Andrew nodded. In truth, he was not sorry that a piece of dung like Wilson no longer walked the earth to sell women as human sacrifices.
Then the incongruity hit him. He looked at Farrell in astonishment. “But it should have been me, should it not? Why kill Wilson? Or Hank, for that matter? I was the one asking questions. Why wasn’t I put out of the way?”
Farrell took another long drink from his cup before answering. “I have been wondering that myself, Hunter. And I believe I have the answer, though you will not like it.”
“Out with it,” Andrew growled.
“The killer is someone you know. Someone close to you. For some reason, he does not want you dead, but he doesn’t want you to know what he is up to. Were I you, Hunter, I would watch my back and trust no one. I know I will.”
Andrew wanted to argue, but the logic was so clear that he couldn’t. He’d begun to wonder the same thing after his wine was drugged. He hadn’t wanted to believe Henley had drugged them, but the evidence was compelling.
Henley had changed in the last months. He’d become sly and secretive, more prone to drunkenness. He and McPherson…McPherson? No. Surely not.
“Making a mental list of those you can trust?”
“Damn few. Tonight…” he murmured. “Someone else is going to die tonight if I do not find the answers to my questions.”
“We do not have much time,” Farrell acknowledged. “For all my questions, I’ve gotten precious little in return. I’ve heard more about the ‘Thirteenth Sabbath.’ Most of it is speculation, but there are a few tidbits that are more promising. I need more time, Hunter, to sort the wheat from the chaff. If I am right, I will have the information you need tonight.”
“What have you heard thus far?”
“Midnight. A Mayfair location. An elite guest list.”
“Are any women reported missing?”
“None in my strata. Yours?”
“None that I know. I will find out more this evening.”
“I think the next victim will come from society, Hunter.”
“Why?”
“Virgin sacrifice. That is the other thing I’m hearing. There are precious few virgins in the rookeries. And children are not in this particular pattern.”
Andrew’s stomach turned at the thought of children being used for such purposes.
Farrell stood and went to the sideboard to pour himself another cup of coffee. “The more I dig into this, the more I want to see an end to it, too. I have a few ideas. I know people. Highly connected people.”
“So do I,” Andrew said.
“Keep your name out of it, Hunter. The more questions you ask, the more danger you are in. And I think there may be someone else you need to protect?”
Bella! Damnation! She was too vulnerable. Too stubborn. If he did not watch her, she could stumble into the middle of this. “If I do not hear from you sooner, I will come here at nine o’clock tonight.”
Farrell nodded and walked Andrew to the door. “By nine.”
“Miss Isabella! Come down at once. Mr. Hunter is here, and he says he will not leave until you see him!”
Nancy’s voice was bordering on hysterical, and Bella realized that Mama must already know they had a caller. “A moment,” she called through her closed bedroom door. She paused long enough to check her appearance in her mirror. Dark smudges beneath her eyes bore testament to inadequate sleep, and the high color in her cheeks betrayed her apprehension. Something must be wrong. He’d told her he would come tomorrow. What was so urgent that he’d come today?
As she hurried down the stairs, Gina and Lilly fell in behind her. Oh, dear. How could she and Andrew talk when her sisters were hanging on every word? As if reading her mind, Gina gave a little shake of her head, as if to say she had no intention of leaving them alone.
Andrew was standing by the window, his hands clasped behind his back in an attitude of waiting. He turned and gave her that crooked grin that made her blush. She, Gina and Lilly all dropped a perfunctory curtsy. Her heart tripped a beat and she tried not to think of the things he’d done to her last night. Oh—or the things she’d done to him!
“Mr. Hunter, how nice to see you so soon again,” Gina said, filling the awkward pause.
“Thank you, Miss Eugenia. And may I say it is good to see you looking so well this morning.”
“We were just about to have our tea. Would you like to join us?” Lilly asked him.
“No, thank you, Miss Lillian. I just came to have a few words with your sister.”
“Oh, it is no trouble at all, sir.” Lilly sent a hovering Nancy away with a wave of her hand to fetch the tea, then sank into the middle of the sofa and folded her hands in her lap.
Gina settled in a chair and took up her embroidery hoop before casting a curious glance in Bella’s direction.
Andrew gave her a helpless look and she almost laughed. He knew what to do in the most awkward situations, but he could not handle her sisters in a drawing room. The thought made her feel a bit calmer. She took a deep breath and gestured to a chair opposite the sofa before taking a place beside Lilly.
“It is a lovely day, is it not?” Lilly’s expression was so completely innocent that Bella wondered where she had perfected such an art.
“Lovely…yes,” Andrew repeated as he sat, looking at a loss. He cleared his throat and cast Bella a desperate look. “I wonder if you might consent to walk with me in the garden, Miss Isabella.”
“I would…” A thumping gait on the stairs told Bella that Mama had collected herself and was on the way to sap any possible enjoyment from the gathering.
All eyes turned to the door and Mama entered, her hair mussed and her gown wrinkled. Bella would have groaned with embarrassment if not for Mama’s unpleasant expression.
“Ah! Mr. Hunter again, is it?”
Andrew stood and offered a polite bow. “Madame.”
