Bella nearly choked when she saw Lilly give Lady V. one of her innocent smiles. “Always, Lady V. But, as Lord Olney is nearsighted, he will likely be pleased if he can just see me.”
Lady V. sniggered. “Now, Lillian, he is not as blind as all that.” She stood and drew on her gloves. “Isabella, I will excuse you from tonight’s activities, but I will expect you to be up to form tomorrow, do you understand?”
Oh, she understood, well enough. She’d need to think of another excuse for tomorrow. “Yes, madam.”
“Good. Now, Lillian, if you would see me out? I would like a few private words with you regarding Lord Olney.”
Gina waited until they were gone, then closed the parlor door. “Shh. I do not want to be overheard.”
“Please do not tease me about Mr. Franklin, Gina. I am not in the mood.”
“I did not intend to tease. You have not told me about last night. What happened?”
“I have eliminated a few others. And Andrew Hunter.”
“Oh! You kissed him at last? How was it, Bella?”
Wonderful. Entrancing. Breathtaking. Compelling. “I believe he has some experience in the art.”
Gina giggled. “That good, eh?”
“I have no intention of discussing Mr. Hunter’s kiss with you.”
“I wonder if his other brothers kiss as well as he.”
“Do not even think it, Gina!”
She giggled. “I am teasing you, Bella. Where have you left your sense of humor?”
In a ward at Middlesex Hospital. “Is that all you wanted to know? Because—”
“No. You asked me to tell you if I recalled anything else from that night. I feel so awful that I can barely remember. I have never been so besotted with drink before. I still cannot imagine what it was.”
“What is it you remember, Gina?”
“I have some rather spotty memories. One of the men asked me where they might find me, but I believe I only shook my head and refused to answer. Then—oh, I am certain I am imagining it—but I vaguely recall Mr. Henley asking if I was virgin. Heavens! Why would anyone ask such a question?”
Bella felt as if someone had hit her in the stomach. She braced herself with one hand on the back of a chair. Henley? But he was blondish and shorter than Papa. How could he…but he was Andrew’s friend. Who else was in that group? Andrew’s brothers—all of them—and Lord Humphries, and Mr. Throckmorton.
“Bella? Are you ill?”
“What…how did you answer that question, Gina?”
“Why, with the truth, of course. Though I do not know if they believed me. After all, when you consider my boldness in joining them—”
She seized Gina’s arms and squeezed as tight as she could to convey her urgency. “Listen to me, Gina. It does not matter that you did not tell them where to find you—in the end they brought you home. They know! You must not leave the house unless you are with Lady V. And do not allow Lilly to leave, either. They know where we live,” she repeated.
“Why does that matter, Bella? They will not come calling.”
“I…I do not know. I…it is just a feeling I have. Caution will cost us nothing. Please, promise you will keep safe.”
Gina’s face softened and she pulled Bella into her arms to give her a comforting hug. “You are overwrought, Bella. ’Tis only natural after losing Cora and going about kissing men. But of course I will keep safe.”
Andrew sat on the edge of his bed staring down at the clothes he’d worn last night. Somehow, he’d managed to get home and undressed by himself. His standing order to Edwards was to not wait up and not to disturb him unless he rang.
His temples throbbed and he could not rid himself of the taste of brimstone. What the hell had happened? He had no memory beyond Bella…no, not Bella, but somehow Bella. A woman who looked like her? She’d stood from the throne at the head of the altar and issued some kind of invitation as if she had rehearsed the words. Then…there were bits and pieces just out of reach, but mostly a black void. The night was lost to him. He was certain he hadn’t had that much to drink. And he’d begun to feel the effects long before the Sabbath began. Blast! The wine at the Lion and Bear had been drugged. Add to that the wine at the Sabbath, and it was a wonder he could remember anything at all.
“Christ have mercy!” He stood and staggered to the washstand and splashed water on his face, hoping to dispel the last of the cobwebs from his mind. His headache was eerily like those he’d had when he’d taken opium.
His stomach churned as he bent to examine his clothes. They smelled of the sickly sweet incense and there were drops of something dark and stiff on the bottom of his trousers—the only part of his clothing that had been exposed beneath the black robes. He touched it, and knew it was not mud or tar. He’d seen enough blood, wet and dried, to know it now. But how had he gotten blood on his clothes?
A quick glance at his boots told a similar story. Damn! If his head did not ache so much, perhaps he could remember something. And yet he dreaded knowing. It was enough to know what he was capable of—and he was easily capable of killing.
Jamie and Charlie! Bloody hell! He needed to find them.
Unshaven, bleary-eyed and wrapped only in a woollen robe, Jamie entered his study. The relief Andrew felt at finding his brother faded quickly with his words.
“Have the decency to leave us to our rest, Drew. How the hell do you do it? Carousing all night and still up in the morning?”
“Charlie? Is he here?”
Jamie’s hand shook as he reached for the wine decanter. “Aye. But he’s considerably the worse for wear.”
“Coffee,” Andrew suggested.
His brother replaced the decanter and shook his head. “I’ve never felt like this, Drew. I swear I didn’t drink so much as to be so thoroughly foxed.”
“Not foxed. Drugged.”
Jamie slumped into a chair and buried his head in his hands. “Damn,” he mumbled. “Knew it had to be something like that. Why aren’t you home with a big head?”
“Experience. The headache will ease but leave you craving more. I’d advise against it.”
“Have you warned the others?”
“Dash will recognize the headache. Throckmorton and Henley—” he paused and shrugged “—will fend for themselves. I needed to know that you and Charlie were home safe.”
“Odd choice of words. I just assumed…well, if not you, who got us home?”
“Likely we got ourselves home, or someone tumbled us into a coach and gave our addresses. What do you remember, Jamie?”
“Precious little.” He raked his fingers through his tousled hair. “The Lion and Bear is fairly clear, though I recall feeling a bit lightheaded. Could just have been the noxious wine.”
But if the drug had been given to them at the Lion and Bear, and if the sulfur had been added to disguise the opium, then Henley…
“Tell me everything you remember, Jamie, no matter how inconsequential.”
“I recall walking to the warehouse, cutting through St. Giles churchyard, but once we were there, things began to go out of focus. I remember changing into the black robes. I remember someone leading us down to the storeroom, and how the place had been made into a makeshift tomb. I am certain we marched around an altar and drank more from the chalice. And…was there not someone in a red robe we all hailed as the master?”
Andrew nodded, relieved that Jamie’s recollections agreed with his own. “I thought I saw Isabella O’Rourke there.”
Jamie’s eyes widened. “No! I do not recall that at all. There was a woman, though. She might have…yes, she looked like Miss O’Rourke. Same color hair and slender build. But this woman was clearly a tart hired for the occasion.”
“How can you be certain?”
“She had a coarseness about her. And no sense of modesty. It was clear that she was offering herself to the participants of the ritual. Something about being our vessel. Your Miss O’Rourke would never have behaved in such a manner.”
> And this was where Andrew’s memory failed him. Pray Jamie remembered more. “And then?”
“Then things blurred. I recall stumbling and someone catching my arm. Thought it was you, but it was impossible to recognize anyone in those damn robes.”
It could have been him. If the amount of opium was carefully controlled, one could remain in control of one’s body, but all sense of propriety and morality, along with memory, would be gone. He nodded for Jamie to continue.
“I can see her standing on the altar, and then dropping that filmy thing she was wearing. Then there was a monotonous nonsensical chant we were all forced to repeat. Then I began to lose all sense of reality. ’Twas like…like being in some sort of trance. Our ‘vessel’ knelt and did obeisance to the master. And then…I do not remember anything. I just remember thinking that I did not care who had paid her, or how much, I did not want to participate in that part. Never have liked sharing my women. I cannot think how I used to find these things amusing, and now they are just…silly.”
