by C. J. Archer
A telegram from Frakingham thwarted the following day's plans. Not that I had any. I was alone and bored in the confines of the house. I even offered to polish the silver to keep my hands occupied and my thoughts from straying to Quin. Watkins refused, and seemed offended that I would want to do something as menial as polishing silver, so I spent the morning in the sitting room, trying to sew and worrying about Quin. Had he found Edith Myer yet? Even if he had, it could be some time before I'd know, as he wouldn't be able to tell me himself. He would have returned to Purgatory.
Jack's telegram was a welcome relief from my boredom. Until I read it.
Edith Myer here, it said. Sylvia captured. Send St. Clair and the book.
CHAPTER 12
Oh God, oh God. Poor Sylvia. She must be terrified. Was she hurt? Where was Edith holding her?
I gathered my skirts and raced to fetch a hat with a veil that would cover my cheek. I had to find Quin, even if I spent the entire day out looking for him.
I got no further than the bottom of the staircase when an urgent knock at the door startled me. My nerves were still somewhat jangly after the ordeal with Alwyn. I debated whether to answer it myself when Watkins sailed past me and opened the door.
"Samuel!" I blurted out when I spotted him on the doorstep. "Come in!"
Charity and Tommy entered with him and I hugged each of them in turn. They eyed me with concern. Or rather, eyed my cheek.
"Oh, Cara," Charity said, offering me another embrace. "You poor thing."
"Yes, yes." I waved away her sympathy. "There are more pressing matters to worry about than the state of my face."
Samuel grunted. "If I'd been here I would have thrashed Alwyn."
"There was no need. Quin did enough thrashing for everybody."
Samuel looked quite distressed that he'd not been here to help. I laid a hand on his arm. "You saved Charity from harm. Both of you," I added for Tommy's benefit. "Squirreling her away was the best thing you could have done under the circumstances. I had the servants and my two champions here to protect me."
"Two?" Charity echoed.
"Nathaniel and Quin arrived at the same time."
"Nathaniel?" Her small smile was meant as encouragement but I ignored it. Now was not the time.
Tommy's lips flattened into a grim line. "I should have come here as soon as Gladstone mentioned Alwyn's threat."
I touched his good hand. The other hung limply at his side. "Something has happened at Frakingham."
Tommy's face paled. "Sylvia?" he croaked.
I handed him the telegram. Charity and Samuel leaned in to read it. Charity gasped. She rested a hand on Tommy's back and gave Samuel a worried look. He returned it.
Tommy dropped the slip of paper and spun toward the door.
"Wait!" we all cried.
"I can't," he said. "I have to go there now. She needs me."
"The next train doesn't leave for Harborough until the morning," Samuel said.
Tommy stopped. His shoulders slumped. He pressed his thumb and forefinger into his eyes and groaned.
"We have to find Quin first," I said. If Edith Myer was at Frakingham, it meant Quin hadn't returned to Purgatory.
"How long will that take?" he snapped.
"I'm sure I'll see him today or tonight." Quin would visit me later, to see how I was. I was certain of it.
"I'll be on the first train to Harborough tomorrow whether he's there or not."
"He'll be there," I said as he strode out the door.
Jack's urgent request that we bring Quin wasn't going to present a problem. It was bringing the book that could be our downfall and see Sylvia harmed…or worse.
***
The berth in the first class carriage was uncomfortable; not only because it was a tight fit, with four long-legged males and myself, but also because of the tension between Quin and de Mordaunt. They sat opposite one another, their mutual hatred barely controlled as their glares became increasingly fierce as the journey stretched before us.
De Mordaunt had initially been reluctant to leave the platform, even as passengers streamed past him and climbed aboard. He eyed the steaming engine as if it would flick its forked tongue at him.
"Afraid?" Quin had muttered as he stood behind him, arms crossed.
De Mordaunt huffed and stepped through the door.
A satisfied smirk settled on Quin's lips.
"I seem to recall someone else being hesitant the first time he saw a train," I said, coming up beside him.
"Hesitant is not the same as afraid. I was merely curious as to its machinations."
