Wycliffe didn’t even blink this time. He stood and went to his window to look out at the street, bathed in late-afternoon sunshine.
Andrew braced himself for a scathing denouncement or a spate of angry curses and questions, but Wycliffe’s words, when they came, were soft and thoughtful.
“I know. I’ve always known.”
He stared in stunned disbelief as Wycliffe turned back to him. “How…”
“The family knew what Frederick was. We always knew, though we never spoke it aloud. We hoped that sending him away to war would mature him. Perhaps awaken some virtue or strength of character in him.”
“He—”
“He was the baby of the family, you see. Everyone from our mother to the maid spoilt him shamelessly. I doubt he’d ever heard the word no until he was sent off to school.”
Andrew sat and stared at his hands, clenched from the tension in his muscles. “Why did you not tell me?”
“You were his commanding officer. I assigned him to you because I knew you would make a man of him or die trying. He admired you, you know. He fancied you were friends.”
Andrew groaned. “We were, sir. Until we could not be.”
“I blame myself, you see.” Wycliffe turned and faced him. “I gave you the worst assignments, the most dangerous posts, knowing you were equal to them and hoping Frederick would learn from your example. When I sent you out that last time…our intelligence was faulty. I did not realize what you’d be facing, or I’d have sent the whole damn regiment.”
“The slaughter…the rage…” Andrew shook his head, remembering. “I had never seen anything like it before. None of us were prepared.”
“War is never a pretty thing, Hunter. It either brings out the best or the worst in a man. For Frederick,” He shrugged, leaving the conclusion unspoken.
Andrew closed his eyes, seeing it again as if it were yesterday. “Valle del Fuego.” His voice was raw and, now the worst of his confession was out, he could not stop. “I’ve seldom seen the enemy more savage. And our response was…worse. Frederick fought like a dervish that day. No one could stop him. Even after it was over, after the surrender, he was like one possessed. I called orders to him. Sanders seized his arm to stay him from slaughtering a woman who was standing in her doorway, calling to her child in the street. Frederick sliced his gut open and then finished the woman off. Blood lust. I could not get to him, the bodies were that thick in the streets. Sanders died quickly, but Frederick…still could not stop. I think he had gone mad—killed one too many men or simply seen too much blood. He’d dismissed the human element and only saw them as obstacles, much like a forest to be cut though.”
He opened his eyes and found that Wycliffe’s face had paled. “It was the baby that decided me, sir. The child saw his mother struck and was terrified. He went running to her as she fell. Frederick turned on him. He turned his bayonet on a toddler, sir.”
“So you stopped him the only way you could,” Wycliffe finished.
Andrew’s hands began to shake. “He was my friend. He never should have been on that detail. I should have seen it coming. I should have seen the signs. I should have sent him behind the lines. Instead, I raised my rifle and—”
“You couldn’t have known.”
“I killed a friend and a comrade. I took a life that had been entrusted to me. ’Tis one thing to be killed by the enemy and another by your commanding officer.
“I thought it would be easier for you, for his entire family, to think of him as fallen to the enemy. I pray you will believe that that, and not cowardice or self-interest, is the reason for my long silence. The truth seemed so unnecessarily cruel. I swore that I would never raise my hand against a friend again, and I have kept that vow, but I have lived with the knowledge that it was I who ended Frederick’s life, not an enemy’s sword. That an English court of law would deem my life forfeit for what I’d done.”
“You’re wrong there, Hunter. You did what few men would have the courage and moral fortitude to do. In any case, I would consider it a personal favor if you would refrain from making this confession of yours public. Let sleeping dogs lie.”
Andrew felt lighter, clearer than he had since the war, the burden of the wasted years and crushing guilt lifted from his shoulders. He nodded, but he had his own question. “How did you know what had happened? That it was me?”
“You wore your grief and guilt like a badge. I had no small amount of guilt over the affair, myself. And when I saw what it was doing to you…well, I should have spoken to you, but I suspected you did not want to expose my brother. I, too, believed that to be the best course for the family.”
