Love's Betrayals (The Extraordinary Life of Amy Winston Book 2)

by Liza O'Connor

  “Too late to be carrying water to the second floor?”

  “Never, sir. It’s just that I didn’t wish to wake the young miss in your bed,” Dodson replied. He led Antonio into the kitchen and assisted him in removing his blood-soaked clothes. “Should I call for the miss now or once you have bathed?”

  “I don’t think most of this blood is mine. I’ll bathe first. Who was supposed to be watching Amy tonight?” he demanded as he stepped in the tub and eased his aching body into the warm water.

  “I believe Gunter is watching her.”

  “Well, how the hell did she get into my room?”

  “I imagine she walked through the door, sir.” Dodson answered without betraying a tinge of sarcasm or humor.

  Nonetheless, Antonio knew the man thought himself terribly witty at the moment. “And where was Gunter when she was walking through the door of a man’s bedroom?”

  “In your bedroom. He entered, verified your windows were secure, that there were no monsters in the closet—his words, sir—and then posted himself outside your door.”

  Antonio smiled. What else could he do? It was easier to let Amy commandeer the bed than to argue with her.

  Having washed off the blood, Antonio studied the wounds on his arm and shoulder. He saw the streaking red lines forming that Amy had been so upset about before. He rose and put on the robe that Dodson held out for him. Thanking Dodson for his assistance, he headed up to his room.

  Gunter, posted by his door, asked him if his night was successful.

  “A bit more complex than I anticipated.”

  Gunter nodded. “They always are. Lil Bit has thoughtfully installed herself in your bed, so you would not need to wake the other ladies if you required healing. Do you require healing?”

  “Unfortunately, I do. After eliminating the problem in an opium overdose that will simply look like an unfortunate accident, I ran into unexpected trouble leaving Madame Celeste’s. That bastard who tried to slit Dodson’s throat…”

  “The one with the dirty knife?”

  “He must have jumped the ship before it got out to sea…”

  “You sure it was the same man?”

  “Without a doubt. He was pissed off about being put on the ship and wanted to pay me back. My senses told me to kill the man the night they attacked here, and I certainly regret not following my gut. I didn’t dare leave his body in the alley. If a king’s man was found dead anywhere near the scene of the prince’s death we would have an international incident. So, I had to drag that lard ass to my horse, throw him over the saddle and tie him down like a carrier bag. Then I had to walk my horse and its package two damn miles to the river. I expected every second some bobby to turn a corner and start screeching their damn whistle.”

  “You must be beat,” Gunter replied and opened the door to his room.

  “I’ll sleep in your room once Amy heals these wounds.

  Gunter gave him a look of pity. “Sleep in your own bed. You don’t look to have the strength to get in much trouble.”

  “I am tired—but that makes it more, not less likely, that I’ll lose control.”

  “Well, the colonel will be watching. If he sees something he objects to, he’ll let me know and I’ll jump right in and pull you two apart. How’s that?”

  Antonio placed his hand on the giant’s arm. “Actually, I find it very comforting. Thanks, my friend.”

  ***

  Amy seemed so peaceful, sleeping in his bed, that he hated to wake her. Yet, he knew he had no choice. His wounds needed cleaned.

  He had no more than sat on the edge of the bed and touched her with his hand when her eyes opened in alarm and she sat up. She pushed back his robe, quickly locating the cuts on his arms. She reached for the neatly folded cloth on the side table and saturated it with whiskey.

  “I see you were prepared for the worst,” he teased, noticing the picks were also lying upon the table as well as the bong for the opium.

  “A good soldier tries.” She reached for her pick to assist in cleaning the wounds and placed the black substance she extracted on a small dish. “This is just like the wounds that Brick and you had before.”

  “Same bastard.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “Jumped ship and swam back to shore.”

  “Well, I hoped you killed him this time, for that is certainly what he intended to do to you.”

  “He and that damn knife are feeding the fishes.”

