“Sure, why not? Just don’t slow me down.”
“I broke my arm, not my leg, Jack.” Marcus said in his usual defensive tone. “Besides, it’s fully-healed now.” He extended the limb with only a slight grimace.
“I’ll keep searching the photos.” Winston said, barely glancing up.
Jackson and Marcus walked toward the village at a brisk pace. It was a good distance, nearly two miles, and neither wanted to have to travel the road in the dark. Not with mysterious accidents befalling Bradley men.
“I know it’s been a while, but tell me about Father’s death and the other accidents again.” Jackson requested of his brother. “Maybe we missed something. How did you come to the conclusion that they weren’t just mishaps?”
Marcus cleared his throat and looked around to make sure they weren’t being followed and that no one might overhear their conversation.
“At first, we didn’t even think about it. Father got ill suddenly and died pretty quickly after that. Of course, he was fairly old so it didn’t seem too out of the ordinary, except that he’d always been healthy as a horse. But we thought it was just his time. Then Winston’s eldest son, Edward, was out riding and the saddle buckle tore and he had a nasty spill that could have killed a weaker boy, but he fell just right and barely had a scratch on him. The seams that came apart looked like wear and tear, so nobody thought much about it, except the groom kept insisting that it had been in perfect condition when he had checked several days before. Of course, we assumed the groom was just worried about being let go.
“But then there was my accident. That’s when Winston and I decided that it was just too coincidental and we went back and started asking questions about all three incidents. I thought Winston already told you all this.” Marcus paused to question Jack.
“I wanted to hear your version. After all, you were there when one of these accidents actually happened. Maybe you saw or heard something that you forgot before.”
“It can’t hurt to go over it again, I suppose.” Marcus continued his story. “Anyway, we asked the doctor about Father later, when we finally suspected foul play and he said if he’d known we were concerned about treachery he would have mentioned sooner what had been bothering him about the earl’s death. The doctor thought it odd that Father hadn’t had any symptoms leading up to the sickness and also that some of the things he noticed on the body after death resembled a poisoning he’d once seen. But he discounted it since he’d known Father and he didn’t believe he had any enemies and was on pretty good terms with Winston. Of course, we spoke to the groom again and he was adamant that the saddle strap was sound just days before Edward’s fall.
“And then there was my accident. A hat pin in the horse blanket. You really can’t get much more obvious than that. Such a thing can’t really be attributed to error. It had to be put there purposely. Someone wanted me either dead or badly injured, and I’m betting on dead.” Marcus rubbed his shoulder as if the memory brought back the original pain from the fall.
They arrived in the village and headed to the tavern. Jackson asked the barkeep if he’d known Clara or her father, and if there was anyone left who’d known the family or where Clara’s sister had gone. Much to his disappointment, the place had changed ownership so there was no one left who had known the family. But several patrons remembered the pretty dark-haired barmaid and one knew the location of her sister, Colleen. Jackson took down the information so he could contact the woman and make sure she was well and knew about the fate of her sister.
Next, the Bradley brothers visited the parish church where the pastor did remember both Jackson and Clara. Father Xavier had been instructed by the earl to deny a marriage ceremony to the two and had secretly sent them off to a neighboring village to marry.
“I always wondered what had happened to the two of you. I am sorry to hear that Clara is no longer of this world. But I know she is in heaven, as all angels in the flesh become angels in the hereafter.”
Jack thanked the priest and spent a moment in quiet conversation with the old gentleman. He came away with damp eyes but a lighter soul.
“Let’s go home, Marcus.” Jackson patted his brother’s good shoulder and they headed back down the road toward the Bradley estate.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” Marcus asked his younger brother, stopping and forcing Jack to look at him.
Jackson was quiet for a moment and looked past Marcus into the deepening shadows of the day. “It’s enough for now,” he finally responded.
“Then home it is, little brother.”
“Thank you for the company, today, Marcus.” Jack said quietly. “I didn’t realize that I wanted someone here with me, to keep me grounded.”
“Good to know you finally need family, Jack.” Marcus said. Jack could hear the wistfulness in his brother’s voice as he continued. “These last ten years, with you in America, we thought we’d never see you again. I always wondered if it was Clara who kept you away. But Winston said it was her idea to have you come home.”
“Yes, she wanted me to make peace with Father, but it was too late for that.”
“Well, either way, I’m grateful to her.” Marcus smiled and they walked the rest of the way in silence.
CHAPTER NINE
Now fully immersed in her Madame Lou persona, Cassiopeia Blakemore was communicating with several souls at once. Every tarot card she turned over was one bad thing after another. Between the Tower and all those Swords, she really didn’t want to look at another one.
Cassie couldn’t believe what a disaster this match was turning out to be. Jack and Adeline hadn’t seen each other in months and neither one of the mortal beings had any intention of keeping their promises to Clara and seek her out in London to learn more. And now Cassie knew from communing with his dead father that Jack’s life was in danger.
To make matters even worse, Adeline’s long dead mother was nowhere to be found and it was clear that her will over the outcome would be the most influential. Without Mrs. James’s blessing, the match of these two would end in heartache instead of joy.
