Angel In My Bed

by Melody Thomas

Victoria pressed her lips together, caught by an alarm that quickly escalated as her own past gave proof that young love and British spies were a dangerous combination. “Mr. Rockwell? Has he…?”

  “He’s set someone else to take his place here. I’ve seen him working at the church or at the manor house but he doesn’t come here anymore.” Esma wiped her damp hands on her apron. “He’s married, mum.”

  That revelation surprised her. Ian Rockwell obviously had integrity not to allow himself to become involved with a moon-eyed romantic schoolgirl. Still, as she thought of Bethany, Victoria remembered being seventeen and feeling the whole world sided against her. Mostly, she remembered feeling alone.

  David had a hundred reasons not to care about the other family in her life or feel he was responsible for Bethany’s future, but she hoped in time he could be swayed. Bethany needed to know that she wasn’t alone and would never be handed over to Nellis.

  “Did Lord Chadwick say anything to Sir Henry about the will?”

  “I’m not aware if he has, mum.”

  “And you do not know where Lord Chadwick went after leaving here?”

  “No, mum.”

  Victoria stopped at the church on the way back to Rose Briar. The groomsman accompanying her greeted those who were working inside the burned-out structure. Rubbing the cramp in her side, she looked at Mr. Doyle’s thatched cottage. Smoke issued forth from the chimney. She was suddenly standing at his wife’s grave, staring at the headstone wondering at the magic of spending forty years with another human being and the loss of having that person die. All of her life, she had never truly understood death, except it was a forever event. She’d never believed in heaven, though strangely she believed well enough in hell. A cold chill worked itself beneath her cloak and skirts, and she raised her hood, feeling as if someone was watching her, yet when she lifted her face, she saw no one.

  She remained unnoticed in the cemetery. Mr. Rockwell’s horse was tied to the iron gate that let out into the churchyard. She saw his tall form near the cottage, talking to the big man with the gold tooth. No one else was paying attention to her.

  All week she had been trying to get out from beneath David’s thumb, wanting to find a way to talk to Nellis. Now it was as if Providence had handed her a horse and a means to escape. At least a means to a goal.

  Lowering her head, she said a brief prayer over Mrs. Doyle’s grave as she’d promised Mr. Doyle she would. Heart pounding, she made her way to the gate, mounted, and rode out of the churchyard.

  “You’ve a visitor, Mr. Munro.”

  Nellis looked up from his correspondence as Victoria stepped into his library. He sat behind a large ostentatious desk. Two griffins balanced each end of a perfectly arranged desktop. “I fear she would not wait in the foyer,” the butler said.

  Nellis rose and stepped around the desk. His eyes made a pass behind her before settling on her. “What a pleasant surprise.” He managed to sound casual.

  “I hope that I am not disturbing you.”

  “Shall I have tea brought in, sir?” the butler inquired.

  “Why not?” Nellis waved his hand airily. “Make it our special blend. It will be an experience for her, I’m sure.”

  After the butler bowed out, Victoria found her stomach unsettled as she regarded Sir Henry’s nephew with a calm she did not feel.

  “How long has it been since I’ve been graced with your presence alone in my home?” As he pondered his own wit, his mouth flashed a mocking grin. “Why, never.”

  “It isn’t necessary to be rude, Nellis.”

  “I am only rude when provoked. Unfortunately, I am in a provoked state of mind. Or I was until your arrival.” His gaze warmed over her. He was dressed fastidiously in dark trousers, waistcoat, and jacket. “You’re looking very lovely, Victoria. Won’t you make yourself comfortable?”

  It didn’t occur to her until now that Nellis’s position as chief magistrate made her current position more precarious. Deciding on prudence over hostility, Victoria removed her cloak. He did not press her to sit in any particular chair, but merely waited for her to do so. She chose the low-backed armchair nearest to the desk in deference to the view it provided not only of the room but also of the street.

  “Is someone going to be pounding down my door at any moment looking for you?” Nellis inquired, leaning against the desk with certain significance as he did so—like a man at ease making life-and-death decisions over people.