  “Poor fish will probably die if they eat whatever he put on his knife.” Her voice softened with compassion for the innocent fish.

  God, he could have traveled the entire world and never found another like her. So compassionate and kind to the innocent, yet very practical when it came to the evil beasts that walked the streets.

  “Do you think you can retrieve enough of the black so that I can give it to a druggist to identify?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. His knife must have been covered in whatever it was.”

  Cleaning the wounds took so long that Antonio kept nodding off between the bouts of sharp pain. When she insisted that he lay down on his side, so she could work on the wounds further he remembered groaning when his head reached the soft pillow and nothing further.

  Chapter 39

  Amy was in her second hour of cleaning Antonio’s wounds when she felt a change in her heart beat. She put down her tools and stared at her hands in surprise. The poison she had extracted from Antonio had soaked into her fingers making her sick.

  Gunter knelt beside her and asked what was wrong. She explained what had happened and then ordered him to be still. She focused on her hands trying to heal them. It was hard, for she had always used her hands as the channel of her energies. Now they needed to be the recipient.

  “Gunter, we need to determine what that black stuff in the dish is. And we need to find an antidote. I can’t seem to heal my own hands.”

  Gunter and the dish were gone in an instant. Amy returned to cleansing Antonio’s wound determined to save him before she died.

  She closed the first wound when Mrs. Halloway returned with Gunter and Dodson in tow.

  Amy protested as Gunter carried her to the opposite side of the bed. Her mouth was opened, and a vile liquid was poured down her throat. She resisted the second spoonful, but she was too weak to make it much of a contest as to who would win.

  She heard Antonio gagging and coughing, asking what the hell he had just been given. She wanted to tell them that he didn’t need the liquid, she had cured him, but unfortunately, she lacked the strength to speak.

  Suddenly she felt a surge of strength as Anthony pulled her into his arms, demanding her to live. She had no idea how to heal herself, but she needed to try. “Hold my hand on my other hand,” she said, her voice barely audible, for her lungs weren’t working very well.

  After a moment, she felt her hand placed upon her other with his hands wrapped around them both. They burned from his touch, but it helped her to concentrate on reviving the one hand. She then moved it above the other and again Antonio’s hands encircled hers and the warmth burned into her fingers.

  Amy moved her hands up her arms and onto her chest. Antonio pressed his own hands against her. She could feel his determination for her to live. She could feel his hot, searing love, and suddenly her lungs began to pull in air and her heart returned to a steady pace.

  She opened her eyes and smiled at him. “I’m going to be fine, I just need to rest.” Then she fell off to sleep.

  ***

  Amy woke to his worried face. He sat in a chair by the bed.

  “How long have you been there?”

  “An eternity,” he replied. “How do you feel?”

  “Fine, but tired. I’d feel better if you would hold me.”

  Carefully, he lay beside her and pulled her against his chest. “How is this?”

  “Heavenly.” She then fell back to sleep.

  ***

  The next time she woke, he was gently
shaking her shoulder. “Amy, it has been a very long time since you’ve drank or eaten anything. Will you try for me?”

  She nodded and consumed first the tea and then a thin soup Mrs. Campbell had prepared.

  She enjoyed lying against his chest but resented the shirt he wore and unbuttoned it.

  “Amy, what are you doing?”

  “Taking your shirt off.”

  “Why?”

  “I just like the feel of your hot skin against mine.”

  “Does that help you heal?”

  She found it impossible to lie to him. She sighed, knowing once she confessed the truth, the shirt would stay on. “No. I just like the feel of your flesh against mine.”

  “Amy…” he groaned and pulled her tight against him. “You need to focus on getting better.”

  “I’m better. I am healed, rested, and would like to eat something more substantial than the soup Mrs. Campbell thoughtfully cooked for me.”

  Her declaration caused Antonio to pull her to him and cover her face with kisses.

  Amy felt overwhelmed with his joy and laughed. “Had I known I would get such a wonderful reaction, I would have woken up hours ago.”

