by Joyce Alec
The hairs on the back of Stephen’s neck began to stand up as Miss Hawkins clutched at his arm. Without even realizing he was doing it, Stephen began to walk forward slowly, pushing his way through the crowd of guests, hearing whispers beginning to rise up around him.
And then, he saw him. His brother, the Marquess of Atherton, was lying face down on the floor.
With a knife sticking out of his back.
4
For what seemed like an eternity, Julia found it almost impossible to move, almost impossible to take in what she was seeing. Her mind was clouded with fear, her heart racing and her breath coming in ragged gasps as she looked down at the floor. Her hand was still tight on Lord Stephen’s arm, her fingers clutching at his sleeves.
“Get him out of here.”
Lord Stephen looked up at his guests, his voice hoarse but his eyes narrowed.
“I said, get him out of here!” he demanded, striding toward his brother as Julia freed her hand from his arm. “The fool. The ridiculous, stupid fool. What sort of ridiculous game is he playing?”
Julia’s breath caught as she stared after Lord Stephen. The man clearly believed that his brother was doing nothing other than play acting, that he was pretending to have been stabbed by some invisible assailant—and for a moment, Julia wondered if he was correct.
But then, as the two footmen approached Lord Atherton and put their hands under him to lift him from the floor, Julia saw a small pool of blood underneath his body and felt her stomach drop.
“He is still breathing, my lord,” one of the footmen exclaimed, his face drawn and pale. “He still lives!”
Lord Stephen did not respond and, out of the corner of her eye, Juila saw something move just behind the footmen, someone hurrying out toward the French doors, but could not quite get her eyes to focus on the person.
She did not know why she did it, or what it was that forced her forward, but with an authority she did not truly have, she came nearer to Lord Stephen and set one hand on his shoulder.
“Take Lord Atherton to his rooms and find a doctor at once,” she commanded as the footmen stared at her, ashen-faced. “Lord Stephen, you must have someone clean the floor so that the ball can continue.” She looked up into the gentleman’s face, seeing how it had paled, how his eyes had widened and how a look of shock was now rolling across his expression. A gentleman she did not recognize stepped forward, his hand grasping Julia’s as though to steady her. She felt a slight chill run up her arm, the gentleman’s hand being very cold indeed.
“I will ride out for a doctor at once,” he said, looking straight into Julia’s face, his eyes filled with concern, his cheeks a little flushed. “I know there is one nearby.”
She nodded, barely able to speak, before turning back to look into Lord Stephen’s blank face. Evidently, he had only just realized that his brother might truly have been gravely injured, if not killed. Seeing yet more footmen hurrying toward Lord Stephen, Julia forced herself to continue speaking as though she had the right to order Lord Atherton’s staff about. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her chin and threw aside her clawing fear.
“Clear this up at once!” she exclaimed, her voice tearing across the room. “And have the orchestra begin just as soon as it is done.” Tugging Lord Stephen’s arm, she attempted to pull him from where he stood. “Lord Stephen, you must come to see your brother at once.”
Lord Stephen’s eyes slowly turned toward hers, his face now gray. “He…”
“A terrible event indeed,” she said, taking his arm a little more firmly and keeping her voice as steady as she could. “Come now, Lord Stephen, if you please.”
Having very little idea as to where she was going, Julia made for the door, seeing the guests parting before them. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Lady Haddington hurrying toward them and, with a grateful look, Julia nodded toward the door. Lord Haddington appeared next to his wife and, together, they walked through the ballroom door and then waited for Julia and Lord Stephen to join them.
“Good gracious!” Lady Haddington’s face was white, her eyes rounded. “Lord Atherton… is he…?” She could not bring herself to say it, it seemed, looking at Julia with wide, frightened eyes.
“I do not know,” Julia answered softly as Lord Stephen stared straight ahead, his expression filled with horror. “I thought to leave Lord Stephen to the care of his staff and then—”
“Would you come with me?”