I slipped my arm through his. "Try not to mock him. It'll be a very long journey if you two start fighting one another. Nor do I think the conductor will appreciate it."
"I'm not mocking. The man is a rat."
"Now, now. That's not very fair to rats."
He offered me his hand and I took it, but he didn't help me aboard. "Will you reconsider, Cara?"
"No."
"Not even if I say please?"
I shook my head. "I have to come. Sylvia needs me, and Hannah too."
"Sylvia has Dawson and Hannah has Langley. They don't need you."
I peered up at him through my veil and sighed. "I need you, Quin. I suspect this will be resolved soon, one way or another, and I want to be there when you leave."
It was true, but not the entire truth. I also wanted to be there in case Myer decided to go through the portal and retrieve the book. Whether the administrators would give it up easily was another matter entirely. I didn't see that they had much of a choice—the book belonged here, not in Purgatory. If I could get my hands on it somehow, I could use it to keep Quin in this realm.
It was a slim chance, but a chance nevertheless. When Quin had come to me the previous night, we'd eaten dinner at Verrey's in Regent Street, with Samuel, Tommy and Charity, and discussed the situation at length. Although Jack's telegram hadn't said it in so many words, we'd come to the conclusion that Edith was demanding the book in exchange for Sylvia's life. It was a somber thought that blanketed our little party all evening.
Samuel and Charity had decided to remain behind in London, while Tommy, Quin and I joined Myer and de Mordaunt. Quin had urged me to reconsider once we were alone, but I hadn't backed down, even when his temper rose. I was determined to go to Freak House too. He seemed more accepting of my decision this morning as we traveled to the station where we met the others. Even so, I withdrew my hand and stepped into the carriage quickly, in case he tried to block my entry.
I settled on the seat beside Tommy, and Quin occupied the space on my other side, with de Mordaunt and Myer opposite. The two otherworldly beings glared at one another and refused to move their knees to give the other space.
It was going to be a long journey.
The whistle blew and the stationmaster shouted at the people on the platform to stand back. The train jolted forward. De Mordaunt's fingers dug into the leather seat on either side of his thighs.
Quin grunted in what sounded like a smug laugh.
"It's more comfortable than horseback," I assured de Mordaunt. "And faster. We'll be there mid-afternoon."
He let go of the seat, but didn't acknowledge that I'd spoken. The man was an ill-mannered toad. I wondered if he'd been like that during his lifetime or if it was a trait he'd developed after his death, alone in his Purgatory dungeon.
"So, what is our plan?" Myer looked first at Quin then de Mordaunt.
"Kill her," de Mordaunt said with a shrug.
"Send her back through the portal," Quin said over the top of him.
Myer flicked his gaze between them. "Those are hardly plans. How do you propose to send her back, or kill her?"
"I cannot form that plan until we assess the situation," Quin said. "We'll do whatever we can to draw the demon away from Miss Langley without her being harmed." He spoke to Tommy as he said it, and Tommy gave him a firm, if somewhat grim, nod.
De Mordaunt rolled his e
yes. "It would be easier if we disregarded the girl—"
"Disregarded!" I cried.
"Her safety is our priority," Quin said tightly.
Tommy sat silently in the corner, his cold glare on de Mordaunt's throat as if he were contemplating slicing through it with the knife I suspected he had tucked away somewhere on his person.
Myer nodded as he stared out the window. "Hopefully Miss Langley won't be harmed, although she's not the brightest girl. She mustn't be to have gotten herself kidnapped."
I laid a hand on Tommy's arm in the hope that would keep him calm. "At least she didn't aid a demon in committing all manner of awful crimes and then marry her," I shot back.
Myer turned a withering glare onto me that lasted so long I began to worry that he might hypnotize me and force me to apologize, or worse. Fortunately, he merely turned back to the window and watched the back fences behind a long row of houses whipping past.
"Women." De Mordaunt snorted. "The world would be a better place without their meddling."
"The world would be empty of human beings without us," I snapped. "Besides, is Edith even female?"
"Of course she is!" Myer spluttered. He flattened his tie and stretched his reddening neck above his collar.
"She must be a woman," de Mordaunt went on. "Look at all the trouble she's caused."
