The Scarlet Bride

by Cheryl Ann Smith

  Alas, her efforts gained her nothing.

  She spent another two hours suppressing yawns, and envy, between brief and amusing comments made by her companion. She desperately wished she could join the guests on the dance floor. Occasionally, Simon would whirl past, a woman in his arms, and jealousy would burn in her breast.

  She wondered if one of them was Lady Jeanette. No chit of marriageable age would ever miss an event of this size.

  Although Laura grew up in a small village, she knew that mamas with eligible daughters would have to be felled by the plague before they’d pass up this opportunity to prance their little darlings in front of dozens of eligible men.

  Simon could be engaged before night’s end.

  Even with Laura at the party, he’d not pass on the chance for an engagement should the opportunity arise. Lady Jeanette was too grand a prize for him to lose because of his fondness for an impoverished former courtesan.

  Her eyes burned and she blinked away tears.

  It was then that Laura realized she had fallen headlong in love with Simon. With this newfound information came a bitterness that soured her stomach. She’d gone and done exactly what she’d feared she’d do: become emotionally attached to him, the one man she could never have.

  “Are you feeling well, Miss Prescott?” Aunt Bernie asked. “You look pale.” She pushed a drooping feather out of one eye.

  Laura blinked. “I think I need some air.”

  Aunt Bernie pressed her fan into Laura’s hand. “Take this.”

  Her hand closed around the item. “Thank you, but I fear I need to step outside.” She stumbled to her feet and walked briskly across the room toward the patio doors. As she got close to freedom, she bumped into a woman in lavender who stepped into her path. “Excuse me.”

  The woman turned and Laura gaped. “Miss Noelle?”

  As quickly as the words were out, Miss Noelle’s arm hooked around hers. She was ushered out the door, across the terrace, and into another door, which turned out to be a library.

  Shock at finding Miss Noelle at the duchess’s ball kept her from speaking. Miss Noelle had transformed from a woman who helped school courtesans to a peacock in silk and jewels.

  Laura knew Simon and Miss Noelle were cousins. She just assumed Miss Noelle was an impoverished member of the family. She certainly dressed the part at the school.

  “Come, sit.” Miss Noelle pressed her into a chair. “Would you like a brandy? I know the duke keeps some somewhere.”

  Laura shook her head and sat the fan on the table. “Who are you?” she whispered.

  A smile flashed. “Lady Noelle Seymour, but more recently, Mrs. Gavin Blackwell. I do play my part of the helpful widow quite well, don’t you think? The courtesans accept me as such without question.”

  Before Laura could ask the myriad of questions bouncing about in her head, the terrace door flung open, startling both women.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Simon stepped quickly into the room and clicked the door closed behind him. He crossed the room with brisk steps.

  “What is happening?” he asked, his face concerned. He quickly looked Laura over. “I saw Noelle pull you out of the ballroom. Are you ill?”

  Laura shook her head. “It was nothing. Well, unless you consider my shock at finding out that Miss Noelle is a Lady.” She scowled. “I am beginning to realize that there is a vast array of secrets hiding in the courtesan school and in your family. Is there anything else I should know?”

  Simon looked at Miss Noelle. “You know Noelle is my cousin. We haven’t hidden that information.”

  “I do,” Laura replied. She pressed a gloved hand to her forehead. “Is Sophie your sister? Is Thomas your long-suffering bastard brother?”

  He chuckled. “Sophie is not my sister. She is no relation at all. And I am positive Thomas is not the product of my father stepping out on Mother. She’d kill him.”

  “Perfect.” She glanced at Miss Noelle. “How closely are you related to the duchess? You have the same color eyes.”

  The two cousins briefly stared at each other, as if trying to decide what information to share. Finally, Miss Noelle spoke. “The duchess is my half sister. We just met about a year ago. We’ve kept it secret for now.”

  If loving Simon had been an impossible dream before this moment, it was as far out of reach as the stars now.

  Though she’d known he was to be an earl someday, as the cousin of a duchess and Lady Noelle, he’d need someone like Lady Jeanette at his side. He might care for Laura, but ultimately, he would do his duty to his family.

  Her shoulders slumped. Why couldn’t she have been rescued by a footman or a farmer? Why did it have to be Simon?

  “Will you leave us?” Simon asked and Noelle slipped quietly out onto the terrace. He crouched down onto his heels and closed a hand over hers. “Will you tell me why you look as though your best friend has just died?”

  “My only friend has just died.” She sighed deeply. “You cannot be my friend. Not really. It’s a game we’ve played these last few weeks. Don’t you see that, Simon? It doesn’t matter how deeply I care for you, or that you are still only third in line to become an earl, you and I will never be able to socialize publicly without drawing scandal.”

  “We’ve know this from the first. It hasn’t stopped us from caring for each other. Why is this coming up now, tonight, when we have suspects to uncover?”

  She closed her fists. “Because I’ve come to the horrible realization that I’m falling in love with you. Every time you danced with a young woman tonight, I wanted to pull her hair out. Every time I overheard Lady Jeanette’s name, I wanted to push her in front of a coach.” She stood and rubbed her eyes beneath the spectacles and said angrily, “Don’t you see, I knew better. I knew that our time together was a mistake. You are too charming and handsome to resist. How could I not love you?”

  Simon chuckled softly. “Is loving me as terrible as all that?” He pulled her into his arms. “It isn’t as if the condition is fatal.”

  “It is when one day soon, you and I will part forever and my heart will shatter into bits,” she grumbled and met his eyes. “I truly expect nothing from you, Simon. My feelings are mine alone.” She plucked at his coat. “I understand the way of this world and will go away quietly when we are done. I only wish that I had protected my heart a little better.”

  Simon lifted her chin. The surprise of her stunning confession had taken him aback. It shouldn’t have. Laura always spoke openly about her feelings. At least she’d never held back when scolding him for his forward behavior.

  Still, he never expected her to love him.

  “I cannot marry you.” He looked softly into her beautiful gray eyes. Even the drab disguise couldn’t hide away her loveliness. He’d been watching her all evening, barely able to tear his gaze away, wishing it were she dancing in his arms.

  “I know.” She smiled wistfully. “I wouldn’t marry you if I could. I need a life free of gossip and social stigma. If my time with Westwick was ever to become news, I would be ostracized by everyone you know.”

  Sadly, she was correct. And in spite of his fondness for her, they both had to be practical. Though her situation hadn’t been her fault, she’d always carry the title of courtesan, if only in her mind.

  “Then we shall continue forward with our investigation and speak of this no more.” Simon leaned forward and impulsively pressed a light kiss on her lips. “Come, let us return to the ballroom before Aunt Bernie notices you are missing.”

  The hallway was quiet when they emerged from the library. Laura excused herself to go to the retiring room, wanting a few minutes to settle her emotions before returning to the ball.

  There were several women already there but they barely gave her a glance. Laura walked over to a mirror and adjusted her spectacles. For the first time, she’d confessed to loving a man and nothing had changed because of it. The sun hadn’t broken through the clouds to cast them in shimmery light, an
d birds hadn’t chirped a happy song to celebrate her love.

  No, life would go on as it always did.

  She exited the room and realized she’d left the fan in the library. Retracing her footsteps, she found the fan where she’d put it down. She hooked it over her wrist and turned toward the door.

  A flutter of curtains caught her attention.

  Miss Noelle had left the terrace doors open. She walked across the room and reached for the handles. She had only a moment to realize that she wasn’t alone when a pair of hands caught her arms from behind and jerked her back against a hard chest. She let out a surprised squeak.

  “Say nothing,” a voice commanded. His breath smelled strongly of ale. His plain brown coat gave no clue as to his identity as she tried to look over her shoulder at his face.