“What of the charges against me?”
“There will be no charges. It is over, Hunter. The war is over. The ghosts are laid to rest. Let that be an end to it. I would be indebted if you would never speak of this again.”
He got to his feet as Wycliffe sat again.
“Now get on with you, Hunter,” Wycliffe said without looking up. “I’ll be waiting here for your instructions.”
“Aye,” he said as he turned to the door. “By midnight.”
Boxes and boxes of new gowns had arrived from the dressmaker after Andrew had departed. Bella, Gina and Lilly had spent teatime trying them on and admiring one another. Lady V. had selected the colors to be as light and airy as possible without flying in the face of propriety for mourning. Not even the subdued colors had dampened their spirits for long.
After supper was over and Mama had retired to her room, Bella selected a luscious pale-gray silk trimmed in a mulberry Greek key edging for her stop at the Royal Opera House and her meeting later with Lord Humphries. She took time over her toilette, matching mulberry and gray ribbons. She hoped she would, at last, charm Lord Humphries into a kiss.
The clock on her dressing table struck the hour of eight with a soft chime, and Bella swept up the gray silk pelisse she’d laid out. There was not a rain cloud in sight and she would need nothing heavier tonight.
Bella tiptoed down the corridor and knocked softly on Gina’s door. She knocked twice more before she turned the knob and peeked in. The wick of the lamp on her bedside table had been turned low, and Gina was nowhere to be seen. A quick look through Gina’s boxes showed one new gown was missing, and a deeply fringed shawl.
Drat! Gina had gone out to meet her new friends again. She’d sworn! If she hurried, perhaps she could catch Gina at the theater. Bella would throttle her once she was safe.
She braced herself and knocked on Lilly’s door. Her sister opened it quickly and her eyes grew round when she saw how Bella was dressed.
“Where are you going, Bella? Do Mama and Gina know?”
Bella slipped into the room and closed the door. “Gina is gone. She must have left no more than half an hour ago. I am going after her. I fear she may be in danger.”
“What?” Lilly’s eyes rounded in astonishment and tears welled in the blue depths. “Danger? Oh, Bella. Not…not…”
“No! Be calm, Lilly. I think she just went to the theater. I hope to find her there and bring her home. I wanted to tell you because…well, someone should know. Please do not alarm Mama. She would have apoplexy. But…but—”
“What?” Lilly’s fingers bit into Bella’s arm. “Oh, do not frighten me so.”
“If, for some unaccountable reason, Gina and I are not home by morning, please go at once to Lord Wycliffe at the Home Office. He will know what to do.”
“Oh, Bella! What have you and Gina got yourselves into?”
“Nothing. We just…” She sighed. Lilly deserved to know the truth. “We are looking for Cora’s killer. I am afraid Gina may have got in over her head.”
Lilly took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “If there is anything else I can do, you must tell me. Do not concern yourself over me or Mama. Just find Gina and bring her back safely. I shall wait up, Bella. Knock when you are home.”
Bella gave her a quick hug before hurrying down the stairs and onto the street. She h
ailed a passing hackney and was at the Royal Opera House before she could think twice. Alas, there was no sign of Gina or Mr. Henley. Gina must have whisked him away, knowing Bella would not be far behind. Oh, she would give Gina such a good dressing-down when she found her!
Belmonde’s was not far and she walked there, trying to sort things out in her mind. Everything had become so terribly complicated with Gina in the mix. Clearly, she would need help to find her sister. If only she knew how to reach Andrew. Whatever it was he had to do tonight, she thought he would put it aside to help her, if only she could find him. Perhaps Lord Humphries would know how to find him, or their mutual friend, Mr. Henley, and thus, Gina.
Mr. Biddle bowed and took her pelisse. “I have not seen Mr. Hunter this evening, madam.”
“Thank you, Mr. Biddle. I am not certain if he will be coming. I do not plan to be here for long. Could I leave a message for him, should he come?”
“Of course, madam. You will find pen and paper at the desk in the foyer.”