Lord Stephen’s voice broke into Julia’s conversation, his eyes roving slowly around her face as he looked at her. Julia swallowed hard, wanting to comfort him but yet finding herself almost fearful of seeing a dead man lying on a bed.
“He may not be dead,” Lord Haddington murmured, as though he knew Julia’s thoughts. “Lord Stephen, I will attend with you. My dear, would you and Miss Hawkins care to wait outside?”
Lady Haddington drew herself up, took in a long breath, and set her shoulders. “If appropriate, we will join you,” she said as Lord Stephen slowly let go of Julia’s arm. “But we should allow Lord Stephen the opportunity to see his brother’s state of health first.”
Julia nodded at this, her heart in her throat as Lord Stephen stumbled toward the stairs, swiftly followed by Lord Haddington. The courage and strength that had been required of her only a few minutes ago was now no longer needed and as such, Julia began to feel quite tired and rather overcome. Lady Haddington grasped Julia’s arm, her fingers tight.
“Did you see what happened?” she asked quietly as they began to climb the staircase. “We heard the scream and soon after, the whispers about what had occurred, but we did not see Lord Atherton until he was carried from the room.” Her eyes searched Julia’s face. “What happened to him?”
Julia took in a long breath and stopped for a moment or two as they reached the top of the staircase. “He was lying on the ground,” she began hesitantly, the horror of what she had seen shuddering through her as she recalled what had happened. “I believe Lord Stephen thought him to be playing nothing more than a prank, even though there was knife protruding from Lord Atherton’s back.” The swift intake of breath from Lady Haddington told Julia that she was just as shocked as Julia had been. “It took a few moments for Lord Stephen to realize that his brother was not pretending.”
“How awful,” Lady Haddington murmured as they resumed their walking a short distance behind Lord Stephen and Lord Haddington. “I am very sorry indeed to hear what has occurred.” A long sigh escaped her. “But the rumor of this house now appears to be true, does it not?”
A little surprised to hear such a statement from Lady Haddington, Julia shook her head sharply, feeling strength returning slowly to her cold limbs. “Surely you cannot believe that rumor to be true?”
Something flashed in Lady Haddington’s gaze. “I do not believe that it is, no,” she answered quietly, pulling Julia to a stop as Lord Stephen and Lord Haddington were ushered into a room with a large oak door. “For ghosts do not stab a man.”
“No, indeed not,” Julia agreed, shivering slightly. “Someone has used the rumor to inflict this wound on Lord Atherton, in the hope of taking his life.” She was not at all inclined to believe the rumor, knowing full well that there was no wisdom in the suggestion that a ghost could have risen up and stabbed Lord Atherton. “They have used this evening to take revenge, mayhap.” Her eyes remained fixed on the door, her stomach tightening as she worried about Lord Atherton’s condition. “But why?”
Lady Haddington let out a long sigh. “Lord Atherton was a man inclined toward enemies,” she said as Julia nodded ruefully. “From what I know of him, he was a gentleman who liked to take his pleasures wherever he wanted them, to do whatever he wished, and to treat others as callously as he desired.” Her lips flattened. “Not a particularly warm character, but rather a gentleman with a touch of cruelty about him.”
“Then he is someone who has a good many enemies,” Julia answered with a sigh of her own. “This attack may not come as a surp
rise to the beau monde.”
“I should think it would not,” Lady Haddington concurred. They lapsed into silence, only to turn as a white-haired gentleman was led quickly along the corridor, a bag clutched in his hand.
The doctor had arrived.
He did not look at them but kept his gaze straight ahead, his face grave and his eyes sharp. Julia watched him enter the bedchamber, her fingers twining together as she silently began to pray that the doctor would be able to do something for Lord Atherton, and that it was not too late. Lady Haddington said nothing more, beginning to pace up and down the hallway as Julia remained precisely where she was, her fingers twisting this way and that as she held her hands in front of her.
