forgive me if I got to have all the fun.”
“I will take you myself,” Captain Black growled, and blade clashed with blade again. The two men fought, Clio following their strokes around the room by sound. Captain Black was known as a very capable swordsman, but she thought she sensed he was growing tired. Or was it Miles? It was a strange and unnerving experience to sit in the middle of a battle and be entirely impotent, and Clio decided she did not like it. Nor was she thrilled about having her wrists bound for the third time in two days. In the future, she decided, she would carry a knife up her sleeve for such emergencies.
The future. If Miles was here—
Clio felt something brush against her legs. A sword clanked onto the stone floor, a breeze blew past her cheek, and then she heard someone screaming in fear, a scream that moved farther and farther away.
“Miles,” she whispered. “Miles?”
There was no answer. Then, close by, a body shifted.
“Miles?” she asked, hesitantly. “Who is there? Who are you?”
The body shifted again. “Clio,” Miles said, his voice weak. “Clio, Clio are you all right?”
Clumsy hands struggled with her blindfold and then Clio could see again. “My God, what happened, Miles?” she demanded, trying to get out of the chair but finding she was still stuck.
Miles’s forehead was covered with blood, some of which had run down the front of his doublet. “Nothing serious,” he said, his voice stronger now. “He hit me over the head.” There was something about his tone that worried Clio.
“What is wrong?”
“He fell out the window and into the river. I had not meant to kill him.”
“He was a terrible man,” Clio said. “Look what he wanted to do to Toast. And that is not all. I am convinced that he was behind half the crime in London.”
“You are right. He was. Among other things. But I had hoped to keep him alive to ask him some questions.”
“Then you are Three.”
Miles looked at her. “How did you know that?”
“Your footmen are too well trained,” Clio answered simply. “It was obvious. By the way, Lady Starrat was working for Captain Black.”
“It would seem then, that in the space of two days you have managed to uncover not only a vampire, but also the largest traitor in England.”
“We managed to uncover them,” Clio corrected. She twisted against her bonds. “Would you be kind enough to untie me?”
Miles shook his head. “I want to ask you some questions, too.”
“In your official capacity?”
“Yes. In one of my official capacities.”
“Which one?”
“As your fiancé.”
“Miles, you must go through with your betrothal. You have no choice. The sacrifice is too great.”
“You mean the money.”
Clio looked confused. “No. I mean the honor. One day you will look at me and think of everything you gave up—your name, your family—and suddenly being with me will not be enough to compensate you.”
“It would always be enough.”
“You cannot know that. And I cannot let you ruin your life.”
“Ruining my life means not going through with the betrothal my father contracted for me?”
“Yes. You must do it.”
“Yes indeed, my boy, you must.” Sir Edwin spoke from the doorway. “I’ve got a suspicion you’ve already dishonored my daughter. If I were younger and you were less good with a sword, sir, I would challenge you.”
“I can assure you, Sir Edwin, I have not laid a hand on your daughter.”
“Ho ho, and I say, sir, that you are a liar.” Sir Edwin’s eyes sparkled and Clio wondered if he knew he was about to get himself killed.
“Uncle Edwin, I—”
“Not your uncle, Clio. No, no, no. Wanted to tell you that for ages. Not your uncle at all.”
“What are you talking about?” Clio and Miles demanded in unison.
“You do not know what you are. That’s what I—”
“Shut up, Edwin,” Lady Alecia commanded as she entered the room. “Before it is too late.”
But Sir Edwin shook his head. “Nope. I’m sorry mother, but I’ve been shutting up about this for almost as long as I can remember. But no more. Today—”
“Shut up!” Lady Alecia screamed, flying at her son with her hands outstretched. “Don’t say another word.”
Sir Edwin caught his mother’s hands in both of his and held them. His gaze on hers was loving, and a bit bemused. “Don’t worry, mother. Clio will understand. She is a good girl. She will understand what we did.” Then he looked at Miles who was quickly untying Clio’s hands lest she have to defend herself against her grandmother. “Maybe you understand already. You see, Clio is really my daughter. Lady Clio Nonesuch. Mariana was my sister’s daughter with
that man Thornton. They were born only a week apart, and my mother thought it would be best for Mariana to be the one to marry you so we switched them. She never did like my wife, you see. I think she fancied having her daughter’s daughter be a viscountess.” His eyes moved to Clio. “I tried to let you know about it in my own way, but you did not understand.”
“Your own way. Then it was you who sent me the note and asked me to meet you at Saint Paul’s,” Clio said.
“Yes. Wanted you to know what you really are, you see, but I was afraid to tell you directly. I did not want to upset mother. When you did not figure it out from my note, I tried to talk to you in the crypt, at the place where I first met your mother, but there was someone else there so I could not.”
“If Clio is your daughter,” Miles put in, in a tone that made clear he had been thinking very hard, “then all along, it is Clio I have really been betrothed to.”
“Yes. Mother said it was better the other way. She said Mariana would be a better wife for you. And mother always was right before. But not this time.” He smiled down at his mother. “Just one time for not being right isn’t too bad, mother.”
Lady Alecia wrenched her hands from his and stepped away to level the full force of her glare at him. “You fool. You are a bloody fool. Just like your Clio. You are all fools.” From her sleeve she brought out a pistol. “You, Clio,” she said advancing with the weapon outstretched. “You have caused trouble for the last time.”
“It’s all right, grandmother,” Mariana said, coming into the room then. “You do not need to kill her. I’ll be just as happy with the other birthday. I always felt older and more wisedomful than poor, dear CI—”
“Shut up,” Lady Alecia commanded, elbowing her aside. She pointed the pistol directly at Clio’s heart and her fingers closed over the trigger.
Time stood still. In the space of a heartbeat, the puppy entered the room, brushing against Mariana’s ankle as he made straight for Toast’s cage. Mariana shrieked and leaped away, careening into Lady Alecia just hard enough to cause her to lose her footing. As she flew through the air, the pistol fired, sending the ball of gunpowder into the stomach of a perfectly innocent but long dead rabbit hanging on the wall behind Clio’s head. Then time started up again and Lady Alecia was wailing and Toast was chattering and Mariana had fainted, twice, and Sir Edwin was staring about with a smile on his face and the Arboretti had run in and Clio felt Miles scoop her up into his arms and carry her out.
Lady Killer Page 35