Gunshots echoed through the gathering dusk, sending Jackson and Marcus running to find cover.
“Were you hit?” Jack asked his brother while checking his own condition.
“I’m fine, and you?”
“Still in one piece.” Jack was out of breath and panting hard as he scanned the tree line. “Did you see anyone? I think it came from the south.”
“I saw the flash of gunpowder in that direction.” Marcus pointed southwest. “But I couldn’t see anyone. Do you think they’re still out there?”
“I’m not sure I want to find out. Someone really wants us dead, brother, and it looks like they’ve given up on the whole accident façade.” Jack looked back in the direction the shots had come from, trying to decide the best way to proceed. “We can take the deer trail the rest of the way back to the house. There is plenty of foliage for cover.”
“Let’s move then, before whoever is out there figures out we have gone.” Marcus stood cautiously and headed in the direction of Basildon Park.
Keeping to the shadows and not engaging in any further conversation, they made it back to the house several hours after darkness had fallen. Winston was waiting for them when they arrived.
“Where the hell have you been? I almost sent a search party out to find you. You’d better not have been sitting warm and drunk in the tavern.”
Marcus explained what had happened on the road, sending Winston to order some of his retainers to go search the area at first light and find out what they could.
“I could use that brew that we didn’t get in town,” Marcus said still looking shaken.
“I think we could all use something stronger than ale.” Winston led the men to his study.
“Have you figured out which photo we need to concentrate on?” Jack asked his brother as he poured them all some of Winston’s finest scotch.
“No, and I’m no longer
even sure it is the right album.” Winston raked his hand through his salt and pepper hair with one hand. “Hell, I don’t know if a picture even has anything to do with this. I’m just grasping at straws and this new development—someone shooting at you? Maybe this isn’t about a male relative but just plain old revenge. And if that’s the case, I can think of dozens of men we’ve angered over the years. Father made enemies in the House of Lords, as all of them have. I’ve done the same. No one agrees on politics all the time, so this could literally be any crazed person targeting our family and our lineage. Someone is out there trying to eliminate our entire family tree.”
“Calm down, Winnie. We need to think this through.” Jack said, pacing. “We don’t even know for certain that those shots were meant for me and Marcus, or if it was just some poacher warning us away.”
“I’m certain.” Marcus said nursing his drink. “Speaking from experience.”
“Maybe I should cancel the party.” Winston said, pacing now. “I don’t know how we can invite anyone to the property, not knowing if it’s even safe.”
“It’s only unsafe for the Bradley men.” Jack said looking between his brothers. “It might actually be good to have some sort of distraction going on here. Keep whoever is doing this away while we try to figure it out.”
“I think we need someone to stand watch for a few nights,” Marcus proposed, “just in case this lunatic gets some idea about burning the place down while we are all asleep.”
“I don’t think we are in much danger of that, since the place is mostly solid stone, but a watchman is good idea.” Winston agreed.
“I’ll take the first guard tonight.” Jackson said, setting his scotch down still half-full. “I won’t be able to sleep a wink anyway. You two get some rest, and we’ll find more help tomorrow.”
Grumbling a bit about leaving baby brother Jackie alone, the two older Bradley men finally found their beds.
Jackson grabbed a warm coat, found a hunting rifle, and began his sentry duty over the huge house. Parts of it a hundred or more years ago had probably been a fortress. He climbed up to the roof and used some of the old medieval battlements that hadn’t crumbled to dust to scan the fields and trees surrounding the structure.
He thought how much Clara would have hated that he might be in danger and he was glad he didn’t have to put her through that. The only good thing to come out of this situation was that it served to keep his mind off of his long, lonely, and empty future. He had been trying to decide what he should do about their home that they’d shared in New York. Jackson was sure his partner would not be opposed to him moving back to England and running an office from this side of the Atlantic. They had discussed the possibility the year before, as it would make expansion easier. But that was before Jack had dreaded going back to an empty house, and he’d resisted the idea. However, now it sounded like an opportunity to start over away from all those painful memories. Jackson had finally decided he wanted to stay here, close to his brothers and their families. It would be nice to be an uncle to his nieces and nephews and spend time at home again. He would write to his partner tomorrow and see if he was still open to the idea.
Jack resisted the thought that it would also mean that he might—in the course of normal socializing—have an opportunity to encounter Adeline again, as well. Although he could admit that he longed to see her, he couldn’t quite convince himself it was solely in the context of renewing their friendship; at least not when he allowed himself to remember that kiss. Innocent as it had been, it still burned in his memory and now with none of the guilt that had been present at the time.
Jack sighed, and a small piece of the heavy burden he carried was now lifted from his shoulders. If only all of his problems could be solved so easily. But now he needed to turn his attention to the matter at hand. Someone was attempting the annihilation of his entire family and he was determined to find them, and either bring them to justice or stop them cold.
* * *
“You can’t go out unchaperoned, Miss.” Emily was reluctantly helping Adeline dress in her plain clothes that had probably belonged to some shop girl at an earlier date. “This is London and you don’t know your way about. Besides, your accent will give you away in an instant as an American and who knows what kind of trouble that alone might land you in.”