“I think—”
Julia looked up as Lady Haddington began to speak, only to see her start forward as Lord Haddington appeared in the doorway, beckoning them toward himself. Julia held her breath as she approached, seeing Lord Haddington’s dark frown and beginning to fear the worst.
“How is he?” she asked, hurrying toward him. “Is the doctor confident of his recovery?”
Lord Haddington pressed his lips together and shook his head. “Lord Atherton is in a very bad way indeed,” he said softly. “The wound is deep. The doctor has only just arrived and fears that Lord Atherton might soon pass from this world to the next.” He grimaced and shook his head. “Lord Stephen Paxton is both confused and angry, Miss Hawkins, but he wishes to see you.”
Julia blinked in surprise. “Lord Stephen wishes to see me?” she repeated, as though she had misheard Lord Haddington. “Now? At this present moment?”
Lord Haddington nodded. “The doctor is working on Lord Atherton’s wound at this very moment,” he explained. “Lord Stephen is waiting for you on the other side of the room, if you would be willing to come in?”
Nodding at once, Julia did not even wait for Lord Haddington to show her in, stepping around him and walking inside. Her eyes immediately fell on the doctor, leaning over Lord Atherton, who was lying on a large bed, his back completely bare. Red stains were on Lord Atherton’s back, with blood still pooling in a large, jagged wound where the doctor was busy pulling a thick thread through Lord Atherton’s skin.
Her stomach jolted and Julia turned her head away, feeling it roiling and fearing that she might cast up her accounts if she continued to watch. She caught sight of Lord Stephen standing on the opposite side of the room, his own face turned away as though he could not bear to see the sight of his brother so ill. Moving toward him slowly and hearing Lord and Lady Haddington murmur together as they also came into the room, Julia took in long, steadying breaths, telling herself that she needed to be as calm as possible.
“Lord Stephen.”
His head lifted and he looked at her with dulled green eyes, his features slack. There was a haunted look about him now, as though he had seen into the next world and had been horrified at what he had seen there.
“Miss Hawkins,” he said, his voice hoarse. “You were there. You saw.”
She looked at him for a moment before nodding slowly. “I saw your brother, yes.”
A small step took him closer to her. “Did you see anything else?” he asked, sounding a little more urgent as his eyes searched her face. “Anyone looking at him with a sense of satisfaction on their faces? Someone unguarded in their expression of delight?”
Julia slowly began to shake her head, her lips forming the negative answer, but Lord Stephen, it seemed, was not about to easily accept such a thing from her. Grasping her arm with tight, cold fingers, he looked her straight in the eye.
“There must have been something, Miss Hawkins,” he said with a good deal more fervor. “I was much too caught up in watching my brother, thinking him to be foolish and playacting for his guests and I…” His expression grew suddenly wretched and he looked away, leaving Julia’s heart to shatter into a thousand pieces at the agony in his eyes. She could not imagine what he was feeling, could not even begin to sympathize with all the pain that must now be lancing through his heart.
“You are not to blame,” she insisted, fearing that he might now be blaming this attack on himself. “It is quite understandable that—”
“He was lying there alone for some minutes.” Lord Stephen’s voice was harsh now, his eyes narrowing as though he was angry with her for defending his actions. “I should have called for help immediately. I should not have been so foolish.”
Settling one hand over his, Julia searched Lord Stephen’s face for any sign that he might be willing to listen to her, but saw nothing other than pain, guilt, and anger. She did not know what to say to help him, did not know what to express so that he might feel less guilt than he did at present.
“Had I acted at once, then he might now have more hope than he does now,” Lord Stephen continued, his hand still on her arm. “As it stands, I have already failed my brother.”
“I saw nothing but fear and shock on everyone else’s faces,” Julia told him firmly. “The person responsible for this would have, most likely, removed themselves from the house almost at once.” She tentatively placed her free hand on top of his and felt him start, although he did not remove his hand from her arm. “Or chosen to hide themselves amongst the crowd. I do not believe they were standing watching your brother with a sense of satisfaction on their face, as you suggest. Rather, I think they would have hidden themselves where no one would have noticed them.”