“Come to call on Bella, did you? Has she mentioned the family is in mourning, sir?”
“She has, Mrs. O’Rourke. But there is a matter of some import I would like to discuss with her.”
“Import? What is the chit up to?” Mama narrowed her eyes and gestured Lilly and Gina to the door with a shooing motion.
Lilly rolled her eyes as if to say she always missed the most interesting parts. Gina gave her a helpless shrug and closed the door behind them.
“Well, now,” Mama said, looking between them. “Suppose you tell me what is afoot here, Mr. Hunter. You cannot have more than a passing acquaintance with my daughter. How has she encouraged your interest?”
Andrew stiffened and Bella realized he was offended on her behalf at the suggestion that she might have done something wrong or unbecoming for a lady. That fact caused her a confused mixture of pleasure and embarrassment. “Mama, I am certain that Mr. Hunter meant no insult. He merely—”
But Andrew’s expression had hardened. A smile curved his lips, but Bella knew him well enough to know there was no warmth in the gesture. He went to her mother and took her elbow.
“As a woman of the world, Mrs. O’Rourke, I am confident that you know how quickly a man’s interest can be engaged.” He began leading her toward the door, ignoring the expression of astonishment on her mother’s face. “Miss Isabella is easily the most comely of your daughters, so I know you will not be surprised when I tell you that she turns heads wherever she goes. Most certainly mine.”
“Well, I—”
“But Miss Isabella and I must have a little time together to determine if we ‘suit.’”
“But your name is not on the list of Lady Vandecamp’s suitable—”
“And I shall be pleased to address myself to Lady Vandecamp at her earliest convenience. For the moment, however—” he paused to open the door and assist her mother into the passageway “—Miss Isabella and I have need of private conversation. I give you my oath that nothing untoward will take place. Should I misbehave, she can call to you.”
“See here—”
> “Thank you so much for understanding.” And he closed the door in her face.
Bella covered her mouth to muffle her nearly hysterical giggle. “Oh, dear. I am so sorry for that.”
He led her away from the door and lowered his voice. “I will handle your mother, Bella. Do not give her another thought.”
She glanced back at the closed door, half expecting her mother to burst in and demand that Andrew leave at once. Instead, there was only silence and she could almost envision her mother and sisters with their ears to the door. Yes, he most certainly could handle her mother, and that thought warmed her clear to her toes. “I did not expect you until tomorrow,” she said.
“I had to talk to you. I needed to be certain you and Miss Eugenia were safe and that you would stay at home tonight. Promise me, Bella. Do not go abroad.”
“I have lectured Gina, and she said she will stay at home.” But she had an appointment with Lord Humphries.
“And you, Bella? Will you stay at home?”
Drat! He’d seen through her ploy. “I wish you would not ask me to make promises I cannot keep. You must stop feeling responsible for me.”
He cleared his throat. “I cannot help it. Surely you can appreciate my guilt over misreading your supposed lack of virtue. Had I known…I have never forced a girl before, Bella. I would not have started with you. And last night…”
She felt the heat rising to her cheeks and glanced at the door again. “You did not force me that night at Thackery’s, Andrew. I knew what you were doing, what you wanted, and I said nothing. I meant to, but I was carried away. The things you did…well, I had never felt such things before. I knew I could stop you. I nearly did. But, in the end, I think I wanted it as much as you did.”
“That is the nature of seduction, Bella. I used my knowledge of a woman’s weaknesses to overcome your good sense. You were innocent. You were not thinking clearly.”
“Oh! Why must you contradict everything I say?” She nearly stopped when she saw his jaw tighten and a frown knit faint lines between his brows, but she lowered her voice and forged on. “Despite my behavior in society, I am not of such little consequence that I would allow myself to be swept up and seduced by the first handsome man to come along. Do you think so little of me as that? You must be addlepated!”
“Addlepated?” His dark eyes widened. “Think little of you? From the moment I met you, I have thought of nothing else. Allow me to demonstrate just how I do regard you.”
She held her ground as he stepped closer and pulled her into his arms, his intent clear. “Why do you think I cannot countenance another man kissing you, Bella? Why do you think I am everywhere you go?”
“I thought it was because you disliked me and what I was doing. Because you wanted me to suffer for Mr. McPherson’s death. Now I am not certain.”
“Dear God, I am sorry for that. No, my dear, I follow you because I am captivated by you. No woman has ever engaged my interest so thoroughly. I am possessive of you because I cannot tolerate the thought that you might ever give another man the gift you’ve given me. Though you have every reason to loathe me.”
“I do not loathe you.”
“Listen carefully, Bella. We haven’t much time before your mother’s curiosity gets the best of her. Tomorrow, when this is over, I will come again and we will straighten this mess out. I want you to know that I will always provide for you. You need never worry over your future because of what I’ve done to you—ruining your prospects in such a vile manner.”
“But—”
He bent his head and met her lips in a touch so soft that she might have dreamed it. He moaned and his arms tightened around her. She melded against him and slipped her arms around his neck, growing hot with the memory of last night.
With a muffled curse, he untwined her arms and stepped back mere seconds before the door burst open and her mother rushed in, Lilly and Gina fast on her heels.
