And by the looks of things, the way Lasseter moved through the secret parts of the club with ease and confidence, Nigel was Orpheus. The pieces of the puzzle began to snap into place. Nigel must have been using the wealth from the Templar cache he had stolen from Sheldon, and was now using the club as a cover. Clever bastard to recoup his expenses by creating an establishment that charged hefty dues to become a member. The risqué club was exactly the thing to attract the most bored in Society, which usually happened to be the richest.
The next piece that so easily fit was that Lasseter must have discovered the story of the Brethren Guardians, because he had unearthed the fact in Jerusalem, while excavating with Sheldon. And if Lasseter knew of them, then Sheldon must also.
Quietly, Iain moved forward, watched as Lasseter disappeared through another door, softly clicking it closed behind him.
“I wouldn’t, guv.” Iain heard the cocking of a gun at the back of his head, just as he was about to step into the room. “Slowly now,” the thick, Cockney voice said smoothly. “Turn slowly with yer paws up.” Iain slowly turned to face his captor. His eyes widened in shock when he saw a second man with a gun pointed to the temple of none other than the Earl of Sheldon.
Sheldon’s eyes went almost as round as his, but he quickly shielded them from the interested gazes of the guards.
“Now what the devil are ye two up to, wanderin’ Mr.
Lasseter’s halls?”
“What does it look like?” Sheldon demanded in a very strange, sotto effeminate voice. “We were to meet up in private. Obviously, we took a wrong turn somewhere.” Sheldon’s eyes sent Iain the message that he had better play along, or they were both going to have their brains blasted out of their skulls.
“Were ye now?” The guard holding Sheldon looked amused and disgusted all at once.
Damn Sheldon for this ruse. Iain would rather fight and get it over with. But he supposed the earl’s idea was satisfactory—for now. Iain wanted the element of surprise when he cornered Lasseter, and tussling with his guards wasn’t conducive to an ambush. He just hoped that Lasseter couldn’t hear the commotion. Not that Iain couldn’t handle himself, but he preferred not to in front of Sheldon. He still didn’t trust the bastard, and finding him here, in Orpheus’s club, only made him more suspicious.
“Is that right?” the guard asked, pressing the barrel of the pistol into his flesh. “You have an assignation with this bloke?”
Iain cleared his throat. “Yes, an assignation.” No point beating about the bush. He did warn Sheldon that he didn’t insinuate, he stated. “You understand the circumstances, don’t you?”
The man with the gun poised between Iain’s eyebrows sneered. “Can’t says I do, guv. Unnatural, them urges.
But yer kind seems to have them enough.” Iain shrugged. “All that paddling from the school-masters. Changes a man.” He swore he heard Sheldon chuckle.
“Yeah, well, two big blokes like ye should be givin’it to the ladies.”
“Yes, well,” Sheldon interjected in his ridiculous voice,
“we prefer the company of each other. Perhaps you might show us a back way out? As you said, quite unnatural, our relationship, and against the law, as a matter of fact.”
“No’ to mention the fact that my wife is in the main room. She has no idea of my…inclinations,” Iain provided.
“Is she now? Poor miss, I should take her in hand.”
“Crawley,” the other guard—the nervous one—warned as he eyed Iain’s height and the breadth. “No need for offence.”
“Yer right. I could have a bit of skirt and muff whenever. But what these blokes ’ave, well, that don’t come too easy now, does it? How much for our silence and yer safe removal?” Iain’s guard demanded with cunning eyes.
The other guard motioned with his head to the chamber behind Iain. “We should take ’em to Lasseter.”
“They’re two flash boys bent on a bit of buggery. What the devil would Lasseter do with them, besides watch?” He chuckled. “Maybe you’d like that, eh? A third to yer party?”
“Ah, no,” Iain grunted, recognizing a chasm he did not want to explore.
“I’m rather shy,” Sheldon provided, seeing the same difficulty Iain did. “Doesn’t always work when I’m nervous, if you get my meaning?”
