“Hush, I am not. I’m just pleasantly warm.”
“You’re going to get us in trouble, that’s what you are,” Plum snapped, then added, “Do you still have the flask?”
Gillian giggled. Dagmar ignored the rustling of clothing that indicated that Gillian did, in fact, have possession of the flask and concentrated on laying out her tools. Leo had given her a long oilcloth wrap filled with assorted knives, awls, and blunt objects that she assumed were meant to pry up the heavy coffin lid. She knelt on the floor, arranging them next to her candle, ready to hand one off to whoever needed it.
“Can you give me that curved knife, my love?”
She scooted over to Leo, giving him the object in question. Nick perused her selection, picked one out, and went to work on the far side of the casket. Noble, having heard giggling from the door patrol, marched over to see what was going on and instantly (although quietly) demanded possession of his flask.
“I might as well help cut off those seals, since no one thus far seems to need to be beaten soundly,” