Sins of a Virgin (Sinners Trio)

by Anna Randol

  “Just let it go,” she whispered.

  “I cannot.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I see what you refuse to see.”

  “And what is that?”

  “You—”

  The door opened and Campbell strode in. His gaze turned glacial when he spotted Madeline in Gabriel’s arms. “Einhern is ready to talk. Come, Madeline.”

  Gabriel dropped his arms and she fled to Campbell’s side. Gabriel watched her leave, an odd dissatisfaction burning in his chest.

  He wasn’t even sure what he would have said if he’d been allowed to finish. Something half-witted and trite. Anything that would have eased the emptiness and pain in her eyes.

  And he would have meant every damned word, heaven help him.

  He followed them to the study.

  Einhern sagged in one of the chairs as if he’d been deflated. His face was chalky, and when he raised a hand to his hair, it shook. But as Maddox had promised, except for the purple bruise on Einhern’s chin that Gabriel had put there himself, neither the room nor Einhern showed any signs of violence.

  “How did you discover Miss Valdan’s location?” Campbell asked.

  Einhern wiped a glistening smear of sweat from his upper lip. “I received an anonymous letter. It claimed to be from someone who was as bitter toward her as I am—was,” he amended with a frightened glance at Maddox. “They said this Madeline Valdan and the woman I had known as the Countess d’Moriet were one and the same. They sent me money, told me her location, and said the rest was up to me.”

  “Why did they contact you?” asked Gabriel. The whole thing was far too convenient.

  Einhern’s hands twisted in his nightshirt. “I may have voiced my opinion of her a time or two when I was drunk.” His voice was whiny, begging for pity, but his eyes traced Madeline’s body with sickening lust.

  Gabriel stepped between them, shielding Madeline. She’d had to endure the monster once before, she shouldn’t have to go through that again. “Yet you accepted the proposition. You tried to kill her three times.”

  “But I didn’t succeed, so no harm done really.”

  Gabriel’s fists tightened as he thought of Madeline’s nearly lifeless, blue-lipped body as he carried her from the river. Her whimpers as he stitched closed her wound. Her desperate motions to put out the fire. “Attempted murderers hang just as surely as the ones who manage not to bungle things.”

  “It’s not my fault things went wrong. My plans—”

  “You wouldn’t know a plan if it crawled into your bedroll.” Madeline stepped to Gabriel’s side, her eyes blazing.

  He should have known she would never cower. Even from a monster such as this. If it wouldn’t have ruined her performance, Gabriel would have kissed her.

  “That’s ridiculous, you—”

  Maddox coughed.

  “—you woman,” Einhern finished, his nostrils flaring.

  “Even a woman like me knows not to write a letter warning the person I’m about to attack.”

  Einhern’s brows lowered. “A letter? Did someone warn you? It was that imbecile Toole, wasn’t it? Or the man I hired at the theater?”

  “The note, you fool,” supplied Maddox.

  “I don’t know about any note—”

  “The one you left on my doorstep.”

  “I’ve never been to your house before.”

  Maddox cleared his throat.

  Einhern flinched, his breath wheezing in rapid puffs. “No need for that. I’ve been answering your questions.”

  “Yes, but I expected truthful answers.”

  “They are, I swear!”

  “Then what do you know about Paris?” Madeline asked.

  The man’s eyes widened, his surprise unfeigned. “Enough trickery! I won’t let you entrap me again. I know nothing of Paris. I dealt with you in Berlin.”

  “Curse it all.” Madeline’s dark words were barely audible. Her fingers clamped on Gabriel’s arm.

  Gabriel covered her fingers with his own. “Are you all right?”

  “He’s telling the truth. He’s too short to be the man who threatened me at the ball. And if he didn’t know about Paris, that means—”

  Gabriel didn’t need her to finish the sentence.