Pray it was no worse than silly. But there was still the blood to account for. “Examine the things you wore last night, Jamie. Have Charlie do the same. Let me know if you find anything unusual.”
“What are you thinking, Drew?”
“I am thinking we had better stick together in this. If anyone asks, we just say we drank too much and cannot remember anything. And, meantime, trust no one. No one, Jamie.”
“Do you not think it is time for you to tell me what you are doing? I know you are up to something.”
“I’d rather not say at the moment. Just let me know if you find anything. I have some other people to see. I will find you later.”
Jamie gave him a sardonic smile. “Much later, if you please.”
Chapter Sixteen
Clearly, Mr. Franklin was not accustomed to wooing. He appeared awkward and ill at ease, and stumbled over his words. She found that he’d been ever so much more entertaining in his business environment. There was, it seemed, a very good reason Mr. Franklin was unmarried. He had no social skills.
Bella poured him another cup of tea while Gina sat near the fire, her back to them as she read a book. Every once in a while her shoulders would shake as she suppressed a laugh at the awkward conversation. She wondered how much longer Mr. Franklin would stay, considering that he’d said little and merely cleared his throat for the past five minutes.
“I…er, am glad your family has decided to stay in London until September, Miss Isabella.”
“Yes, well, the weather has been obliging. I do long for the coolness of the countryside, however. I have been trying to persuade Mama to take a little jaunt for her health. Do you ever visit the shires, Mr. Franklin?”
“My family hails from Devon. I visit them twice a year. My sisters are situated there, and my nieces and nephews.”
The bell rang and Bella prayed for some timely interruption. Anything to spare Mr. Franklin from her own awkwardness. Perhaps if they talked about leases and the family funds?
Nancy opened the parlor door and gave Bella a reproving stare. “There is a Mr. Hunter here to see you, Miss Isabella. I informed him that you were engaged, but he says he will not leave until he sees you.”
Gina came to her feet and turned toward them. “Do show him in, Nancy.”
Bella could scarcely catch her breath. Which Mr. Hunter? And, heaven help her, if it was Andrew, why had he come? He knew Lady V. had excluded him from her “acceptable” list.
Nancy turned and gave a little exclamation when she collided with Andrew Hunter. He had not waited at the door, but had followed her. Nancy slipped around him and hurried off in a huff—to tell Mama, no doubt.
Mr. Franklin stood and Bella followed suit. Andrew’s face, when he noted her caller and the teapot, registered astonishment. He removed his hat and gave a polite bow. “I am sorry to interrupt, Miss Isabella, but I needed to see you.”
“I, ah, I should be going,” Mr. Franklin said with a brief glance between her and Andrew. He turned to Bella and bowed. “I shall come again at a more opportune time, Miss Isabella. Please tell your mother I asked after her health.” They all stood suspended in time as Mr. Franklin made his exit and closed the parlor door behind him.
Andrew came forward, looking as awkward as Mr. Franklin had been. “I, literally, needed to see you.”
Her heart fluttered. How touching to have him in her parlor instead of a ball or a gaming hell—so ordinary, and yet so foreign at the same time. She couldn’t think what to say or do.
Gina filled the void. “Tea, Mr. Hunter?”
“I cannot stay long. I am sorry if I interrupted.”
Gina laughed. “We are in your debt, sir. Now, I hope you will forgive the impropriety, but I must chase after Nancy before she arrives at Mama’s door.”
Alone, Andrew came to Bella and searched her face with an almost desperate expression. “I had a dream…no, I was confused. I thought I might have seen you last night after I brought you home, and I needed to assure myself that you were well.”
“Where did you think you saw me?”
“You do not want to know, Bella. But thank God you are safe.” He breathed a deep sigh and looked out the window. Mr. Franklin’s gig was pulling away from the steps. “It never occurred to me that you were spoken for.”
“This is the first time Mr. Franklin has called. Lady Vandecamp gave permission. I gather, from the look he gave you as he departed, he will not be calling again.”
