The Black Lotus (Night Flower)

by Claire Warner

  WHORE

  STAY AWAY FROM JUSTIN

  The words screamed at her from the parchment, a warning striking into her brain like the sound of a fuller’s hammer. Melissa dropped the parchment; it fluttered to the bed like the broken wing of a dove. For a long moment all she could hear was the frantic drumming of her heart as she stared at the note.

  It were on your pillow Miss

  The maid’s words echoed through her mind as she read the words again. She knew she had not seen this the night before, which meant that either the maid had placed the letter or that someone in the night had slid it into her chambers. Either way, the implications were troubling. If the maid had been asked to deliver it, she would not have lied and said it were on her pillow. Unless. A chill ran down Melissa’s spine, unless this new girl had been planted to send her this? She shook her head in disbelief at the thought. It was troubling enough that someone was threatening her without adding further complications. Pushing aside the tray, she clambered out of bed and checked about the room. At the window, she spotted the small scuff marks where her visitor had entered and she sank onto the window seat sudden fear coursing through her body. What if her visitor hadn’t wanted to place a letter? What if? She remembered the tale of Honesty Malison, killed on her front porch and she lifted her hand to her mouth stifling a cry of horror. Her visitor the night before could have been the killer. Deep in thought, she gnawed on her knuckles as scenarios played endlessly through her mind. When had he entered? She felt slightly ill at the thought of him being so close to her as she slept.

  He had to have watched the house. She recalled the night before, the movement she had seen on the lawn before she went to bed. Had he been watching her then? Had he waited until she had left her window before making his move? Her eyes shifted over towards the bed, towards the parchment that lay in plain sight. She should tell her parents. They would be horrified at the thought of someone breaking into her room and they would certainly take steps to protect her. She pulled her hand away from her mouth and stared out of the window. Yes they would protect her but their protection would almost certainly involve total exile from society. Granted she could deal with a few weeks in the country, but that wasn’t all. The letter had warned her from Justin and her family would take that threat seriously. At the very least they would ban her from seeing Justin just on the threat from the letter. And though she could understand the reasoning, it didn’t seem right to her. She was still convinced that he was innocent. The very fact that Justin had been so close to all those murder victims felt set up to her. If Justin were a murderer, it made little sense that he would be so obvious about it. There was also the note she had received, Justin would not have sent such a threat. If someone were trying to frame Justin, they were doing a bang up job yet she didn’t think someone genuinely involved in murder would be so careless.

  No she couldn’t involve her family, they would help but they would also jump to the wrong conclusions and she wanted to make her own decisions about Lestrade. Removing her hand from her mouth, she leant back against the recess and stared at the edge of the shutter. Justin was not the only Lestrade she had to worry about. Was it a coincidence that on the very night Alistair had warned her about Justin she had received a threatening letter? Granted such an action seemed almost clumsy, threatening her twice in the same evening. She nibbled her nails thoughtfully, slipping into an old childish habit as she ran over the events at Lady Shearingham’s ball. Alistair hadn’t been the only one to warn her about Justin. Mary had practically struck her over him. Though she couldn’t imagine Mary having the gumption to leave her father’s house, cross several miles of country and climb to her window. Of course there was Montjoy. The nail on her index finger tore painfully as she shuddered, remembering her encounter with him on the road. He had been heading away from town towards his estates which were quite close to hers. Montjoy was supposed to be badly injured and yet there he had stood, seemingly unharmed. And what about the strange figure with him? She stopped chewing and stared at the hangnail. Something about that figure worried her. All swathed in that concealing cloak, he was unidentifiable. He could easily have traversed the boundaries and climbed into her room. Rubbing her temples she turned away from the window and stared at her room. Despite its familiarity, she felt cold looking at it; picturing the intruder stood over her while she slept. Perhaps she would suggest moving closer to town.

  Her musing was interrupted by footsteps along the hallway outside her room. They could only belong to Jane and in a panic she sprang upright and almost ran back across her room. Diving into bed, she managed to hide the letter just as the door opened. If she were keeping this from her parents, she would certainly hide it from Jane.

  “Are you feeling better Miss?” Her old nurse crossed the room and stoked up the fire, clucking a little at the small amount of mess left by the new maid.

  “Much better thank you Jane.” Melissa replied, pulling the plate towards her and starting to eat. Beneath her leg, the parchment crackled unpleasantly against her skin and she hoped that Jane did not hear it. “I was wondering about moving to our rooms in London. Do you think that mother and father would allow it?”

  “Well Miss, I think your mama and papa would wish to come with you.”

  “That is what I mean Jane.” Melissa answered, swallowing the cold breakfast with some difficulty. “I can’t be expected to travel there alone.” She shifted slightly, pushing the parchment further beneath her. “You see this is quite a distance to travel when attending court or other functions.” She explained, practising her speech before she had to try on her father. “It’s too far from here.”