  Einhern wasn’t the only one who wanted her dead.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Madeline hadn’t meant to go to Gabriel’s mother’s house. She’d meant to send a polite and regretful excuse, explaining that obligations kept her away. Yet here she was, ensconced in the cozy parlor while Beatrice bustled about in her comfortable way, pouring tea and heaping a pile of biscuits onto Madeline’s plate and preparing a plate for the Runner outside who’d escorted her. Gabriel’s mother moved with the simplicity of a woman secure in her own home and her own skin.

  Madeline, for all her training, couldn’t withhold a longing sigh.

  “That came from the depth of your soul.”

  Madeline’s lips curved wearily. “I’m just tired.”

  Beatrice studied her. “From more than the auction, I should think.”

  Ah, it was so tempting to share everything, to unburden herself to another woman. But it had been far too long since she’d had any female friends, and she found herself uncertain how to go about it. Yet even if she knew, Madeline could hardly share the root of her problem—Gabriel.

  While she floundered for a response, Beatrice moved on to soothing chatter about the weather and the antics of her pupils, giving no indication she noted Madeline’s halfhearted responses. Madeline only had to chuckle at amusing stories, and let herself be distracted from the turmoil in her mind.

  The butler glided in a few moments later with a calling card on a silver tray.

  Beatrice glanced down at the card, her story cutting off abruptly. She lifted the card off the tray and ran her finger along the edge. “He’s early today.” She nodded at the butler. “I’m not at home, as usual.” She set the calling card on the table and hurried to the window, careful to stay to the side so she couldn’t be seen from below.

  Madeline glanced down at the card on the table. Her breath caught.

  The Marquess of Northgate.

  Even though she knew it was unbearably rude, she rose and stood next to Gabriel’s mother.

  “There. That tall man in blue.”

  Madeline couldn’t see Northgate’s face as he walked away, but there was power and grace in his movement, much like his son, but also a hesitance in his step as if he didn’t wish to leave. “Has he come here before? If he’s bothering you—”

  “No!” Beatrice grimaced ruefully and started again in a more subdued tone. “He isn’t bothering me. In fact, if I were a better person, I’d tell my butler to send him away for good rather than taking his calling card every day.”

  “Every day?”

  Beatrice walked back over to the settee and picked up a large lacquered box from the table next to it. Inside, in neat little rows, were hundreds of calling cards. “He has called on me every day since the proper mourning period for his wife ended.”

  “When was that?”

  “Almost one year ago.”

  “He’s come every day for a year and you haven’t allowed him entrance?”

  Beatrice nodded, picking the card back up, her lingering caress of the card speaking volumes. “As I said, I should tell him not to call. It would be easier for both of us, but I cannot bring myself to do so. Each afternoon I tell myself I will send him away once and for all, but every day I fail. Silly, is it not?”

  No. Far too familiar. “Do you know what he wants?”

  Beatrice placed the card neatly in the box and replaced the lid. “To claim me or see if that is a possibility.”

  “Is it?”

  “I—no. If I married him, everyone would know that he’s Gabriel’s father. The resemblance is too great. I forced Gabriel to be a bastard all his life. I won’t force him to publicly bear the title.”

  “You hardly forced hi
m to be a bastard.”

  Beatrice patted the couch next to her. “Come here and sit. I forget that you’ve only heard Gabriel’s version of the story.”

  Madeline complied, a guilty fascination refusing any other option.

  “I was a governess for the Marquess of Northgate’s brother. One summer Matthew came to visit. Although he was tall and handsome, I was too sensible to fall for him. After all, he was a marquess, and I only the governess. But it was summer and the weather fine so there was a constant supply of picnics and games. The children were of course invited with me as their governess. And although Matthew and I tried to ignore each other, we could not. No more than we could stop breathing. The marquess was already engaged, an arranged match to the daughter of a rich merchant. His family needed the money. His father had long since gambled the family deep into debt. We loved each other. Truly. Passionately.” She closed her eyes. “It was glorious. A time out of time.” She paused. “Perhaps I shouldn’t burden you with the details of all this.”

  Madeline couldn’t bear for her to stop. “Please, I want to know.”