"It's not only women who cause trouble," Quin growled.
De Mordaunt's top lip curled into a sneer. "No?" He looked pointedly at me. "You're soft, St. Clair. You still fancy yourself champion of the ladies. If only your wife had fallen for it as easily as all the others."
Quin tensed but did not move. He had more control than me. If I’d thought I could best de Mordaunt, I would have thumped him.
"If only she hadn't encouraged Guy," he went on
Quin's hand curled into a fist on the seat between us. I inched my fingers closer until I was touching it. Tommy and Myer both stared out the window, pretending not to hear.
While Quin's eyes were hard, his lips had kicked up in one corner. It wasn't quite a smile, but it was unexpected. "If you want me to defend Maria's honor, you will have to do better than that."
De Mordaunt matched Quin's not-quite-a-smile with a more sinister version of his own. "Her honor isn't worth defending. Guy, however, was worth a hundred of you."
Quin held his gaze a few moments then lowered it. I frowned at the capitulation.
"They will be singing his praises in Heaven for eternity." De Mordaunt had turned a little toward Myer and his voice had become wistful and much less caustic. That surprised me. It seemed he had cared for Quin's brother and respected him; perhaps admired him. In my mind, that made it even more terrible that he'd orchestrated Guy's downfall by using Maria's body to seduce him.
"He was the best of men," De Mordaunt's voice softened further. "A fierce, courageous knight in battle, a master swordsman. I once saw him fell a dozen men on his own with nothing but a sword in one hand and a mace in the other."
Hearing of Guy's prowess only confirmed that he had allowed Quin to kill him on the battlefield. What a cowardly act. How could he not have known it would condemn his brother to a life—and afterlife—filled with guilt? I supposed he didn't suspect Quin would last long in battle—which he didn't—and knew nothing about the afterlife. Even if he had, he could never have suspected Quin would end up in Purgatory, condemned by the weight of that guilt.
I glanced at Quin. He stared back at de Mordaunt as if he were seeing something in him for the first time. I suspected de Mordaunt had never voiced his feelings about Guy before.
"He was the noblest, most loyal subject," de Mordaunt went on. "The king loved him above all others. Even more than you." He angled his chin at Quin.
Still Quin didn't speak. He seemed to be thinking, perhaps lost in the fond memories of his brother too.
"If he'd been given Maria's hand like he wanted—begged—she would not have betrayed him."
Quin stirred. "You knew her not at all if you believe that."
"I hope you rot in Hell for killing the man who meant more to me than mere friend," de Mordaunt snarled. "You do not deserve to be here, even for a day, an hour, enjoying the fleshly delights offered by the whores."
I slammed my arm across Quin's chest. He inched forward, but didn't push me away. "Don't," I whispered, leaning into him. "You'll be thrown off the train." I wasn't sure how anyone could get Quin to leave, but it wasn't worth the risk.
He sat there as rigid as a stone pillar, anger vibrating off him. It wasn't fair that de Mordaunt could get away with saying those things to him, and I felt somewhat guilty that he held himself in check because I wished it. When Quin remained silent, albeit seething, I addressed de Mordaunt.
"When Quin told me the story of what happened, I wondered why you did what you did. Of course, you couldn't have foreseen that Guy would give up his life to Quin out of remorse, but now I at least understand your motives."
"Guy give up? He wouldn't. He was too strong, too proud to lay down his life. He liked living. That prick murdered Guy." He nodded at Quin. "Out of jealousy."
"No. Quin wasn't the jealous one. Hurt, yes, but not jealous."
"What are talking about?"
"You were the jealous one."
"Of Maria?" He snorted. "Stupid girl, stay out of matters that don't concern you."
"This matter does concern me." I was aware that I was baring my teeth and I must look like a wild animal, with my face bruised, but I didn't care. If Quin wouldn't—couldn't—defend himself, then I would do it for him. "And I understand more than you think. You were jealous, but not of Maria and Guy's infatuation with her. You were jealous of Guy's love for his brother."
Quin's chest expanded with his sharp intake of breath. He was watching me openly, but I kept my gaze on de Mordaunt, his face twisted with ugly rage.