  “No,” she replied, reminding herself to sit tall.

  He chuckled. “Why do you want to see me?”

  “I thought we could talk,” she offered. “Bury the hatchet, so to speak, between our two families, seeing that you are Sir Henry’s blood relative.”

  “I have been Sir Henry’s blood relative for forty-one years. You are the one who is not. And yet, there you are making a claim on Rose Briar.”

  “I believe Sir Henry inherited Rose Briar from his mother, who was your father’s stepmother, hence no true relative of yours, since you didn’t even know her.”

  His features hardened enough to tell her she had hit a nerve. They also warned her that he was not as he seemed, that challenging him outright would not work. He was toying with her, for he was not a patient man at all.

  She folded her hands. “May I ask why you were so intent on taking the land?”

  “Sentimental reasons, Victoria.”

  “But you’ve never lived there. I only want to do what is right and fair,” she stated, realizing at once she’d overplayed her concern. Giving up all pretenses, she forced a smile. “Perhaps if you are nice, Lord Chadwick will invite you to sup with the family on holidays.”

  “Yes, an interesting chap. I was unaware Chadwick was so connected.” Nellis reached behind him and slid a yellowed sheet of paper off the desk. “That was mistakenly delivered to my town house a few days ago. Since you are here you can take it to him.”

  Nellis dropped it in her lap. Victoria scanned the brief lines.

  CONFIRMED. THREE O’CLOCK. WEDNESDAY.

  NEW HAVEN. BE THERE. RAVENSPUR.

  It was a telegram addressed to David. Wednesday was today. David had not told her where he might be going today. “Mistakenly? I doubt it.”

  “Lord Ravenspur works for the foreign secretary in Lord Ware’s inner office,” Nellis said, ignoring the comment. “It seems your cousin has made quite a name for himself as an…emissary for our government in the various places he’s served.” Nellis waggled another paper in front of her nose. “I was hoping you could tell me why Chadwick would be meeting with Lord Ravenspur? It is rather curious, is it not?”

  Her palms grew moist. She had no idea why David would have arranged such a secret meeting. “Why should that be your concern?”

  He laughed, leaning on the desk. “Knowing him as you do, then you probably understand Chadwick is very good at what he does. Truly, Victoria,” he said with sarcasm, “you have no idea the kind of man he is or you wouldn’t have been so eager to invite him into your life. You don’t think he’s earned his accolades fanning the queen’s bum, do you?”

  Victoria could find no rebuttal to the crass statement. The rattle of a tray snapped her attention to the doorway. Wearing a white apron over her black dress, the servant pulled her gaze from Nellis as she set down the tray on the table beside Victoria’s chair. She wondered what she’d briefly glimpsed in the woman’s eyes as she accepted a cup.

  “Aren’t you curious about the kind of man for whom you seem to hold some fondness?” Nellis demanded after the servant departed.

  Victoria gave him her full attention. “I know who he is.”

  “Then you know fourteen years ago, David Donally stopped a purported assassination attempt on the royal family with a single bullet to the culprit’s forehead. Almost six hundred yards. He was one of a few in the world who could have made that shot. Not the first time he’d done such a job, might I add. You don’t believe me?” Nellis queried, pulling out another sheaf of paper from th
e stack he held in his hands. “He belonged to an elite group of men called the League of the Condor. Men sent all over the world to infiltrate organizations to expose plots and bring in the worst sort of criminals.”

  She didn’t believe Nellis. She did not know all that David had done in his service to the crown, but she did not believe him capable of assassination no matter the cause. David couldn’t be a cold-blooded killer. Or maybe he was. But she had seen him fight Stillings’s men. He could have killed any one of them and had not. And he’d gone into the priesthood, hadn’t he?

  “On top of everything else, ten years ago, his notable service in Calcutta won him a life peerage. His other honors and citations span two pages.”

  “His service in Calcutta won him his peerage?”

  “Didn’t you live in Calcutta before coming here?”

  A mocking undercurrent chilled her. “You know I did.”