“Here now! This is most improper. I must insist that you be chaperoned at all times, Mr. Hunter. At least until Lady Vandecamp has given her approval. And there will be no walks alone in the garden. Put that from your mind at once.”
“As you wish, madam.”
Bella watched as Andrew offered a small bow and skimmed by her mother on his way to the door. Thanks heavens he was gone! Another moment and she would have told him everything—what she’d learned, what Gina had seen and her plans for tonight. But he would have tried to stop her, and she had no intention of stopping so close to her goal.
Chapter Nineteen
Andrew leaned against the doorjamb of Wycliffe’s office, his hand raised to knock. He wished he could wait longer for this particular interview. He’d spent years avoiding it, fooling himself that it would never come. But now, because of Isabella O’Rourke, he knew he had to make a clean slate of his life. Because of her. For her. To be worthy of her. For better or worse, his lies and secrets would end here and now.
He was tired of holding his sins inside, his guilt and his self-loathing. At first he’d told himself that it was for the good of Frederick’s family. That they’d be happier not knowing what had really happened to their son and brother. Then he’d wondered if it was cowardice on his part—an unwillingness to face the consequences of his actions. Whatever the reason, the secret had poisoned him and nearly destroyed him. Prison, even execution, would be better than living with his damning secret another full day.
His only regret was Isabella. He had found the courage to confess because of her, but he would lose her in the bargain. He’d already made arrangements to transfer funds for an annuity to be paid to her. She would not live under reduced circumstances or take the role of poor relation because of what he’d done to her. The only thing that remained was to confess, and to finish his assignment. He took a deep breath and rapped on the door in three sharp knocks.
Wycliffe called entry and Andrew pushed the door open to find Wycliffe returning a stack of papers to a folder and looking up. “Come in and sit down, Hunter. Do not just stand there looking like you’ve lost your puppy.”
Andrew grinned in spite of himself. He closed the door but he didn’t want to sit. Restlessness, guilt and the old habit of standing at attention while addressing his commanding officer kept him standing.
“I gather you’ve got news,” Wycliffe said.
“As we thought, the Thirteenth Sabbath is tonight. It will take place somewhere in Mayfair. Devlin Farrell is finding the exact place and time. He will have that information for me by tonight and I will pass it along to you.”
“Excellent. I will alert the watch and call in my agents. The moment you send me word, I will dispatch them and—”
“I’d rather you didn’t. The ritual will not begin until midnight or after. If they should get wind of anything unusual, or notice your men in the area, I suspect they’ll either call it off or find another location. I am assuming you want to catch those responsible, not just those you might cast your net around in a general rout?”
Wycliffe sat back in his chair and nodded.
“Then I think our only choice is to allow the ritual to get underway before sending the charleys in. Catching those responsible while in the act should tell us not just who is involved, but who is in charge. I’d give a year off my life to know who that bastard is.”
“That is risky, Hunter. If they’ve got themselves another sacrifice, and if the timing isn’t right…”
“I’ll take Jamie and Charlie with me. Pistols and knives in our boots.”
“How will we know when to enter?”
“Get me a whistle from the watch. Keep your men hidden until you hear it.”
“That should work. But I do not think I should call the entire watch. We need to keep this on the hush. The more people who know, the more likely word will get out.”
Andrew rubbed his arm. Edwards had replaced the old bandage this morning and the bindings were a little snug. “I wish I knew how many will be there. I am guessing between twelve and twenty.
I have no fear that my brothers and I could hold that many at bay until the watch arrives. We will have the element of surprise on our side. But if there is a delay—”
“There won’t be.”
He prayed Wycliffe was right, or there’d be three fewer Hunters in London come dawn tomorrow.
“I am curious, Hunter. Why have you not involved Humphries in this? Seems the sort of thing that would be right up his alley.”
“You said you chose me because my friends were likely to know something, and that I should be discreet. As it turns out, you were right. I suspect some of them are in it up to their teeth.”
“Yet your brothers—”
“Charlie and Jamie got caught up in the last Sabbath with me but they don’t know the particulars. I trust them with my life.”
“That’s good enough for me. You’ve always been an excellent judge of character.”
Even the thought of that made Andrew squirm. Had he truly been a good judge of character, perhaps Wycliffe’s brother would be alive today.
He squared his shoulders and stood a little straighter. “As to that, Lord Wycliffe, I believe you are wrong. I’ve made many mistakes. Fatal mistakes.”
Wycliffe blinked, a telling trait. He could not know what was coming, but he would know it was going to be unpleasant. “You have something to say, Hunter?”
“Long overdue.”
Wycliffe emitted a sigh so deep that Andrew almost lost heart. “I think I know what you want to say, and it really isn’t necessary.”
“You haven’t any idea, sir. And, believe me, it is necessary. I only hope that when I am done, you will allow me to finish this assignment before you—”
“For God’s sake, Hunter! Spit it out, will you?”
Years of pain and guilt tightened his throat and twisted his stomach, threatening to hold back the words that would surely condemn him. They’d been a constant albatross, and harder to shed than he’d thought. “I killed your brother.”
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