  “Well that may be so, but you know your father doesn’t like the town.”

  “I know but it is my first season and I can’t be travelling to and fro all the time.” She stared straight at the maid and played her trump card. “How am I expected to find a husband if I am kept away from court?”

  Jane looked at her mistress and nodded. “That is true.” She agreed readily as she crossed to the bed and pulled back the sheet. Melissa gave a small sigh of relief as she realised that the note was out of sight. “However you won’t be travelling anywhere until these are healed.” Her calloused fingers indicated the bandaged puncture wounds. “The doctor has recommended bed rest.” She checked the bandages and dosed Melissa with another spoonful of Laudanum before removing the tray and heading for the door. “Get some sleep Miss.” She murmured as she left the room and shut the door behind her.

  Chapter 22:

  Melissa lounged indolently on a couch in the upper sitting room, a book propped open on the arm of the chair. On the small table opposite, the remains of a late luncheon was spread. Her nurse had finally allowed her to leave her bed that morning, under the condition that she moved into the upper parlour and lay under a coverlet. Agreeing with the restriction purely to leave her bed chamber, Melissa had spent the majority of the morning lying on the couch. It was dull and lonely. Her father was off making social calls and her mother was arranging for the entire household to move into their city lodgings. Jane was out on her morning off and Marcus was out with some friends. Melissa was thankful for their absence. With the house free of distractions, she could think clearly about the events of the last few days. When Jane had left the room, she had tossed the parchment onto the fire and watched the words burn. The flames had consigned it swiftly to ash, yet the threat was still impressed solidly on Melissa’s mind. In all honesty she knew that she should inform her parents about her late night visitor so that they could protect her. However she knew the trouble it would cause and though she was usually overburdened with sense, she didn’t want the suffocating attentions of worried parents. Sighing, she closed the book on her knee before reaching out for the last solitary pastry on the tray. Holding the crumbling pastry in her fingers, she stared across the room at the china knick knacks lining the shelves on the dresser opposite. Every night since, she had personally closed the shutters on her window
s and ensured that they were locked. This behaviour had drawn suspicious glances from Jane and she was sure that her maid had mentioned her suddenly cautious habits to her parents. At any day now she could expect a seemingly innocuous questioning about her disposition. Her fingers nervously shredded the pastry into crumbs. It would not do to have to answer that she had received a threatening letter about Justin Lestrade. Her parents would deduce that he had an interest. That interest, coupled with the beating he had received and her own botched debut would ensure that she never left the house.

  With a discontented sigh she pushed herself upright and paced nervously across the room. As the only daughter, she was to marry well and secure her future. Without the stability offered by a good marriage, she was doomed to a career as a spinster, living on the charity of her brother. Not for the first time, Melissa wished she had been born a boy and without the suffocating rules that ruled her life. Her brother would inherit the estate on her parents’ death and she would be left to his mercy and though Marcus would look after her, she didn’t wish to burden him. Even should her father lay a fair dowry on her marriage, any legacies, estates or monies would revert to her betrothed. Sighing, she sat down on the deep window seat and stared out across the estate. Despite all the negatives of marriage, staying single was not the better choice. If she failed to capture a husband in the five seasons, she would be considered past it and all she could hope for was a job as a governess or the charity of family. Tired with pacing, she settled down onto the deep cushioned window seat and stared out of the window onto the rolling lawns. The sitting room overlooked the front of the house and the main drive. On either side of the pebbled driveway, tall elms swayed in a delicate breeze framing the approach to the house. Beyond the drive, long lawns stretched down towards the ornamental lake and small copse behind that. Bored, Melissa leant forward and rested her chin on her hand, staring out at the familiar landscape. At the extreme edge of her vision something moved from the shade of the trees and moved swiftly across the lawns towards the house. Concerned that it was her visitor of three nights ago, Melissa shrank back against the shutter, watching as the figure came nearer. Her green eyes followed the shadowy outline, the nebulous fear in her mind dissolving as the figure morphed into a distinctive form. To her curious gaze, a lone rider tracked across the lawns, the bay chestnut loping easily at a steady canter as it and its master moved towards the house. Moving even closer, the figure became clearer; his features still blurred to her curious gaze yet a sense of familiarity tugged at her.

  “He can’t be my visitor.” She murmured softly to herself as she returned to the window watching more openly as the horse loped forward. “He would not be so open with his approach.” Her breath misted the window and she wiped it clear, gazing at the figure that became more familiar with each passing stride of the horse.

  “Justin.” She stood up from the window seat in a flurry of motion and rushed to the mirror. Beneath the light cotton bonnet, her hair hung in a tangle of strands.

  “Oh lud,” She swore aloud, attempting to push some of the more stubborn strands beneath the bonnet.

