He crossed the room. As he neared the door, the knock increased to banging.
“Who’s out there?” No telling who could be on the other side when one lived on Canal Street. Wouldn’t be the first time some drunk managed to find their way up here.
“Adele Linley. Please, let me in!”
His heart rate picked up a notch as he turned the knob.
And increased to double-time the second he glimpsed her face. Her eyes stood out in stark contrast to the pallor of her skin—emeralds against a backdrop of snow. She heaved in air.
“What’s happened?” He pulled her inside and closed the door behind them.
“You have to help me.” Despite the semidarkness, there was no mistaking the desperation streaming from her countenance. “It’s Tony. Earlier this evening, he said he owed some money and that if he didn’t pay, something terrible would happen. I tried to get him to stay home, but he wouldn’t listen. You have to go to the Castle, Drew.” Her chin quivered, as if at any moment tears would flood down her cheeks.
No doubt Tony had overplayed his hand and now had a threat hanging over his head. A situation that, in the brutal world of the Canal District, could leave him with more than few bruises—if he were lucky. Unless someone got him away first.
A mix of tension and adrenaline arced through his veins. “Right away. Stay here and lock the door after I leave. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.” The last thing Drew glimpsed was the flash of gratitude in her eyes, as she stood in the hall, hands at her sides, before he closed the door behind him.
His feet became an extension of his mind as he turned them in the direction of the Castle. Hatless and coatless, he probably looked like any of the hundred men and boys who might tread the same path this night. Only he had a mission, one he’d not be deterred from. His strides lengthened, almost at a run, as he closed in upon the building. The one where reckless Tony Linley might even now be facing down danger. And failing in the process.
Adele had come to him. To him. She depended on him, and he would not fail her. He’d see Tony safe. Until then, nothing else mattered.
Bright lights spilled from the windows. Drew shoved past the throng outside the closed back door. In a single movement, he turned the knob and let himself inside. Guests sat at green baize tables, cards splayed in their hands, or gazes focused on spinning roulette wheels.
A crash. An overturned table.
Drew zeroed in.
Tony Linley. Held by the collar by one man, another swinging his fist back.
Drew reached them, seconds after the sickening crack of flesh hitting bone. Yanking the first man away from Tony, he was met by Tony’s shocked gaze, mouth agape like a hooked fish.
Then air left his lungs as stars erupted in his vision. He landed on the floor, fiery pain shooting through his jaw. Sucking in a labored breath, he stood, the room tilting.
Now five men circled Tony.
Someone would be coming soon. For surely, this place didn’t just let fights continue unchecked.
Letting the thought embolden him, Drew tackled the man nearest Tony from behind. The man flailed and toppled. Arms locked around him from somewhere out of his line of sight. A punch struck his rib cage. White-hot pain shot through him as something crunched in his chest. His head made contact with the hard floor.
Tony. He needed to get to Tony. So many men…What was going on? He craned his neck, trying to locate Adele’s brother. Adele. Her brother. She trusted him to keep Tony safe. He could do this. For her.
Her. Adele.
He had to get up.
Mustering every ounce of raw strength, he found his feet and lashed out at the nearest body he could lay hold of. An uppercut to the jaw set the man careening to the ground. Ignoring the agony pulsating through his chest, Drew fought like a wildcat. Dodging punches. Tackling. Kicking. A grunt. Groans. His or someone else’s?
His ears buzzed. Help. Why hadn’t this stopped yet?
With a roar, he lunged. But the man was too quick. In seconds, Drew was airborne. Flying. Falling. Like a sack of potatoes hoisted from a wagon and dropped to the dirt.
He landed, his leg twisting under him, his head striking something sharp and wooden. The edge of the bar? Something cracked, engulfing him in waves of brutal pain that bore him onward, onward. Darkness latched on to him, begging him to succumb. The world swirled.
The darkness won.
Why hadn’t she heard anything? What was taking so long?
Extricating Tony from the fight couldn’t have taken more than ten minutes. And it was nigh on forty-five.
Her skirt an utter mass of wrinkles, Adele stood. Regret nipped sharp claws at her conscience. The instant Drew had raced out the door, the words had hovered on her lips. The ones that revealed her plan and halted him from walking into a fray staged for his own injury.
She pressed her lips together. Better an injured man than a dead one. A sprained wrist or bruised hip would heal in a week or two. A life ended above Niagara Falls could never be rescinded.
But whatever was going on down at Caro Aubrey’s Castle was taking entirely too long. And she would know the reason why.
“Can I get you anything? I’m going to step out for a few minutes.” Adele glanced at Hope. The girl’s eyes had widened with concern when Adele told her where Drew had gone. Not just for Drew, the girl had actually been worried for Tony also.
“What states of fretfulness these brothers of ours give us,” she’d said.
Adele couldn’t agree more. Though it wasn’t anxiety for her brother that made her twist her skirt and dart her gaze to the door every other minute.
“Are you sure it’s safe? The streets at night can be dangerous. Or so my brother tells me.” What a life Hope must lead, viewing the world secondhand, her only vistas those others painted for her.
Somehow, someday, Adele would see to it that whatever Hope needed in the way of medical care, she received. And more. Not just because she was Drew’s sister but because the sweetness of Hope’s spirit fairly demanded it.
“I can hold my own.” Without waiting for Hope to protest, for undoubtedly there was much to be feared in the alleys surrounding Canal Street, Adele hurried from the apartment.
She’d done many things of late that even she, at one time, would have called foolhardy. But now was not the time to dwell on them. Now, she must concentrate on getting to the Castle and discovering the whereabouts of the two men who’d walked unknowingly into a trap of her devising.
Skirting puddles of refuse that reflected the light from apartments and saloon windows, Adele tucked her gaze downward and tried to make herself appear as small as possible as she dodged staggering drunks, prostitutes parading with their clients, and a few raggedy street children that appeared just as comfortable playing among this chaos as the pressed and polished children of Grosvenor Square did in the park with their nannies.
Her heartbeat escalated as her steps neared. A scraggly bearded man ogled her as his bulk passed far too close to hers, engulfing her in the fetid aroma of unwashed flesh and cheap alcohol.
“Workin’ this corner are you, dearie? Any customers yet?”
Adele lengthened her strides, trying to muster the composure of one hardened to such occurrences. She stole glances upward, searching for the bright lights of the Castle. It couldn’t be much farther. Then she would find Drew and Tony, and be through with this vile scheming for the rest of her life. It was a square peg to her round hole. And the sooner she finished with it, the better.
There. Just up ahead. Hefting her skirts to accommodate her movements, she increased her pace. Brushed past those lingering outside the door. Someone exited, and she caught the door before it could swing shut and let herself inside.
Something surged through her, startling and terrifying.
Her worst nightmares couldn’t have prepared her for the scene spread before her.
Overturned tables. Fragments of glass on the floor. Few patrons remained. In fact, none at all. Onl
y Miles and two others.
And the metallic scent of blood hovering fresh and sharp on the air.
But no Drew. Nor Tony. Whoever had been a part of the fight had left, swept away like yesterday’s dust.
Her throat constricted.
Something had happened here, in this room. Something that went beyond a brawl and bled into something horrifying.
Her gaze landed on a corner. A sheet covered a lump, like a bundle of old rags.
Miles and the two other men remained deep in conversation, and Adele crossed the room without anyone calling out to stop her. Her feet crunched over glass.
She sidestepped a pool of red that could have been spilled claret.
But it wasn’t.
Her hands shook as she bent over the sheet. A rushing sound swirled in her brain, the moment standing out in unmistakable sharpness.
She’d done this before. She sensed it. On the day of her life that had changed everything and brought her to this place. To do again what she had done before and change again the compass of her life, without giving her the slightest say as to direction.
Adele lifted the corner of the sheet.
And met the glassy eyes that could no longer see her—Tony’s.