“Fine, then you will accompany me.” Addie wasn’t about to give up on finding some cause to join. She was already quite bored with the day to day schedule of a lady, and she felt she would go mad if she didn’t find some useful employment for herself. “But you must wait in the hackney while I investigate this employment establishment. You do not look as if you are seeking work that involves any labor.”
Adeline checked her appearance again. She had gone to great lengths to disguise her own privileged upbringing by pulling her hair back in a simple bun and donning the plain black skirt, simple shirtwaist, and unadorned hat.
Mr. Phillips had already found a cab, and it was waiting out behind the mews instead of in front of the mansion. It wouldn’t do for any of their neighbors to see her leaving the house dressed like a servant or a shop girl. At least the staff had been discreet about her requests. It seemed that she was making progress with their trusting her.
Leaving through the kitchen, Mrs. Canter gave her a look of disapproval, but didn’t try to stop them. “See that you take care proper care of the lady, Stone, or Mr. Phillips will have your head.”
Adeline pulled out the piece of paper that Mr. Phillips had slipped onto her morning tray of hot chocolate and examined the address again. She wasn’t familiar with that part of London, which was all the better, as far as she was concerned, since she didn’t want to be seen by any of the ladies she’d met recently. With Emily disapproving the whole way there, they eventually made their way to Tottenham Court Road.
The hackney stopped at a shop front that said Ladies’ Employment Agency. Oh, dear, Adeline thought realizing that Mr. Phillips had jumped to the entirely incorrect conclusion when she had asked him where one might find work. Apparently, he’d believed that she was the one seeking a position. Although, Adeline couldn’t imagine what had given him such an odd notion, unless he thought Father was withholding funds for some unknown reason.
Addie was about to tell the driver to take her back home when she noticed the tea shop next door. The name painted on the window in elaborate gold leaf letters was somehow familiar to her. Madame Lou’s Tea and Fortune Shoppe. And then she knew where she’d heard the name before—Clara! This must be the spiritualist or medium that Clara had mentioned once upon a time.
Wasn’t that an amazing coincidence? Well, since she was already here and the shop looked open, Adeline supposed there was no harm in a quick visit just to see what it was all about.
“Wait here for me,” she told Emily, stepping out of the buggy. “I’ll only be a few minutes. Then we can go find somewhere to get some lunch.”
Addie stepped into the shop and noticed right away that there was an interesting smell of some sort. Incense, maybe? And there was an old gypsy sitting near the back at one of the silk- covered tables. The woman was covered in scarves from head to toe that shimmered and made some sort of musical sound as she lifted her arm and beckoned her to move closer.
“Come, sit my dear,” she said, coaxing Addie further into the shop.
“I—I just wanted to see what this was.” She moved forward slowly, not sure she should encourage the woman. “My friend, Clara Bradley asked me to come visit with a Madame Lou in London. Is that you?”
“Yes, yes, come and sit with me. Let me get a good look at you. You are just as lovely as Clara told me.” The woman’s voice was quiet and a bit shaky, as if she might be a hundred years old.
“Oh, that’s impossible.” Adeline stopped her progress forward, unsure what to think now. “Clara only found out about you a few days before she died.”
“I’m a psychic, dearie, and a medium. Clara and I have been talking, now that she has pas
sed to the other side.”
“No, no, I don’t believe in that sort of thing. You must have known Clara before she left England. This must be some sort of swindle you are planning. I’ve heard stories about this sort of thing. I remember those Fox sisters were found out to have committed terrible fraud.” Adeline turned on her heel, ready to leave without another word, but something in her memory stopped her and she turned back around.
“But, Clara didn’t know you. She said as much.” Moving forward again, slowly, Addie lowered onto one of the chairs and sat staring at Madame Lou. “No, it was your cousin back in America who Clara had been seeking advice from. Oh, I remember it all now. But I just thought Clara was making up a story to make her feel better about dying. I didn’t really believe any of that psychic nonsense.”
“She knows.” Madame Lou said offering Adeline some tea from a fresh pot. “Sugar and cream is what she told me you liked.”
Addie nodded, taking the offered cup and holding it as if it could somehow help her to understand what was happening.
“The poor woman has been working very hard to bring you to me, but you’ve not listened to any of her pleas.” The medium made a sound of disapproval, as if Addie was a child who hadn’t listened to her parent. “I didn’t even expect you here today until a few minutes ago when she realized where your butler had sent you. Fate, if you are a believer. A lucky misunderstanding, if you aren’t.”
“Clara told you I was coming? But, she is dead.” Addie felt the blood drain from her face.
“Medium,” Madame Lou said pointing to herself. “Speaking to the dearly departed is what we do.”
“Oh, dear, oh dear. But I don’t believe in that sort of thing.”
“Most don’t, until they experience it firsthand. Which is what you are about to do. Give me your hand, Miss James. Clara has much to say, but she is worried that you will run away.” Madame Lou held out a hand that was covered in a black half-glove and various jeweled rings.
Heaven Bound (A Blakemore Family Book: Madame Lou Series Book 2) Page 12