Bella returned to the foyer. She was scribbling a quick note to Andrew, informing him that Gina was missing and asking his help to look for her, when the man himself arrived. He looked startled and not altogether pleased to see her.
He took her arm and led her aside. “Did I not warn you to stay at home tonight?”
“Did I not tell you I must find my sister’s killer?” she countered.
“What can one night mean to you? Let this one pass, and then I shall help you in whatever manner you wish.”
She shook her head. “Lady V. expects me to participate in the engagements she is arranging, or she will send me back to Ireland. Every night is precious to me.”
“Bloody damn hell,” he muttered. Then he gripped both her arms and squeezed. “I do not have time for this tonight, Bella. If I am to accomplish anything, I need to know you are safe at home.”
“And how shall I remain safe at home when Gina is not?”
He blinked and a dark look came over his face. “Where is your sister?” He eased his grip, led her into the main salon and to the nearest alcove, and sat her down. “Tell me what this is about, Bella.”
“Gina has got it into her head that she must help me find Cora’s killer. After you encountered her last night, I thought she would stop. She promised. But tonight when I went to her room, she was gone. I know that she had been invited to meet a group at the Royal Opera House tonight. I went there straightaway, but I was too late. There was no trace of her or Mr. Henley.”
A muscle jumped along Andrew’s jaw. “Henley?”
“He was the one she was supposed to meet.”
He sank to the cushions beside her. “Damn Wycliffe and all his secrets! Bella, listen carefully, because I do not have time to repeat myself. Wycliffe never gave up on finding your sister’s murderer. He only wanted you to believe that so he could use you as bait to find the killer.”
She frowned. “No. He said—”
“He told you a pack of lies. Nearly two weeks ago he enlisted me to keep my eyes and ears open for any activities out of the ordinary. He pointed me toward witches’ Sabbaths or satanic rituals. He said he was trying to solve a string of murders of young women who had either disappeared or whose bodies were found bearing certain markings. Cora was one of those women, though I did not know it then.”
“Satanic rituals?” The horror of such a thing sent a shiver up her spine. To think of Cora at the mercy of such people! “But she had a suitor. Someone who abducted her.”
“Yes. Someone she trusted.” He gripped her hands again, pleading for her to understand. “It was not until you confessed why you were kissing men that I understood your involvement. I’d have told you then, but Wycliffe had insisted upon secrecy. He assured me that he had someone watching you, and that I should protect you, too. Regrettably, I learned this too late to protect you from myself.”
“Then you’ve only known a few days?”
He sighed. “I am sorry, Bella. But you know everything now.”
“How…how many more women are dead?”
“Twelve that we can trace. Before that, we can only guess.”
Her stomach burned and twisted into a knot. “How can you be certain my sister was a part of this?”
“The markings left on her. The things that were done to her. Bella, I have come to believe that Henley has something to do with all this. In fact, I believe there is to be another ritual killing tonight. Friday the thirteenth, and a thirteenth victim. A virgin, our sources tell us.”
“And Gina is with him? Oh!” Suddenly some of the odd things that Gina had told her made some sort of twisted sense. “She said that Mr. Henley took her to a tableau vivant last night, and that a ritual murder was enacted. She said that Mr. Henley had asked her if she was…was virgin.”
The look on Andrew’s face terrified her. There was a wild, almost feral, light in his eyes, and his mouth had distorted into a snarl. “Damn it, Bella! I am taking you home right now.”
“But—”
“Do not quarrel with me. I will win and it will only waste time.”
“But Cora said her killer was dark. And tall. Mr. Henley is neither.”
“But Henley has friends who are. Listen carefully. I only came here to find my brothers. James, I see, is at the tables. I shall collect him and we shall find Charlie and be off. I have a lead as to where and when the ritual will be held. You will only get in the way and slow us down.”
Bella’s mind whirled, trying to think of any argument he would accept or anything she could do that he could not. But he was right. She was in the way. If worrying about her slowed Andrew down or cost Gina her life…“Go! Hurry. Save her, Andrew. I shall see myself home. I will have Biddle summon me a hackney. I will be safe enough.”