She stared down at him, pressing one hand against his evening shirt, a starched, clean one of snowy white. His hair fell over his forehead in the careless way that had become his standard since giving up fashion in the pursuit of pleasure.
If not for his eyes, she’d have thought him merely resting, flopped down for a quick nap after his nightly exertions. He’d look at her, mouth gaping in a yawn, before a boyish smile creased his lips. One that had always made her smile back, however reluctantly, no matter his offense.
But he wasn’t napping.
So the question pressed her. What madness had engulfed this room?
A madness that only one person could be blamed for.
Herself.
If she’d been in the habit of doing so, she’d have said a quick prayer before pulling the sheet and obscuring her brother’s face. But for what? There was no point. Not in a life that far too often seemed created by hell instead of heaven, humans instead of God.
Letting the sheet fall, she turned and found the man named Miles looking at her. He made no move to stop her, though he couldn’t possibly know what her relation was to the man under the sheet.
“My brother.” The words came out sharp and high. Not at all like the cultured tone groomed into her since she first began to lisp. “Tony Linley. My brother.”
Miles nodded, obviously a man of few words. Did he not recognize her from earlier? Well, so much the better. And though he wasn’t inclined to give them, words were what she needed most right now. Ones that would tell her of what had taken place and how her brother had ended up under that sheet instead of staggering drunk at the Osbournes’ house.
“What happened here?” Again, that voice that did not sound like hers. Were the words being spoken by someone else? Not that she’d lost control of anything else. For wasn’t she standing here, upright, with scarcely a tremble?
“A fight. Terrible it was. Happened so fast and fierce there was no stopping it. At least until I got here. Then the authorities. Started with this man, from what we can tell.” He made a jerking motion toward the sheet. “Don’t know much else yet.” Miles spoke in the matter-of-fact way one might use to say, “It’s raining,” or “Pass me the salt.” Either he had a heart of steel or had seen this sort of thing enough to remain unfazed by it.
“Were there other injuries?”
Miles nodded. “Lots of broken noses and knocked-out teeth. A real spectacle of gore it was.” He must have realized he addressed a lady, as he suddenly shifted and cleared his throat. “Worst case was a man who’s being treated in Miss Aubrey’s room. He’s in a bad way, miss.”
The breath she dragged in might have been weighted with lead, so heavily did it come. The boning in her corset seemed to tighten as she licked dry lips.
“What man?”
“A young feller, ‘bout the same age as him.” Miles nodded in the direction of Tony’s prone form.
“I must see him at once!” Had she bade armies to stand still, her tone couldn’t have held more command. Even Miles withered under it as he wordlessly tromped over jagged glass in the direction of the hallway.
A sudden stab knifed the sole of her shoe. A penetration from a shard of glass. She barely heeded it. What was pain anyway but acknowledgment of sensation?
Right now, she didn’t want to acknowledge anything.
Save the fact that the man in Caro Aubrey’s room wasn’t Drew Dawson.
Miles opened the door, the hinges protesting.
Noooo…
A wave of horror engulfed her in its chasm. One that stabbed deeper than any broken glass, and one she wanted nothing more than to close her eyes against and will away.
She crossed the room on legs more mentally than physically numb. A man—probably the doctor—and Caro Aubrey stood at the farthest edge of the bed, the former bending over Drew.
But Adele didn’t acknowledge them.
Drew lay, eyes closed. Swelling marked the side of his strong, handsome face and a bruise darkened his eye. A swath of bandages encircled his chest, a splint wrapping his right leg. He didn’t so much as stir as she pressed a hand to the unmarked side of his cheek. A brush of air against her fingertips lessened the weight upon her own chest. At least, he still breathed.
Aside from that, he was as immobile as her brother.
Raising her gaze, she pinned Caro Aubrey with a look. Red rimmed the woman’s eyes, loathing in their depths.
Adele turned to the doctor. “What can you tell me of his condition?” Thank goodness her tone sounded more like her own. A bit of stability to cling to amid this sea of wreckage.
