“My mother believes that I was attacked but feels that I am a weak minded fool who is blinded by a pretty face and my brother,” She stopped pacing and turned back towards Jane who took a step back at the sheer fury she saw in Melissa’s eyes. “My brother is beating him senseless because he also believes me love struck and foolish. No one is listening to a word I say and I know he didn’t do it.” Melissa drew in a deep shuddering breath and sank into a nearby chair.
“And you,” She whispered softly, the rage draining slowly from her as she spoke, “You who know me better than anyone, believe that I am wrong.” She stopped speaking and leant forward, sinking her head into her cupped hands. Silence built between them and Jane shifted uncomfortably on her feet. Melissa was not crying, she could see that, but she could tell from her rigid position that she was not very far from tears.
“Miss,” She began tremulously, her old voice soft and calming. It was a voice she had used to Melissa often as a young child.
“Just leave me alone,” Melissa’s muffled tones issued from behind her clasped hands. Jane stared for a long moment at her old charge and gave a curt nod, before she finally turned and left the room. Melissa heard her footsteps echo away down the stairs and she stood up and turned back to the window.
Marcus and Justin now stood before the open stable doors. Her brother’s back was to the house and she had a clear view of the horrendous injuries that covered Justin’s face. Once again a sense of unease, of wrongness shuddered through her. Taking a fortifying breath of air, she watched her brother berate Justin, who stood stoic and unspeaking throughout it all.
“Why Marcus?” Melissa’s voice was a long drawn out moan of despair as she watched him seize Justin’s bruised and unsteady form and face him away from the estate. As Justin took his first faltering step, Marcus shoved him forward, nearly throwing him back to the floor. Justin staggered and picked up the pace, running with limping ragged steps across the gravel drive and towards the park. Melissa watched as the grooms, laughing and joking, headed back into the stables and her brother finally walked back towards the house.
Melissa turned away from the window and sat in the chair, composing her face in a hard mask as she waited for her brother’s footsteps to ascend the stairs and reach her. She didn’t have long to wait. In no time at all, Marcus made his way into the parlour where he stopped at the sight of Melissa’s stony face. He lowered his gaze as she stared at him.
“You saw?”
Melissa nodded, her eyes accusatory and fixed on her brother. “How could you?” Her voice was low, the anger in her too extreme for shouts. Marcus shuffled his feet and did not answer.
“Well talk to me?” Melissa’s voice was brittle as glass and he could feel the contained fury that she held within. “I’m sure you have something to say after you battered an innocent man.”
Marcus opened his mouth, closed it again and slowly shook his head. Melissa got to her feet, her eyes flashed dangerously and her face grew livid with rage.
“I never would have thought it of you,” She hissed at him, anger fuelling every word. “After everything I said to you this morning, you still went out there and…” Her voice stammered to a halt, strangled for the moment by her seething emotions.
Marcus just watched her, his face impassive as the silence lengthened between them. He wanted to say something, but he had given his word, Justin had been willing to take that beating for her honour and he couldn’t renege on his oath. Yet he wished he could take what he had done back, regardless of the circumstances, he had still beaten a helpless man into a pulp. It was not something he was proud of and Melly, he stared at her raging face and wished he could say something, anything to her, but anything he could say would be inadequate and so he stood there, taking her rage and pain.
“You’re not the person I thought you were,” Melissa uttered finally before sweeping past him and heading out onto the landing. Marcus watched her go, following the hem of her mint coloured day dress as it brushed through the doorway and out of sight. With a heartfelt sigh, he sank into the chair that his sister had just vacated and he rubbed his bruised hands across his eyes.
“I’m so sorry Melly,” He whispered, the words barely audible in the empty room, “but he asked me to,”
Melissa ran to her room and threw open the door, the shutters were still closed, yet the glass had been swept up and fresh sheets now adorned her bed. Pushing the door shut, she threw herself onto her bed and sank her face into the pillow. Her eyes remained dry as she breathed in the scent of rose water and down. Swallowing back the tears that she so wished to shed, she forced herself to remember the events of that morning. Her father striking her across the face, her mother’s disapproval and Marcus, she balled up her fists and punched the pillow, Marcus as he slammed his fist into Justin’s face. She had been watching from the moment Marcus had headed outside, she had seen him enter the stable and stay there for some time. Hope had found a place in her thoughts as the doors opened and they spilled out of the darkness together into the grey early morning light. Justin was badly wounded, a state that triggered a sense of outrage and also vague unease. She had known that he had been hurt yet she had not known how badly, but a glance at his swollen face had tugged at her heart. For the briefest of moments she had thought that Marcus had mending relations with Justin, yet that forlorn hope had been banished as Marcus turned and punched the other man. She had watched as his fists slammed into an already damaged body and face and she cried aloud as fresh blood spattered his shirt. She clenched her fist around the down filled pillow and tried to focus away from his wounds. How could Marcus have done this, after all she had said? It was not like her brother at all, she knew that he had attacked Justin the night before and that she could understand. He had thought that Justin had been her assailant, but this, she drew a deep breath and forced away the tears that seemed so present, crying would not help. What had Marcus and Justin been talking about for Marcus to attack like that, what had Justin said? She closed her eyes as thoughts of the night before settled into her mind.