Andrew grinned, not in the least contrite that she could tell. “That does not disappoint me, Bella, though I realize he is far more acceptable to Lady V. than I could ever be. I cannot help but wonder if your taste in men is the same as hers.”
She shrugged. “I do not think she cares about my taste in men. Her goal is to find us husbands. Apart from that, she has not asked us our preferences on anything.”
“I am asking, Bella. What do you prefer?”
Her cheeks burned and she looked down at the toes of her slippers. How could she tell him she preferred him? Apart from the kiss she had begged for him to prove his innocence, he had not so much as kissed her since their night at Thackery’s. Though he now felt responsible for her, she was left to conclude that he no longer wanted her in that way.
He glanced at the door again and then leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Listen well, Bella. I want you to stay home and out of trouble. You are in far more danger than you could imagine. Whatever must be done, whoever is to blame, I will handle it.”
“I will not stop now. I will see this through or die in the effort.”
“That, my dear, is exactly what I fear.”
There was a clamor in the corridor and several female voices were raised at the same time. Bella groaned. Gina, Nancy and someone else. Pray it was Lilly and not Mama. She stepped away from Andrew, hoping to preserve some decorum despite the fact that they were unchaperoned.
“Tonight,” he whispered as the door burst open and everyone crowded through the opening.
Heavens! It was all of them—Mama, Gina, Nancy and Lilly. Her mother hadn’t even paused long enough to smooth her gown or arrange her hair. She looked like a middle-aged general leading her battalion. “What is this?” she asked.
“Mama, may I present Mr. Andrew Hunter? He is the Earl of Lockwood’s brother. Mr. Hunter, may I introduce my mother, Mrs. O’Rourke?”
“Hunter?” she asked with an imperious lift of her voice. “Hunter? He is not on Eleanor’s list.”
“He…I…”
Andrew stepped forward, took her mother’s hand, bowed and lifted it to his lips. “Mrs. O’Rourke. Of course. I would have known you anywhere. ’Tis easy to see the family resemblance and where your daughters acquired their fine looks.”
“Oh? Well…yes, all my girls are lovely, are they not?”
“Indeed. And please do not blame Miss Isabella. I was, ah, bringing her something she dropped in the park the other day when I saw her walking.”
“Dropped?” She turned to Bella and fixed her with a stern expression. She hoped Mama would not embarrass her with a tirade about her inadequacies. “What did you drop, Bella? Have I not warned you repeatedly that you are too careless?”
“I…I…”
“She was not careless in the least, Mrs. O’Rourke. She was escorting her sisters, and her attention was somewhat diverted.” Andrew reached into his waistcoat pocket and brought forth a little square of lace-edged linen and presented it to her with a bow. “Your handkerchief, Miss Isabella.”
She accepted the handkerchief, breathing a sigh of relief and a prayer of thanksgiving that Andrew Hunter was so brilliant at deceit! “Thank you, sir.”
Mama gave him a begrudging look of approval. “Well, as long as you are here, Mr. Hunter, you may as well stay for tea.”
“Thank you for your kindness, Mrs. O’Rourke, but I have another appointment. Perhaps another time?”
“Yes, perhaps,” she allowed. She waved Bella back as she followed Andrew to show him out.
“That was close,” Gina whispered in her ear.
Bella looked down at the handkerchief. Emblazoned across one corner were the initials C O. Cora! Her fingers trembled as they traced the letter. How had Andrew come into possession of Cora’s hankie?
Andrew was on his third cup of coffee and reduced to reading the classified section of the Times before Wycliffe arrived in the salon of his club on St. James Street. He helped himself to a cup of coffee from a sideboard near the door before taking a seat with a casual air. The only other occupant of the room was an elderly man dozing in his chair by the fire.
“Have you got something?” he asked in the low tones associated with the club.
Andrew hardly knew where to begin. “I think I am on the trail. If I am right, the ceremony is moved each time.”
Lord Libertine Page 18