“Three ribs are fractured. A broken femur. Other than that, minor bruising and lacerations.” An intelligent tone, though he seemed a bit young. “Are you a relation?”
She almost nodded. But friendship, no matter how deep, did not constitute such rights. Nor did she deserve to be even that, after tonight. “No. But I know his sister. She’s an invalid. So I act on her behalf.”
“We’ll keep him here tonight. Tomorrow, unless complications arise, he can be removed to his home.”
She nodded, the gesture wooden. “I’m also the sister of the man in the front room.”
The doctor’s eyes softened. Caro Aubrey’s hardened until her orbs looked as sharp and lethal as the glass littering the front-room floor. Adele noted it almost methodically. The last thing that mattered right now was this woman’s anger.
“People have been summoned to attend him,” the doctor’s words sounded much too calm. “Having family to identify and state their wishes makes things all the easier.”
“Before they arrive, I’d like a word with the young lady.” If her eyes were fragmented glass, Miss Aubrey’s tone was a newly sharpened razor. “Alone.”
“Yes.” Adele fixed her gaze on Drew again. His lips parted with an intake of breath. Lips that had grinned at his sister and smiled at her. Laughed with real joy. Spoken wisdom when she’d needed it most.
What she wouldn’t give for an ounce of that wisdom now. Especially when Caro Aubrey led them into an adjoining room and closed the door with a final click behind her. She placed the lamp she carried on a shelf. The room seemed a storeroom of sorts, musty and crammed with foodstuffs and cleaning supplies.
An almost feral gleam lit Caro Aubrey’s eyes as she backed against a cabinet, hands fisted at her sides. “I told you there would be consequences.” Her tone was soft, almost a whisper. Had she spoken the words in a Delaware Avenue ballroom, people would have thought her the most pleasant lady to grace it. It was her eyes that gave Adele warning. “I’m always right about such things, you know. Blame the business. Gives one the ability to see the future in queer ways. And now we’re all paying for it.”
Suddenly she wrapped her arms aro
und her bodice and rocked back and forth. “Tony. Tony.” Though Caro Aubrey’s head was bent, her shoulders shook with muffled sobs. More words issued from her mouth, garbled with tears and indistinct.
She raised her eyes to Adele’s, the shimmering tears making them glitter with greater brilliance. “Your brother, you say? I knew there was more to the story you concocted. I was a fool to believe you. A fool to give your brother my heart along with the rest of me.” Her hair fell in a mass of curls over her shoulders. She shook it behind her. “But I’m a fool no longer. You will pay for every cent of damage that was done to me tonight. Even if I cannot bring that man back from the grave, I will exact that. And I’ll bring your name into a scandal so great, it will ruin you.” The lamplight flickered across the floor and over Caro Aubrey’s face in a macabre dance of shadow and contrast. “I will ruin you.”
Life was a thing to be grateful for. And though Drew could scarcely move without assistance, he could close his eyes and thank the Lord on High for the gift of being alive.
You are good, Lord. You spared my life when Tony Linley’s was taken. I will recover, though not for a while. I have much to thank You for.
And much to trust Him for as well. After he’d awoken from the drugging effects of the laudanum last night, Dr. Wemming had given him the facts with a frankness Drew cringed from, while at the same time appreciated.
He’d cracked three ribs. Broken his right femur. Both injuries would tie him to his bed for over a month. Actually, seven weeks to let the bone knit together, so when the time was up, the impairment to his gait would be minor.
Seven weeks. Drew sucked in a breath, grimacing at the pain a simple intake of air could cause his bruised and battered ribs.
He was set to cross the Falls tomorrow afternoon. He’d practiced for it, planned every last detail. Posters had been put up, investors garnered.
His gaze panned downward over his body, lying like a felled log in his bed at the apartment, where he’d been since they’d moved him earlier this morning, his wrapped torso and limb…
He wouldn’t be crossing the room tomorrow, let alone Niagara. Not that he rued escaping the risky venture.
My Heart Belongs in Niagara Falls, New York Page 16