Lord Stephen let out a long breath and dropped his head. Julia said nothing but merely stood beside him, her hand on his, waiting for him to speak. When he did so, it was with a great, pained sigh and a heaviness in his manner that sent another spiral of compassion through her.
“I do not know what to do,” he admitted with more vulnerability than she had ever expected. “I thought this story was nothing more than a rumor, nothing more than a pretense that my brother had concocted in order to gain a little more gossip and a good deal more attention.” He ran one hand through his hair, his eyes filled with guilt. “And now I discover that it is true.”
“It is not true,” she told him, speaking with such force that he looked at her in surprise. “Someone has used this rumor to their own advantage. Someone has decided to take advantage of the story to bring about their own justice for some slight or wrongdoing. And if you will permit me, I should like to help you discover who it is that has done so.”
She held her head high, her chin a little lifted as she saw Lord Stephen frown. This was not the mystery she had wanted, not the puzzle that she had long desired, for whilst the idea of having such a thing to work out had been an enthralling one, the reality was much darker than she had anticipated. She certainly had not wanted Lord Atherton to be struck down in such a manner. But now that it had occurred, now that she had been present with Lord Stephen when he had discovered it, Julia knew she could not turn her back on it now.
“You want to help me?” Lord Stephen murmured, a small frown flickering between his brows. “What is it you could do, Miss Hawkins?” He sounded a trifle disbelieving, but Julia did not hold it against him.
“Lady Haddington, myself, and three other young ladies would be glad to come to your assistance in this matter, Lord Stephen,” she told him firmly. “We helped secure answers for Lord Haddington last Season—he will tell you of it if you ask him—and I am sure that we will not fail you in this either.”
Lord Stephen stared at her for a moment, as if confused by what she was saying, only for his frown to disappear, his shoulders to lift into a shrug, and his eyes to fix upon hers.
“Very well,” he answered, sending a small shiver down Julia’s spine. “I would be grateful for any help you might bring me, Miss Hawkins.” His eyes returned to his brother, his lips pulling thin. “If you might call upon me at my own townhouse tomorrow, Miss Hawkins, we could discuss the matter further.”
Now it was her turn to frown. “You will be at your own townhouse?”
Lord Stephen nodded, not even glancing at her as he spoke.
“I will not linger in this house,” he answered, making her think for a moment that he intended to leave his brother behind. “Not when there has been so much evil done here. No, Miss Hawkins, I will have my brother moved to my own townhouse, so that he might be quite safe.”
“I am sure he will be safe here,” Julia ventured, only for Lord Stephen to shake his head firmly, cutting through the air with a swipe of his hand.
“No,” he said decisively. “Whoever has tried to kill my brother might be disappointed to know that they have failed. They may well try again.” His eyes darted to his servants, who were hovering by the doctor, ready with whatever he might need. “I can trust no one but my own staff,” he finished, making her realize what he meant. “I shall have my brother moved to my home, Miss Hawkins, and would be glad to meet you there. Please, bring Lord and Lady Haddington with you also.”
She nodded, her heart still aching with compassion for him as she looked into his face and saw just how torturous his thoughts were. Giving his hand one final press, she took a small step back and let his hand fall from her arm.
“Until tomorrow, then, my lord,” she murmured as his eyes caught hers. “I will pray for Lord Atherton’s recovery.”
He nodded, his expression grave. “Please do,” he responded as she made to step away. “I believe my brother will need it.”
5
It had been a night of broken sleep and tortured dreams. Stephen had tried to close his eyes on many occasions, having been assured by the doctor that his brother now needed only to sleep and that the laudanum that had been given to him would take him into a dreamless rest, but no sleep had come. Over and over, he had replayed in his mind the first few moments when he had seen his brother on the floor and had heard his mocking words thrown back at him so that shame filled him once more.