“You have to leave me here.”
Justin’s words echoed once more through her thoughts and her eyes snapped open, appalled by the revelation that accompanied the memory.
“You made him,” She whispered to her pillow, the voice muffled by the soft down and cotton. “Dear Lord, you said enough to force his hand, why?” Even though she could attain no answer, she pushed herself upright and sat up. “Damn my reputation Lestrade, I don’t want to be protected at the expense of your skin,” Once more, visions of his bruised, bloody form paraded though her mind. “As if you weren’t damaged enough, you had to goad him into brutality.” She stopped and stood up, the vague sense of unease that had followed her since she first seen him leave the stable, now returned with a vengeance. Her thoughts drifted back to a single event, one that had changed her perception of the world. She recalled his hand picking up his hat, the shears slicing into the ball of his thumb and the wound closing as she watched.
“Why is he still wounded?” It came to her then, in one solid flash, what had bothered her as he had walked free from the stable. Blinded by the rage that had accompanied Marcus’ first blow, she had failed to notice that Justin was still injured from the night before. He was covered with injuries that shouldn’t still be there, injuries that the enamel lotus was supposed to heal. Yet the lotus was not fastened to his neck, and had not been since last night. Marcus had not mentioned taking his jewellery and she wondered if the grooms had removed the enamel bloom. She shook her head, dismissing that thought, if the grooms had removed one piece of jewellery, they would have not stopped there. Justin was wearing several pieces of expensive decoration and from what she could see from the window, he was still in possession of most of them. Someone who knew about the blossom had torn it from his shirt and now held it hostage. She had read enough of Justin’s notes to understand that his wounds would not heal, that he would be in agony from his injuries until he received
the brooch back. She recalled what Justin had said about John, if he had taken the brooch, he would be sure to keep it on him in order to prolong Justin’s suffering. He would also mingle more fully with society as Justin would not now be admitted to certain functions thanks to this morning’s work. John could hide out at the Palace for the next six months and Justin would suffer. Coming to a decision, Melissa yanked at the bell pull beside the door, summoning Jane to her room in a flurry of action.
“Yes Miss,” Jane cautiously entered the room and stared at the animated features of her mistress with shock. The maid servant had been expecting tears and anger, not this cool eyed, determined young woman that now stood before her. “You rang?”
“I did yes,” Melissa replied coolly, witnessing Jane’s surprise but paying little attention to it. “I understand there is a party at Lady Hawthorn’s this evening,”
“Yes Miss, it’s one of the largest parties of the season.”
“Very good,” Melissa replied, turning to replace her soiled handkerchief within the sleeve of her gown. “Could you also tell me if a Lord Tarlington will be there?”
“I believe so Miss, I don’t know the full guest list, but I believe he is due to attend.”
“Good,” Melissa turned back to face her old nurse. “Then make me ready, for I will be attending.”
“But Miss, your parents,”
“I’m certain my parents would be happy that I am forgetting Lestrade and attempting to re-enter the marriage mart. I feel certain that one or both of them will accompany me. Certainly my father owes me a debt for this,” Melissa pointed at her cheek and sneered lightly. “After all, they want me to find a good match and I can’t do that locked up here. Tell them for me and then arrange for my clothes,” And with that, Melissa pointed at the door and turned away from her maid, dismissing her with a single look.
Chapter 35:
Justin crossed the threshold of his home and he slumped to the floor, finally unable to stand upright. His ribs felt broken and he was quite convinced that at least one had splintered. He coughed once and a small amount of blood smeared across the back of his hand.
"Wonderful," He murmured, looking at the bright bloom of blood with a sneer. "That's just what I want, a pierced lung." Taking a deep breath, he reached up and began to pull himself upright. It was hard going; his body did not want to cooperate. The pain of the beating and residual damage from a night chained to a wall ensured that he could barely move. After the third failed attempt to stand, he sat back and shouted.
"Coll!" His broken scream echoed through the halls of the ruined mansion and he waited, pain wracking his body, for his servant to arrive.
"Sir?" After what seemed like an eternity, Coll appeared at the top of the steps, he took one look at his master sprawled across the stones of the hallway before he raced downstairs. "Are you alright?" He wrapped his arms about Justin and pulled him to his feet. "What the devil happened?" He grunted as he guided his young master into the parlour and laid him on the chaise longue.
"John happened." Justin replied tersely, tiredness and pain making him short tempered. "Where's my brother?"
"Your brother has not returned since yesterday." Coll replied as he stoked up the fire.
"Typical." Justin felt his eyelids begin to droop with the onset of unconsciousness. "Very well, go to London and visit 18 Swan Street. Tell Emily that I want her here."