“Understand,” the man named Crawley leered. “Sometimes the mast just doesn’t want to rig up the flag.” This was becoming utterly ridiculous. “I have a hundred pounds on me now. Will that suffice?” Iain asked.
Crawley’s eyes lit with interest. “That’ll do.” After the transfer of money, the guard motioned both of them forward. “Hands on yer head, and follow my directions.”
Guns aimed at their vitals, the guards steered them down the long curving corridor, down a long flight of stairs to another door. Crawley fished in his pocket for a key ring and fitted an old-fashioned skeleton key into the lock. The door swung open and the cold night air swept in, raw and fierce in their faces.
“On ye go,” Crawley announced. “And don’t come back.”
The door slammed shut behind them, and Iain heard the key turning in the lock. They were in an alley, the same alley, he suspected, where Sutherland had witnessed Nigel Lasseter entering the Adelphi Theatre.
Turning his head, he studied Sheldon through the dim gaslight that filtered from the Strand. “I can beat the information I want out of you here, Sheldon, or we can take this someplace more civilized and a tad bit warmer.
Either way, you’re not leaving until I learn every damn secret you’re hiding.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
IAIN SAT BEHIND HIS DESK, a large snifter of Scotch—his second—in his hand. Sheldon sat across from him, eyes watchful, but certainly not afraid.
“Why the hell did you come up with that particular ruse?” Iain said irritably.
Sheldon smiled at the memory, no doubt having a good laugh at Iain’s expense. “What is it that concerns you, Alynwick—that your reputation might suffer? I doubt the guards knew your identity, unless, of course, you frequent that establishment regularly?” Iain glared at the man, but Sheldon waved aside his ire. “I see you are in no mood for jests.”
“What was your first clue?” he growled.
“Well, it seemed to me to be the most expedient way of incurring their disgust and getting us out of their sight.
Plausible as well, considering what I saw in that main room.”
“Are you?”
“Am I what?”
“One of…those,” Iain muttered.
“Hell no!” Sheldon declared. “I’m a hot-blooded male who spends it on women, thank you very much.”
“Not on Elizabeth,” Iain said, staring down the earl.
Seeing that Sheldon understood his point, he relaxed a measure. “The question begged asking. You came up with the idea rather quickly, and your act was highly convincing. Done this sort of thing before, Sheldon?” The earl took a long swallow of Scotch, and Iain grinned when it made him cough. Aye, an effeminate, indeed.
“I suppose there’s no keeping anything from you now.”
“No, there’s not. So don’t bother to deny it. Your fate was sealed the second my eyes landed on you. I was going to have you, Sheldon, whether you desired it or not.” The man’s eyes lit with fury at the double entendre, which really was in poor taste, but which Iain found rather amusing, and still could not quite wrap his mind around. He’d played many parts over his lifetime, but never that of the aristocratic tosser.
“First and foremost, my lord,” the earl sneered, “let me make this understood. I quite adore women and have absolutely no designs nor interest in you. Or any other man, for that matter.”
“What a relief, Sheldon. Your act was so damn genuine that I began to wonder.”
“Well, don’t. No doubt that crafty mind of yours was already calculating that my interest in Elizabeth must be platonic, what with my proclivities, which naturally gives you the advantage.”
“It was leaning that way, yes.”
“Well, I hate to disappoint you. I am still very much interested in Elizabeth—in that way.”
“Bastard.”
Sheldon smiled, raising Iain’s ire. “But Sebastian de Montfort is a persona I frequently employ. He’s come in very useful over the years.”
“What?”
Reaching into his jacket pocket, Sheldon fished about, making Iain stiffen, wondering if the earl was going to pull a weapon on him. But instead, he tossed an object across the polished veneer of his desk.
“Detective Inspector Julian Wentworth.” Iain’s gaze flew to the silver crest of Scotland Yard, then back to Sheldon. Interesting… He had thought him many things, but never a detective. Iain didn’t know whether to be alarmed or relieved by the information.
“Did you suspect?”
Iain shook is head. He slid the badge back to Sheldon, who pocketed it once again.