  “If you were well, I wish you would have. I’ve been worried sick!” he scolded although his eyes belied the joy in his heart.

  “How long have I been asleep?”

  “Twelve hours. It is near six.”

  “Well, at least Mrs. Campbell won’t have to make me a special meal. I can wait an hour for dinner.”

  Antonio shifted her in his arms and she knew he was going to kiss her. Her body tingled in anticipation.

  “Excuse me, sir,” Dodson declared from the door. “I am very sorry to interrupt, but Inspector Yardrow is insisting upon speaking to you. When I told him that you were indisposed he demanded to be taken to you at once. When I still refused, he threatened to have me arrested for interfering with police business.”

  Antonio cursed softly beneath his breath as he rose from the bed. “If you are planning to join us for dinner you should dress and go downstairs at once so that everyone can fuss over you now. Else dinner will be delayed.”

  ***

  He found Inspector Yardrow studying the window latches when he entered the parlor. “Thinking of taking up burglary?” Antonio asked as he entered the room and closed the door behind him.

  “Not in this house.” Yardrow smiled at him. “You look well.”

  “Should I not?”

  He shrugged. “I was concerned when the butler declared you indisposed.”

  “I understand you threatened him with arrest?”

  “I was concerned and thought I might be able to help you.” He pulled a small blue bottle from his vest and set it on the table.

  “What’s that?”

  “An antidote for a very deadly black snake that lives on the island of Tasmania.”

  “An odd thing for an inspector to carry about on his person.”

  “Not when he is following a man known to dip his knife in a black tar mixture that contains the deadly venom.”

  Antonio stared at him. The inspector was toying with him; letting him know that someone had witnessed the murder of the King’s man. “Were you planning to tuck it into my coffin? If I had needed it, you’d be a bit slow on the delivery.”

  “That was my concern,” he admitted. “And why I bullied your butler. Unfortunately, my morning did not go precisely as I intended. We had two major incidences on opposite sides of the town and instead of sending different inspectors to each site, my superior insisted I handle them both, since I had been working on cases related to each of them.”

  There was only one thing in his statement that confused Antonio. “On opposite sides of town?”

  “Yes. There was a street killing involving a King’s man off Bleaker’s wharf. I had expected to handle that case, since I saw the brawl and fetched the King’s man from the water. But I had not expected to have to spend the entire day on the accidental death of a gentleman who turned out to be more important than his alias presumed. I pleaded with my superior to send someone else, but he refused to listen. It was my case and I would see it through to the end.” He paused. “I am relieved to see the antidote was not needed. It’s evidently a very painful death. The early symptoms are red streaks like blood poisoning, and while the venom is poisoning the blood; it also paralyzes the main body functions. There have been over a hundred deaths from this mysterious blood poisoning in the last two years. Every death ruled blood poisoning or infection from a minor wound; absolutely nothing to warrant the attention of the police.”

  “So what made you make the connection?”

  “I was interviewing a doctor in the hospital on the suspicious death of a gentleman’s wife. I asked him if the symptoms sounded like poison. He suggested we asked another doctor who was a specialist in poisons, explaining the fellow had come all the way from Tasmania to investigate their blood poisoning mystery.”

  Yardrow smiled. “A mystery and a fellow investigator of the truth—you can imagine my excitement. They had the body of one of the victims and both the doctor and I studied the body with great care. He took a sample of the blood and declared the cause of death poison from a snake toxin. We searched the body everywhere for a bite, but all we found was a knife wound. As fortune would have it, the resident doctor said he thought he had another case among the live patients.”

  The Inspector’s grim look let Antonio know the direction of his story. “Poor fellow, we interrogated the hell out of him. The doctor took vials and vials of his blood, but as much as he helped us, the doctors could not help him. I watched the man die a horrible death and his only crime was he tried to stop a man from manhandling his twelve-year-old daughter. For that he was slashed on the arm. He didn’t report it to the police, of course, since it was a small price to pay to keep his daughter safe.