He nodded, clearly relieved that she had accepted his terms. “I will come to you the moment I can. If Eugenia comes home in the meantime, keep her there, even if you must knock her over the head. Do you understand?”
“Yes! Now go.”
He pulled her roughly into his arms and kissed her in the way he had the first night they’d met: raw, frantic, hungry. She returned that hunger, desperate for him to stay, and just as desperate for him to go. Then, without another word, he stood and called to his brother, and the two of them left without a backward glance.
Breathless at the revelations, she remained sitting until her trembling stilled. She could not make sense of half of it, but she trusted Andrew to find Gina. There was something else, though. Something nagging at the corners of her mind. Something that she should remember or know.
After a few moments, she stood and smoothed the skirts of her gown, then made her way to the vestibule. Mr. Biddle saw her and wordlessly turned toward the cloak room. At that moment, Lord Humphries entered Belmonde’s. He saw her and his face split in a wide grin.
“I scarcely dared to believe you were here, my dear. I just saw Hunter’s coach pull away as I arrived. I thought you might have gone with him.”
“I…am not feeling well. I was just going home.”
“What a pity.” He took her elbow and turned her back to the main salon. “I hope you will have a glass of wine with me first. It will calm your nerves. Or your stomach. Or whatever it is that ails you.”
“Really, Lord Humphries, I should be going.”
“And so you shall, m’dear. As soon as you’ve had a little glass of wine. I have a special herb that is well known for its calming effect on the stomach.”
She reckoned having a glass of wine was better than making a scene with Lord Humphries and did not protest as he sat her on the banquette and went to fetch them wine. After all, they were in a public place.
Good to his word, he was back in quick time and handed her a glass. “Drink up, Bella. You will feel better within a few minutes.”
She took a sip and wrinkled her nose. “Odd,” she observed.
“Just for the first swallow. It disguises the herb and improves with each sip.”
&n
bsp; Within a few moments, she was feeling better. Her tension eased somewhat and she managed a smile. “Thank you, Lord Humphries. I believe you were correct. I am feeling better. But I really must go on home.”
“Quite. I have an appointment, m’self. Shall we finish our wine and go? I shall give you a ride.”
“Not necessary, My Lord.”
“Dash. I hope we shall become much better acquainted tonight.”
She smiled, thinking how very smooth and charming he was. And then, because of the hint in his words, it occurred to her that he was expecting a kiss. She had been willing to kiss the devil himself for Cora. But now that she’d fallen in love with Andrew Hunter, it was too late.
Another swallow of wine for courage and then she looked up into dark eyes that were studying her rather too closely. “Lord Humphries, I hope you will understand, but I have, um, decided to mend my ways. I doubt I shall be going abroad much in the future. And I have kissed more men than I should. My reasons…well, shall we just say that things have changed?”
“Oh, I don’t think so, my sweet.” He grinned, and a chill raced through her. “You can mend your ways fast after I have got what all my friends have got. What Drew Hunter had.”
Surely he couldn’t be suggesting that she make love with him? No one knew about that but Andrew and her, and he would never tell. Would he? Or did Humphries mean a kiss?
“Ah, I see you have taken my meaning, Bella.” He leaned closer. “We’ve been on the verge of it for days now, have we not? Are you not in the least bit curious?”
Was she? The wine was corroding her resistance. The subtle relaxation was turning to lethargy. What was wrong with her? She could not even move as Lord Humphries lowered his mouth to hers.
He hesitated the barest fraction of a moment as he slipped his left arm around her and cupped the back of her head with his right hand. Then he pressed his lips against hers. She gave a halfhearted push against his chest in a futile attempt to dislodge him. When she tried to speak, she tasted the bitter wine on his lips, and when he released her, he licked his lips.
Bitter. Bitter? She felt faint. Cold fear spiked in her stomach. It was him! Cora’s killer! “You…you…”
Lord Libertine Page 23