“Good. Then no one knows, and I’d like to keep it that way, Alynwick.”
“Then you had better start speaking,” he suggested.
“I am all ears.”
Taking another drink of Scotch—this time a sip—
Sheldon finally sat back in his chair and contemplated Iain.
“You’ve been an admirable adversary, although it was never my intention to have you as one. Imagine my surprise when I discovered my study had been breached.
And that you were the culprit.”
“You’ve poor locks, Detective. A novice could have picked them.”
“No, they couldn’t have. And you’re not a novice. I knew that the moment you put your elbow to my throat.
You knew the most vulnerable spot on a man, and with one quick press you could have fractured the cartilage and eviscerated my larynx and trachea, killing me within seconds. I knew then that I had to find out more about you, and what complication you might be to me and my case.”
“The Scots can be savage when provoked, and you provoked me.”
“You took me by surprise, Alynwick, and I’m not eas- ily surprised. Ask my superiors, they’ll tell you. I’m thorough, methodical, meticulous and I can always outwit an enemy. But you… You have the brawn, brains and cunning of a jungle beast.”
“Thank you, but I’m still not letting you see my naked arse.”
Sheldon grinned and shook his head. “You won’t let me live that down, will you?”
“Never. That voice… God, it was like being in a salon with all those tosser artists.”
“How do you think I came by it? I studied them most carefully. I can also be a convincing Arab, with a little kohl and dye for my hair.”
“What are you doing in England? What is this case you speak of? Are you truly an earl, or are you yet again posing as someone you’re not?”
“A fair question. I am the legitimate earl, but as a son of a second son, I never expected to inherit. My father was a diplomat, but he was also high in Scotland Yard.
He trained me. I attended a special branch of the Yard at the embassy. Highly secret. I trust you won’t tell of it?”
“You have my word.”
Nodding, Sheldon plunged on. “I became a sort of spy for British and Arab affairs. As a cover, I became an archaeologist, which allowed me a large and varied contact with the Arabs. I had a great interest in archaeology, but it was always a cover for what I loved more, espionage.”
“Explains how you so easily dug up the skeletons in my family closet.”
“Partly. I had some help from Special Branch. Your father was on their watch list for decades, and they themselves had acquired quite a bit of information on him. I merely helped myself to it. I needed to see if you were in on Lasseter’s scheme.”
“And?”
“There’s no connection with you. But there was one with Black.”
Iain narrowed his gaze, senses alert. “What sort of connection?”
“Actually, it was with Lady Black.”
“You will tread very carefully, Detective. The lady is a good friend, and wife of a man whom I consider a brother.”
Damn, his tongue was getting loose, but he could not allow Black or his wife to be maligned. Damn Brethren Guardian secrets. He was tired of them.
“Lady Black, when she was Miss Fairmont, was being courted by Wendell Knighton, curator at the museum, and a protégé of Nigel Lasseter. It was Lasseter who funded Knighton’s expedition to the Holy Land, because Lasseter himself could not return, not after what he did to me. He feared that I might be alive, you see, after he left me for dead. He would never dare set foot in Jerusalem after that, so he needed someone to do the work for him. That’s where Knighton came in, a young man eager to make his mark not only on his profession, but the world. Lasseter could not have begged the devil for a better or more eager dupe.”
“And where is it you come in, Detective?”
“I was preparing to leave Jerusalem. By then, I had heard all I needed to know of Lasseter, and my revenge, while sanctioned by Scotland Yard, had become rather personal. When Knighton mysteriously died, I knew it was Lasseter. The man will kill whomever gets in his way.”
“In the way of what? What does he want?”
“I don’t know. I never could reason it out. While he pretended to be my friend, Lasseter kept his secrets close to his heart.”
“What has this to do with the House of Orpheus?”
“I didn’t know of the club until tonight—when I followed you. You see, the lady you were with, Marie Lalonde, was Lasseter’s lover and fugitive accomplice.
Naturally, when I saw you, I had to discover your connection to her.”
“Marie Lalonde? I’m sorry, Detective, but I’ve never met a woman by that name.”