"You know nothing," de Mordaunt bit off before looking away. "You're only a woman, and a primitive one at that."
Quin's hand came down over mine, warm and reassuring. I blinked at him and he offered me a weak smile. His thumb stroked my knuckles and his left eyebrow lifted in question. I nodded. I was all right. De Mordaunt's words were just that—words. I could bat those away much easier than a fist.
Myer and Tommy both shifted uncomfortably, reminding me that we had witnesses. Neither of them knew the story of Quin's death, and I suspected I would tell Tommy and the others later, but not Myer. Some things should only be shared with trusted friends.
"Women are always causing problems," de Mordaunt muttered. I was about to tell him to stop voicing his ridiculous opinions when he added, "A man would not have allowed himself to get caught and used as a hostage."
Tommy leapt to his feet and slammed his fist into de Mordaunt's jaw before I had time to blink. De Mordaunt's head jerked back and hit the wall with a resounding thud. He slowly, slowly looked forward again and gave Tommy a slick, vile smile.
Then he lunged for him.
But Quin was faster. They clashed like two giants, their bodies slamming into one another. De Mordaunt tried to push Quin out of the way but he didn't budge. The close confines of the berth meant there was very little room for swinging fists or wrestling one another into submission. Quin, realizing this, grabbed de Mordaunt's shoulders and smashed his forehead into his nose. De Mordaunt sank onto the seat and his eyes rolled up into his head. Blood trickled from his right nostril. Quin stood over him. He may have been dressed like a gentleman, but he looked every bit the avenging warrior at that moment, as the hard planes of his face settled in determined lines.
The door slid open and the conductor took in the scene, his hand out to receive our tickets. He eyed Quin warily and swallowed loudly. "Is everything all right, ma'am?"
"Of course," I said. "Our friend suffers from nose bleeds. Mr. St. Clair here was just making him more comfortable." I touched Quin's elbow and he sat.
De Mordaunt seemed to have recovered quickly from the blow. He wiped the blood away with his sleeve
and gave Quin a glare that could have pierced steel.
"Er, tickets, please." The conductor punched our tickets then backed out of the berth, sliding the door closed again.
"No more fighting," I hissed, mostly at de Mordaunt. "If you get thrown off the train, you'll have to find another way there. Do you understand?"
De Mordaunt simply wiped his nose again, smearing more blood on his jacket sleeve.
"He understands," Myer said quickly, a nervous squeak to his voice. "We haven't got time for tomfoolery."
"In fact, I suggest you don't speak at all for the remainder of the journey, Mr. de Mordaunt. Whenever you open your mouth, someone wants to silence you."
He didn't acknowledge me, which wasn't surprising. The man held no respect for me, or for women in general. He did, however, stay silent for the remainder of the journey, so perhaps my reasoning sank through his thick skull after all.
We arrived in Harborough, where the Frakingham driver, Fray, greeted us in the large clarence, pulled by the two strongest horses in the stables.
"What do you know of the situation at the house?" Tommy asked him.
"Not overmuch, Mr. Dawson," Fray said, his whiskers drooping with his frown. "But it's not good. Not good at all."
Tommy sat at the front with the driver and our small amount of luggage was strapped to the roof for the short journey. We sped along and I wondered if our swiftness was Tommy's influence, urging Fray to get there faster.
Tommy jumped down from the seat before the clarence rolled to a full stop in the Frakingham drive. Quin, de Mordaunt and I followed. Myer hung back in the cabin, only exiting once he saw that his wife didn't run out of the house like a madwoman to attack him.
"We will assess the situation," Quin said to me. "Go find Hannah and stay with Mr. Langley. Bollard will keep watch, if he's not already. I suspect Dawson will want to come with us."
"And do what? If Edith wants the book…what can be done?" I didn't like hearing the hopeless whine in my voice, but it was difficult not to feel a sense of overwhelming hopelessness at the situation.
"Myer, go into the portal and retrieve the book."
Myer halted and we all stopped too, waiting. "Are you mad?" he spluttered. "We can't give her the book! She'll use it to destroy the portal and then we'll never send her back."