  “Then the question that begs to be asked is why a known assassin is here watching over someone as saintly as you. If I listen to rumor, Nathanial is his son. Is this true, Victoria? Have you allowed yourself get taken in by a notorious spy? Twice?”

  Nellis came to his feet, and she involuntarily pressed back into the chair. He saw the movement, and his lips smiled, raising the fine hairs on the back of her neck as he left her with the disconcerting thought that he knew exactly who she was. That he had known for months. “I will not let you blackmail me,” she whispered.

  “I merely asked if the rumors about the boy were true,” he said. “Though I’ve looked high and low for a marriage document between one David Donally and Victoria Munro, I have yet to find one. As a consequence, should something happen to Chadwick, heaven forbid, as Sir Henry’s legal male heir, I would be responsible for the boy and Bethany.”

  Uncertainty made her light-headed. How would he know these things? Was he in collusion with her father then? Or did someone from the foreign secretary’s office contact him in the course of the investigation? Or perhaps both?

  She started to put down her saucer and stand when she noted the second cup of tea on the tray remained untouched. She looked down into her own half-empty cup then forced herself to meet Nellis’s gaze, a chill going down her spine.

  “I am surprised you came today to see me.” He walked behind her and placed his hands on the back of the chair. “But then I never doubted you had courage.” The tenor in his voice darkened. “Now, you are probably asking if I have done something to your tea. Do you still have the fortitude to fly at the face of danger now, Victoria?”

  Nellis had been menacing to her before, but until now, she had never truly been afraid of him. “I am not afraid of you,” she whispered.

  Returning to his desk, Nellis folded his arms over his chest and observed her silence in triumph. “Then do I tell you the tea is poisoned and take away the suspense? Or do I let you discover the truth on your own? Either way, I fear you are doomed in the end.”

  Struggling not to react, Victoria set the cup on the table at her knee and rose to her feet. “Is there anything else, Nellis?”

  “Ah, Sheriff Stillings,” Nellis looked at the doorway, and Victoria almost fainted in relief.

  “My lady.” Stillings wore a heavy woolen cloak the color of his brown eyes. He grinned at her charmingly. “I was unaware that someone of your distinction was present.”

  “Sheriff Stillings works for me, Victoria,” Nellis said, turning his best magistrate’s gaze to the other man. “Don’t you?”

  Stillings cleared his throat. “Did you want to see me for any particular reason?”

  Nellis continued to look at her. “I believe she was just leaving,” Nellis said.

  As if on cue, a harness and jingle heralded the arrival of Nellis’s stately black carriage. It rumbled into sight of the bow window and rolled to a stop in front of the town house. “I would be remiss if I didn’t see you properly escorted back to Rose Briar.”

  She struggled with her gloves. “I would not be seen dead in your carriage.”

  “Nonetheless, we’ll tie the reins of your horse to the boot. You’ll take the carriage.” Nellis aided her with her cloak, but she snatched it away before he could touch her. “Cheer up, Victoria.” He laughed, speaking in a museful vein. “I may be more valuable to you than you know before everything is over. Perhaps if you consider the idea, you may come to believe we can be allies as well as friends. Isn’t that the way of it, Stillings?”

  Victoria stepped next to the sheriff.

  “See that she takes the carriage back to Rose Briar,” Nellis spoke firmly to Sheriff Stillings. “And Victoria,” he called after her and laughed, inordinately pleased with his victory. “The tea is my favorite blend with just a hint of mint.”

  “Stay away from Nellis Munro,” Sheriff Stillings spoke as the carriage wheels rattled across a narrow bridge and climbed the drive toward Rose Briar.

  Pressed as far away from Tommy Stillings as she could go within the close confines of the carriage, Victoria had buried herself in her cloak and kept her eyes on the window where twilight had darkened the sky. For the past hour, she’d sat unspeaking on the leather bench next to him, now the anxiety that had plagued her since leaving Rose Briar that afternoon returned tenfold as she came within sight of the bluff.

  With his less than subtle mental warfare, Nellis had homed in on her greatest weakness, her faulty instinct at being able to read human nature and thus his intent. He wanted her to doubt David’s integrity and thus herself.