“I believe she goes by the name of Georgiana Larabie.” Admiration lit Iain’s eyes. “I thank you, Sheldon.
You’ve saved me an evening of inconvenience, for I was planning on investigating the most duplicitous Georgiana myself.”
“Oh, she has raised your suspicions?”
“Indeed.” He’d known the bitch was hiding something, and here it was Nigel Lasseter all along, his enemy. Orpheus himself, the man she had promised to take him to. Obviously, he had played right into their hands. He’d been a fool, and it didn’t sit well with him—not at all.
“Might I ask how she raised your guard, my lord?”
“No.” Taking a sip of Scotch, Iain set the glass back onto the desk and thought through his plan. “I sense a breach of hostilities between us, Sheldon, at least temporarily.”
“Yes?”
“I can only give you my word of honour that what I was doing with Lady Larabie has nothing to do with her time spent in Jerusalem with Lasseter, or any crimes she committed in France. You’ll have to trust me that if I discover anything that might aid your case, then I will share it. Until then, I must keep my own counsel.”
“That’s fair, I suppose. Should I keep my own coun- sel tonight, and not share with Elizabeth whom I saw you depart with?”
He wanted to hate this man, but the bloody determination he saw in Sheldon’s gaze made Iain admire him instead. “I know how it looks, but nothing happened.
Elizabeth…” He swallowed hard, thinking of her, thinking of her with Sheldon. “I’d never do anything to harm her. Her…opinion of me at the moment is not very good, and while I will admit that I deserve it, I do not deserve to be labeled for something I didn’t do. I did not betray Elizabeth with Lady Larabie.”
“Fair enough. I believe you.”
Nodding, Iain motioned for Sheldon to continue. “Tell me about Lasseter, and your connection with him. I’m afraid your explanation has been somewhat convoluted and I am left rather confused by the whole matter.”
“Forgive me. I had assumed that you would know. I told Elizabeth the story of my connection to him.”
“And you thought she would spill your secrets? Detective, your opinion of her is rather low, is it not?” Sheldon had the grace to blush. “In my exp
erience, there are few true, honest people in this world.”
“In mine as well, but you will find that Elizabeth York is one of the few good ones out there. She is an angel, and can be trusted with a man’s life. The secrets of his soul.” Sheldon studied him in the gaslight, and Iain had the urge to hide in the shadows. But something shifted in Sheldon’s gaze. A perception. An understanding. He spoke no more of Elizabeth, but instead continued his story.
“My business with Nigel Lasseter, who is a French émigré and wanted for a string of robberies in France, began in Jerusalem nearly three years ago. He made his way to the Holy City, where I was working as an archae- ologist at Temple Mount. I was investigating a rebellion plot involving the Turks, while disguised on a British dig.
Lasseter befriended me. He was interested in excavating, and had a real obsession with the Templars. We struck up a friendship because I, too, have a genuine love of Templar lore. At that point I had no knowledge of his past.
We discussed at length the Templars, and their method-ology for hiding sacred relics, money and escape routes.
He was especially interested in those—in the Templar method of building underground crypts and tunnels.”
“Why?”
“I believe it was something I said that piqued his interest. I mistakenly informed him of how the Templars’preferred mode of hiding their cache was in their crypts.”
“Ah, I see. So he somehow persuaded you to allow him to assist you.”
“Worse,” Sheldon muttered, and Iain saw the anger and shame in his eyes. “I didn’t just allow him to assist, I showed him how to excavate. How to find the gems of the Templars.”
“And then?”
“I came across a cache. Lasseter wasn’t with me at the time, but I brought him later to show him what I’d found.
Along with the treasure there was a scroll outlining the story of three Templars. He became very excited about it. Almost…possessive, I would say. He waited for me to dig up the entire treasure, and when I did, he accosted me one evening in the tunnel, tried to stave my head in with an excavating pitch and leave me for dead. I fought him, and was winning until darling Marie came to save the day for Lasseter. She brained me with a large rock, and I fell to the ground. I’m sure they thought me dead.
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