  Yet there was something familiar about the voice. Though she couldn’t immediately place it, a cold trill of alarm went down her body.

  The man released one arm for an instant. She hadn’t time to begin to struggle, or to reach for the knife in her garter, when a blade was pressed against her throat. She went still.

  “Imagine my surprise to find the beautiful Laura attending the duke’s ball in the accompaniment of Lady Bernice Harrington. You have obviously taken up a new profession,” he hissed into her ear. “Isn’t playing Harrington’s whore enough to keep you occupied? Now you are a lady’s companion to his aunt?” He snickered. “You are a woman of many talents.”

  “Please, what do you want?” Laura asked. Her mind reached out, trying to put a name or face to the voice. It was just out of grasp. But she knew him. Somehow. And he knew her.

  With the knife pressed to her flesh, it was difficult to think of anything but saving herself.

  A low chuckle filled her ear as he pressed his mouth to her lobe. She shuddered. “What do I want? I want you, Laura. From our first meeting, you have haunted me, a vision in a simple cream dress. I can still see the sadness and acceptance in your eyes as you went stoically to your fate.”

  “I don’t know you,” she pressed. “You have mistaken me for another.” The churn of panic kept her frozen. One slip of the blade and she’d be dead. “Please release me.”

  He nipped her ear. She winced.

  “There are too many guests for us to get reacquainted properly.” The knife trailed from her neck to her shoulder blade. She clutched her throat with her free hand.

  “We will talk again,” he said. “Soon.”

  Spinning her around, he shoved her into the room and escaped out the terrace doors.

  Laura didn’t wait for him to change his mind and return. She ran across the room and into the hallway. A couple stepped back in surprise as she raced passed them. She had to get to Simon before the stranger escaped.

  Never had a hallway seemed so long as she hurried away from the library. She just made it to within a few footsteps to safety when a faded image slipped to the fore and his words became clear. She’d married in a simple cream dress. Only a few people knew that information and two of them were dead.

  A face rushed into her head and with it a name.

  Henry.

  Bile burned in her throat.

  It took Laura forever to find Simon. He was in an alcove talking with a pair of gentlemen when he caught her eye. Fear must have been evident on her face, for he quickly excused himself and walked toward her.

  “I—” She struggled for words and touched her neck. “I was accosted in the library.”

  That was all it took for Simon’s face to tighten. “Come with me.” He turned and led Laura from the room.

  For the third time, she found herself in the library. Her eyes darted to the open doors, half expecting to find Henry hiding, ready to attack her again.

  There was nothing to indicate his presence. Clearly he’d had the sense to flee after accosting her.

  Simon locked the door behind them. “Tell me everything.”

  Laura rubbed her arms. “I returned for the fan and a man snuck up behind me with a knife. He must have been lurking outside and crept in here after we left. It was unfortunate that I left Aunt Bernie’s fan behind.”

  Simon’s jaw pulsed. “Did he hurt you?”

  She shook her head. “He pressed the blade to my neck. He said he desired me from our first meeting and mentioned a dress I used to wear. At first, I didn’t know what that meant. And he called me Laura, not Sabine.”

  “Did you know him?”

  “It wasn’t until after he fled that it came to me.” She looked up, her fear rising. “It was Henry.”

  “Henry?” Simon scowled as he walked over to pour her a glass of wine and handed it to her.

  She drank to clear her dry throat. Then, “Westwick’s friend. I spoke of him before. He witnessed our marriage and was often a guest at the town house. I never considered that he could be the killer. The way he’d held the blade…I’m certain he could use it with deadly accuracy.”

  Simon clenched his fists. “You are lucky to be unhurt. I never should have left you alone.”

  “You could not know I’d be accosted here. There are hundreds of possible witnesses.” She drained the glass. Her hands shook. “Though he attacked me, I believe it wasn’t his intention to harm me.” She set down the glass. “He wants me; he is playing with me. He will do me no harm while his desire is unsatisfied.”