  Beatrice smiled. “It does feel good to talk about him. Mrs. Huntford is an honorable widow, not a fallen governess. I can hardly share the details with my friends.”

  Madeline blinked, concentrating on swallowing the tea in her mouth. She’d forgotten Beatrice wasn’t truly Mrs. Huntford. That it was a role she’d chosen to protect herself and her family. She’d been playing that role for far longer than Madeline. Yet she was so sure of herself. Had she become used to pretending to be Mrs. Huntford or had she maintained her own personality despite the pretense?

  Beatrice continued. “The end of summer came and we agreed he had to keep his word and marry the other woman. Two weeks later, I discovered I was pregnant. By then it was less than a month until Matthew’s wedding. I didn’t tell him. Not until after, when it was too late for him to come after me.”

  “So instead he comes after you now.”

  Beatrice nodded.

  “Why won’t you see him?”

  “I could have married several times in the past years. To good men, wealthy men. I could have given so much more to Gabriel and Susan. But I couldn’t, not while I still loved Matthew. I deprived them of so much because of my stubbornness. Gabriel hates his father and I cannot convince him otherwise. I love my son. I cannot betray him like that.”

  Did Gabriel have any idea of his mother’s sacrifice for him? She suspected not. She saw the regard in which Gabriel held his mother. He wouldn’t want her to be miserable.

  Then again, she’d seen the way he reacted to the mere mention of his father. He wouldn’t believe the man’s intentions toward Beatrice were honorable. In fact, if they were honorable. Why had the man bid in the auction?

  “So it’s right to protect the people we . . . care for?” Madeline refused to ascribe any loftier name to the emotion she felt for Gabriel. She needed someone to tell her she was right to continue to push him away.

  “Mostly, yes. But sometimes—” Beatrice’s fingers coasted over the lid of the box. “Sometimes I wish I had been braver. That I’d thrown caution to the wind and married Matthew. We might have frozen to death in the crumbling ruin of a castle he owned, but we would have been together. Sometimes I wonder if by protecting everyone, I made things easier but not better.”

  That wasn’t the answer she’d been hoping for. “Yet you still protect Gabriel.”

  “I do, but I hope I won’t have to for much longer.”

  Madeline paused before taking a bite of lemon cake. “Why?”

  “You, my dear.”

  Madeline wished she’d taken a bite, so she’d have had an excuse for the choked sound issuing from her throat. “Pardon?”

  “When he’s around you, he has a fire I haven’t seen since Susan’s death. When Susan was murdered, it was as if Gabriel gave up living as well.”

  “I would hardly say Gabriel was pining away.”

  “No, but for a long time, he ceased living for anything but justice. It was as if he felt guilty moving on with his life, since Susan could not.”

  Madeline didn’t have the heart to tell her that Gabriel was interested in her for access to her bidders, not romance. And she still didn’t know what precisely he hoped to find.

  “What happened to Susan?” Madeline knew it was a rather bald question, but perhaps if she knew, it would help her make sense of Gabriel’s actions.

  Beatrice closed her eyes, pain slicing her expression.

  “Never mind. I shouldn’t have—”

  She opened her eyes. “No. If you want to understand Gabriel, you will have to understand this. Susan found a position as a governess with one of the families of the girls I teach. She had every other Sunday off. One Sunday while Gabriel was on holiday, she came to visit. She was bubbling with excitement. She said she’d met a man who was interested in her, and not just any man, but a titled gentleman.” Beatrice rubbed her arms as if chilled. “I think Gabriel saw too many similarities between mother and daughter for his liking.”

  “Gabriel loves you.”

  Beatrice smiled slightly. “Indeed he does. He loved us both, but he had no tolerance for another female in his life professing love for a man so far above her station. I do not doubt that he thought to protect her as someone should have protected me. Another fault to be laid at my door.” She picked up her tea and began to stir. “He told her the man was only toying with her affections. He ordered her to stay away from him. Susan wasn’t one to take direction well, especially from her twin, so she stormed off. One week later she was strangled.”