  Her father had been just such an expert at manipulation, subduing her will by creating self-doubt, for it was the one way he could control her. The only way he could beat her. She should have taken a shiv to Nellis’s bollocks and been done with his arrogance. The urge to do so now rose and swelled on a crest of fury, building in momentum until she folded her hands into a fist, until it grabbed at her chest.

  Turning her head, she found Stillings watching her with something resembling concern. “Why do you work for him?”

  “Because I do.” His smile came back. “My apologies if I gave you the impression that I am anything but what Nellis wants me to be.”

  Victoria narrowed her eyes, trying to read his in the darkness. “You’re afraid of him.”

  Sheriff Stillings regarded the rigid set of her spine with a degree of admiration in the touch of his eyes. “Annie would not appreciate it if I broke your neck, my lady.”

  The carriage slowed to a stop, rocking on its springs. “Would you have killed me if Nellis so ordered?”

  Sheriff Stillings opened the door and stepped down. “Get out, my lady.”

  Ignoring his extended hand, she departed the carriage and strode past an astonished half-dozen men gathered at the gate, leading up the path to the door. If David were anywhere on the bluff, he would have seen the carriage approach. Apprehension filled her. She didn’t want to face him until she could rein in her emotions, didn’t want to look into his eyes and see the truth in Nellis’s accusations about his past or question her trust. She didn’t want to ask him why he had taken her son away today, the same time he’d arranged a secret meeting with someone from the Foreign Office.

  “What do you want me to do with the horse, Doc?” Stillings called after her, his voice no longer amused or mocking, but angry.

  Victoria whirled to tell him he could go to the devil, but an icy wind gust caught at her skirts and snatched the breath from her lungs. She clutched the hood of her cloak.

  “I’ll take my own bloody horse.” Mr. Rockwell appeared at her side, an expression of discontent evident in his eyes. “Since he does belong to me.”

  Her hands no longer steady, she clutched the cloak against her throat, and watched the carriage pull away. William Shelby and Mr. Gibson were standing among the men gathered around her. “Mr. Rockwell?” Victoria grabbed his arm, the movement startling him. “Is Nathanial back yet?”

  “He is with his father. Someone rode out to try and find Donally and bring him back,” he said, taking
the reins of the horse from one of his men. “I hope you enjoyed your little outing, my lady. It cost us all a lot of time and labor.”

  “You would know if he wasn’t coming back…I mean if something was wrong?” Nellis had subtly threatened David’s life. And her son was with him. “You would know? Right?”

  His gaze dropped to her fingers clutching his sleeve. “What happened between you and Mr. Munro?”

  She pulled her hand away, curling her fingers into her palm. No longer sure of anything, she clutched the hood of her cloak, whirling on her heel toward the house. Mr. Rockwell called her name but she didn’t stop. The main door opened.

  Bethany appeared backlit by the foyer lamplight. “Victoria?” Tears in her eyes, she stood aside as Victoria swept past her into the foyer. “We’ve been worried about you.”

  “I can take care of myself, Bethany.” She had not meant her voice to sound so harsh when she was so glad to see the girl; she had not meant her anger. “Please…” She cupped Bethany’s tender cheek. “Just go home to Sir Henry.”

  Victoria strode up the stairs, her skirts billowing out around her like unfurled sails in a growing storm. By the time she reached the second-floor corridor, she was running to her room.

  Chapter 19

  A fire burned in the hearth. Victoria lay in bed, one hand beneath her cheek as she stared listlessly into the dying flames. She’d tried to remain awake in hopes of seeing David, but it was already after midnight and he had yet to return. Her dinner tray remained untouched where Mrs. Gibson had set it on a small table earlier. Bethany had knocked on her door earlier, but Victoria could not talk to her and had turned into her pillow to sleep. A green vial of chlorodyne drops sat on her bedside table and she closed her eyes, Nellis’s conversation replaying on her consciousness as she fell into a restless slumber and dreamed about a cloaked figure in the night.

  She stood amid the swirling mist rising from the cemetery, wearing her mother’s locket and looking across the grave markers to the church.