  Laura felt Simon’s rage, saw it in his eyes.

  “The bastard.” Simon walked to the sideboard and poured a drink. “Does this Henry have a full name?”

  She stared at his back, tense and stiff. She tried once more to remember what she could about Henry and recalled very few details. Yet she knew his face well. She’d seen it many times. Otherwise, she had little information that would help Simon find him.

  “I do not know it.” A helpless feeling followed. “He is somewhere his early twenties and has dark hair. I don’t think he is a noble as his clothing is modest, though well cut, and he doesn’t have the air of a man born to privilege.”

  Simon turned around. “Does he have any scars or oddities that would make him noticeable?”

  “Not that I can remember. He was ordinary. Well, as ordinary as one can be with a streak of evil in his heart. He often brought women to the town house and abused them. It was as if he were the other half of Westwick. In fact, they somewhat resembled each other in coloring.”

  “Is it possible that they are related?” Simon walked over to claim a chair. Only the light from a pair of sconces kept the room from darkness.

  “It’s possible.” Laura stood near the cold fireplace. “I’d never considered it.” She ran a fingertip along the mantle. “They were as unalike as they were alike. Westwick was clearly the leader and Henry was the one led along. Even so, he had an arrogance about him that led me to believe he wasn’t entirely happy to be the follower.”

  Simon fell silent. After a moment, he said, “If he is a guest here, he should be easy to find.”

  “I wish I knew more,” Laura said. “I was struggling to survive during those months in captivity. I paid very little attention to anything beyond my own suffering. Henry was merely another background player. Had I known that Westwick would be murdered, I would have paid closer attention to the man he called a friend.”

  Fortunately, the rest of the evening went without incident. Against Simon’s wishes, she’d stayed at the party. She knew Henry; he did not. Unfortunately, her continued presence led them no closer to finding the mysterious Henry. If he was a guest, he’d left after confronting Laura.

  Simon spoke to both the duke and Eva, but they were as puzzled as he was. The duke vowed to call for Crawford in the morning and give him the new information.

  It was nearing two o’clock when Simon escorted the women back to the Harrington town house. He thought it best if Laura spent the night there, and Laura agreed. As a companion, she was found a room on the upper floor and the maid was instructed to find a nightdress for her to use.

  Aunt Bernie bade them goo
d night.

  “If my sleeping away from the school continues, I shall have to start carrying a valise with a change of clothing,” Laura remarked as Simon led her upstairs. She yawned.

  “I think you should move in here.”

  “What?” Her exhaustion faded.

  Simon stopped outside the bedroom door. “I no longer think you’ll be safe at the school. I believe it will be best if you are here, where I can keep watch over you.”

  Laura bristled. “I can watch over myself.”

  He grinned. “I know you can. However, I find the appearance of this Henry at the ball more than a coincidence. If he is not a member of society, then he was not an invited guest. He attacked you in the library. That leads me to believe he was watching you through the windows this evening. He saw you leave the fan and expected you to return for it. He lay in wait.”

  “Then he knew I’d be at the ball,” Laura said. “He watched me all night, waiting for his opportunity to confront me.”

  “Tonight, and likely every day over the last few weeks. If so, he knows about the school, whom you talk to, everything about your life.”

  The idea of her presence at the school endangering the women outraged her. “I knew someone was watching me. I felt him. But I never saw anything suspicious.” She pressed her fist to her mouth. “I rarely leave the school. Is it possible that he followed us the night of my escape?”

  “I don’t believe so. I was careful.”

  A terrifying thought came to mind. “Oh, dear. He was in the coach.” Her eyes widened. The crushing truth became clear and she paced. “He must have seen me escape the town house. He was there when the footmen tried to reclaim me and saw me ride off with you.” She rubbed her hands together. She was very sure that she was right. “It wouldn’t be difficult to discover the owner of Horse. He is a distinctive animal.”