Coll nodded and began to stand. Justin's fingers snaked out and grabbed his servant by the wrist. "As fast as you possibly can Coll and don't take no for an answer. Tell her that John has stolen my brooch."
He heard his manservant rush down the hallway and leave the house. He tried to move unto his side, but the pain in his chest prevented all movement. Wincing at the pain, he opened his eyes and stared around the room. It was so different from in his childhood, the furniture was heavier, the drapes missing from the walls and the rushes missing from the floor. He had to admit that in some cases, this curse was delightful; he could never have imagined the progress he had seen. He only had to walk through the houses to see just how things had changed. A snort escaped his lips at the thought of owing this curse something when it already took so much of his soul. These injuries he had sustained would not heal unless he found his brooch and another vessel. Giving up on moving, he settled back against the cushions and closed his eyes. In the quiet, his mind ranged back to the night’s events. He hadn’t anticipated Melissa sneaking down to the stables to talk to him, a bold move and one he appreciated, despite how the conversation had gone. He supposed he could not blame her for the reaction, his secrets had endangered her and he hadn’t seen fit to warn her of them. Wincing at the pain in his chest, he shifted into another position and tried again to settle down. Drifting towards sleep, he thought back to his conversation with Marcus. Remembering what he had been told about Melissa, he dared to hope that she had forgiven him. It was the last thing he thought before sleep finally claimed him.
“Justin!” He jolted awake at the voice and looked up in to a pair of bright blue eyes. Emily was standing over him, concern etched on her face. “What the devil happened to you?”
He would have chuckled at her startled concern, but it hurt far too much. “I sent the message with Coll, John stole my brooch.”
An exasperated tut escaped her lips as she took in the bruises, livid on his face. “Did John do this to you?”
“No as a matter of fact,” He coughed, tasting blood. “It was Marcus De Vire and his grooms.”
“Why would?” She stopped her question and stared down at him with a wry smile. “Oh of course.” The light of revelation flooded into her face. “You couldn’t leave her alone after all.” Dipping a cloth into a basin, she began to cleanse the blood from his face.
“It wasn’t quite like that.” He protested, closing his eyes as her fingers tenderly dealt with the damage done to his face.”
“Then what was it like?” She rinsed out the cloth and returned to his wounds, slowly and softly daubing the bruises and cuts in cool water.
“John found her.” Her fingers stopped moving and she stared down at him, a mixture of pity and smugness in her features.
“I told you to take her with you.” She dampened the cloth once more and returned to his face, rinsing the blood from his handsome features. “I did say that John was going to find her.”
“Yes you’re extremely clever,” Sardonic tones flowed out from between his bloodied lips. Emily being right was not a pleasurable experience.
“Don’t get like that darling,” She whispered as her fingers slid gently over his skin. “I am sorry for what has happened to her.”
“Did I say that she’s dead?” He glanced up at Emily and was gratified to see the shock in her features. “It appears she woke up and fought him off. I arrived after he’d thrown himself from her window.”
“You confronted him?” Her fingers left his face and began to check lower parts of his body for damage.
“Hmm.” He winced as her hands slid over angry bruises and she whispered an apology. “He then took my brooch and left me for De Vire.”
“And he naturally assumed that you were the intruder.” Emily gave a slight roll of her eyes as she undid his shirt and gave a small whistle at the damage. “Did De Vire do all this?”
“Well his grooms did some of it, I asked him to do the rest.”
“Why?” Delicately she began to sponge his chest, watching him cringe with a worried expression.
“If John feels I have been banished he may leave Melissa alone.”
“Hmm,” She didn’t answer as she continued to sponge down his body. The water in the bowl became redder and redder as she continually washed out the soft rag. Concentrating on his bruises, Emily ceased conversation and Justin saw no need to speak. Eventually her fingers stilled on his skin and she drew the blanket up to his chin.
“There,”
“Thank you Emily,” He whispered, grateful that she had come to take care of him.
> “Think nothing of it,” She disposed of the bowl of water and turned back to face him. “So you’ve left her.”
“Yes, I’ve promised to leave the country.” He indicated his battered body with a sigh. “As soon as I can heal, I’ll be leaving for France. John is sure to follow me there.”
“Well if that’s your decision,” Standing, she pulled a short cape about her shoulders. “I’ll talk to Katherine and see if we can get your brooch back. Stay here and get some sleep.” With a slight smile on her lips, she turned to face the door.
“Em,” She turned back to face him, “I mean it, thank you.”
“I’m glad you called me,” She smiled at him as she turned to leave the room.
Chapter 36:
“She won’t hate you forever,” Lydia De Vire stated to her son as they sat within the parlour. The remains of a late lunch lay on the tables nearby as Lydia finished off some embroidery.
“Are you sure?” Marcus replied. His face was dark, brooding and not at all like his usual self. The events of that morning were burned into his mind and he wished that he could have taken it all back. “You didn’t see her face mother, I’ve done something unforgivable.” Standing suddenly, he began to pace the floor.
The Black Lotus (Night Flower) Page 31