  Gabriel paused at the foot of the stairs to catch his breath. Madeline shouldn’t have ventured out without him. Someone was still trying to kill her.

  At least she’d had enough sense to bring Kent along for protection.

  To his mother’s house.

  Gabriel bounded up the stairs. There was no reason the thought of his mother and Madeline closeted away should fill him with such nervousness, but it did. What did they have to talk about? And why hadn’t Madeline told him she was planning to visit during their drive in the park this morning? He’d been forced to discover her whereabouts from her butler.

  He paused outside the door to the parlor.

  His mother’s voice was subdued, a far cry from her normal sunshine-laden tone. “They found her body laid out in a bed of a rented room.”

  The words hammered the air from Gabriel’s lungs.

  Susan.

  Madeline had come to wheedle the truth about her from his mother. Damn it, he’d told her it was none of her concern.

  Gabriel opened the door, startling both women. Anger heated his cheeks as he stared at Madeline, daring her to offer an explanation.

  She had the grace to flush.

  “Have you heard enough?” he asked. “Shall I tell you how she was laid neatly on the bed in a cheap rented room, her hands folded on her chest, her eyes closed? How her hair was plaited? How she was dressed in a new lawn night rail that wasn’t even hers? How the bastard pinned this damned brooch under the purple bruises at her throat?” He drew the brooch out of his pocket. It fell from his fingers and clattered on the table

  The newly blossomed color wilted on Madeline’s cheeks, leaving them ashen. “Gabriel, stop.”

  “You came here to find out the tawdry details, did you not?”

  “Gabriel!” This time the reproach in Madeline’s voice punctured his tirade. He followed her agonized gaze to where his mother sat, her hand shaking so badly tea sloshed on her skirts.

  His rage immediately extinguished, leaving only acute shame. “Mother.” He took her cup from her fingers and gently placed it on the table. Then Gabriel knelt beside his mother, chafing her cold, trembling hand. “Forgive me. My behavior was inexcusable.”

  She patted him on the cheek. “Susan’s story isn’t yours alone. You may have lost your sister, but I lost my child. And neither did Madeline deserve to have her head bitten off for ask
ing.”

  Gabriel exhaled slowly. Madeline knew he didn’t want her interference. But he stood and bowed. He would do anything to soothe his mother’s anguish.

  Madeline’s gaze didn’t waver from the pin on the table, but she inclined her head in acknowledgment.

  His mother rose. “You have to stop letting Susan’s death rule you.”

  What was his other option? Let Susan’s death go unsolved?

  For the first time since her death, the burden of the case threatened to crush him. Her death had always weighed on him, but now it dragged him down like an anchor lashed to his leg. What would it feel like to not have it drowning him every moment?

  Not every moment, he realized with a start. Several times in the past week, Madeline had banished all thoughts save those of her from his mind. She had the power to make him forget everything with the infinite pleasure of her touch, and more disturbingly, her company, but did he want to allow her that power over him?

  No. How could he even consider such a thing? Another girl had been murdered. Both women deserved justice. The killer had to be stopped.

  His mother shook her head in resignation. “It isn’t wrong to let yourself have some peace. Contrary to what you think, I think your sister already has hers.”

  Gabriel could do nothing more than nod woodenly.

  “I need to lie down.” His mother paused by Madeline’s chair and squeezed her shoulder. “I still stand by what I said, as much as he might try to prove me wrong. A week ago, he would have stormed out at my suggestion.”

  On that pointedly vague comment, his mother left, shutting the door silently behind her.

  Madeline’s hand shot out as soon as the door closed, grabbing the brooch. “Why was your sister in Paris?”

  “Paris?” What the devil? “Susan was never in Paris.”

  “I saw this same brooch pinned to a dead girl in Paris two years ago.” Twisting the brooch in her hands, Madeline held it up to the light. Her fingers traced the lock of his sister’s hair sealed under glass in the center. “No, not quite the same. The brooch in Paris held blond hair.” Madeline stared at him, her gaze intent.

  “What did you see in Paris?” Every muscle in his body tensed as he awaited the answer.