  “Rachel!” She shouted, calling for the new upstairs maid who seemed to have settled quite happily into the hierarchy and now handled her toilette on Jane’s days off.

  “Yes Miss.” The younger girl entered and bobbed a curtsey.

  “Do something with my hair.” Melissa ordered, pointing at the approximation of a birds nest on her head. “And make it snappy, I have a visitor,”

  “Yes Miss,” The maid bobbed and began to remove the pins from her head.

  Outside on the lawns, Justin rode easily across the springy grass towards the large demesne. He had returned from London that morning having finally obtained what he travelled to the capital to get. He had spent the morning ensuring that the stink of the slum did not follow him and then he had decided to take a ride. Much to his own surprise, he found himself riding for the De Vire estates and despite the small sarcastic voice informing him that he was almost certainly making a mistake, he had kept going. It hadn’t taken long to cross the boundary from his land to hers and now he rode through the crisp air with a light heart. It took several minutes to cross the vast lawns and clatter onto the pebbled drive. Pulling the horse to a halt, he swung down from the saddle and waited. Several moments passed as the grooms in the stables realised that they had a visitor. Without a second glance he handed the reins to one of the servants.

  “Is Miss De Vire at home?” He asked as the tall form of her butler walked from the house.

  “She is Milord.” The butler hid his distaste for Justin well as he showed him the way towards the main doors.

  Upstairs, Rachel finally finished tidying up her mistress’s hair as Justin walked through the main doors. The tread of footsteps on the stairs heralded the approach of the butler. Melissa shot a quick glance at the mirror, checking her appearance carefully before waving the girl away.

  “Miss.” The butler entered and bowed stiffly. “A Lord Lestrade is here to see you.” Hidden beneath the courteous tones, Melissa could hear his disapproval. “I’ve shown him into the morning room.”

  “Thank you.” She turned to the maid. “Can you please accompany me Rachel?” Melissa called as she stood and headed for the door, slight prickles of anticipation rippling down her spine. On light feet she moved down the heavy staircase, her fast footsteps revealing her eagerness. Stepping into the hall she bypassed the butler and slowed down.

  “And yourself Walker,” She called, remembering to ensure that there were sufficient chaperones. As the butler nodded, she turned right and walked into the morning room. Justin was stood before the window, lounging almost insolently against the frame. His face was in shade yet she fancied that his eyes lit up as she walked forward with measured gentle steps. Walker took up a position by the door, whilst her maid stationed herself by the window, with her face in shadow.

  “Miss De Vire.” He nodded before stepping forward to kiss her gently on the hand. Melissa felt the shiver of his breath against her skin and a warm tingling glow spread through her. Acutely aware of the nearness of the butler, she ruthlessly suppressed her emotions and acknowledged the kiss with mannered politeness.

  “My Lord Lestrade.” She stepped back away from him and lowered herself onto a chair, fighting the school girl grin of delight that was threatening to break out across her face.

  “What brings you here this morning?” Settling against the soft cushions, she felt calmer, more focused and able to deal with the unsettling sensuality that he exuded.

  “You.” Melissa could not suppress the tiny sigh of shock at this simple answer.

  “You came to see me?” She knew it was a trite and foolish response, yet she could not help herself. She wanted to be sure that she had heard the words correctly. Despite her earlier intention to treat him with caution, she felt elated at the thought that he had travelled purely to see her.

  “I did,” He raised his head and looked directly at her. “I wanted to tell you that…” Melissa felt herself straining forward in anticipation, surely he was about to launch into some impassioned declaration of love. A noise from the other side of the room drew her attention to the fact that they were not alone. Justin glanced at the company in the doorway and lamely finished his sentence with.

  “I wanted to see if you were well.” Disappointed, Melissa sank back into her chair, suddenly furious at the necessity for having a chaperone. Fervently wishing that a crisis in the kitchen would pull them away, she returned herself to the conversation.

  “I am tolerable.” She answered in the stilted speech that passed for polite converse. “You did not have to travel all this way to enquire about my health.”

  “I know.” Justin scuffed his toe against the carpet as though frustrated. He took another look across at the butler and an audible sigh escaped his lips. “But I wanted to.” He gave a small smile. “And I did promise to see you again.”

  Melissa’s heart gave a tiny flutt
er as that smile drifted across his face. Warm eyes, their depths no longer mocking, stared at her from across the room. “I try to keep my promises.” He finished as he sat in one of the chairs opposite, settling into a pose that seemed composed yet relaxed at the same time. A silence settled over the pair of them, neither wishing to break the quiet with banality. The quiet stretched for several long seconds. Melissa settled her hands delicately in her lap, stilling the telltale nervous twitch of her fingers. Her thoughts drifted back to that fateful carriage ride, the tender way he had helped her into the coach. However, thoughts of that evening inevitably drifted onward, toward her visit and the letter that followed. She swallowed nervously and tried to return her thoughts to the present.