  “He had given me a good description of the man, and I felt I owed him more than just finding his killer. His wife had died the year before and his daughter was now alone. I went to his flat to find her. I was not certain what I would do with her when I did, but I could not leave her unprotected, not after her father had died for his efforts.”

  Yardrow sighed and stared at his hands. “Unfortunately, she was gone. I finally found a neighbor I could bully into talking and she admitted the girl was taken to the docks to be sold. So, I went to that filthy warehouse and demanded her release. After an assortment of ridiculous lies, the auctioneer admitted he had sold her the day before. I asked where I could find her purchaser, he didn’t know. All he could tell me was that the man came every week to buy a new girl.

  “So, I waited for the next auction. The auctioneer identified him, and when the man bought a new girl I followed them home.”

  Yardrow frowned. “I put a man to watch his house, but the Metropolitan Police are not sanctioned to break into people’s houses and search about, even if they are certain there are crimes taking place within. All I can do is put a man outside to watch—where nothing untoward occurs.”

  He sighed heavily. “There are so many young girls who die every day. Since I had never actually seen the man’s daughter, I was never able to identify her from all the unidentified bodies in the morgue. However, I was able to identify the five girls who were bought after her, because I was there when he bought each one. With five suspicious circumstantial deaths, I was finally able to convince a judge to sign a search warrant for the cellar in his house.”

  “Why limit it to the cellar?”

  “Because the judge insisted. Hell, I didn’t know where he might be killing these girls. I guessed the cellar because the man I had stationed outside never heard even a cry and the way he butchered these girls I was certain they must have screamed. So, I chose the most likely place that would muffle cries of torture.

  “The judge took his time mulling over the warrants of the search. The house belonged to a gentleman. That always makes them nervous. I suspect he spent the day ensuring th
at Dewey Barthemore wasn’t connected with anyone to whom he owed favors. He didn’t sign it until the next morning. I hoped the young girl was still alive, but when I first saw her, I didn’t think she was. It was only when she groaned while I cut her down that I realized we weren’t too late after all.

  “Finding her tied up, in such a condition—I knew I had him. It was an excellent case against him: five dead girls marked the same as this one, all bought by him, all brutally murdered. Gentry or not, he would hang. I had no doubt. I took the girl to the station and sent for a doctor. Barthemore assured me he’d be out in less than an hour, and sadly, he was correct in that prediction. My supervisor called me into his office and told me to go apologize for the mistaken arrest and return his property by the end of the day.”

  Yardrow seemed to be staring at the fireplace as his mind went back to that day. “To say that I was shocked and appalled by my instructions does not even begin to cover the emotions I felt. I have had the greatest respect for my supervisor, and for as long as I have known him, I have never thought him susceptible to graft or bribes. I could not believe he would turn now, and certainly not on this case. When I looked him in the eyes, all I saw was remorse and sadness. He apologized to me and said there was nothing to be done but to let the man go.

  “I was livid with rage. I asked by ‘property’ if he meant the poor girl who had been raped, sodomized, and sliced to her near death? His voice shook when he replied ‘yes’. I yelled at him. I had never yelled at him before. I declared she was on death’s door and no condition to go anywhere. That seemed to grab his attention and I was told if she required hospital care, I must of course see to it. Just then, the doctor I had called enters and declares the girl to have a few minor cuts and bruises, but otherwise she’s fine.”

  “What was the doctor’s name?”

  Yardrow ignored his question and continued his story. “Having the girl declared fine, my supervisor ordered me to return her to Barthemore’s house. He advised me to do it now and get it over with. Otherwise, Barthemore would no doubt send men to retrieve her. He then thanked the doctor for his time. Once the doctor had left, my supervisor encouraged me to take the girl now, then observed he knew I had other cases to work on as well and suggested if I needed to see people on my other cases while I had access to a carriage, he would not mind.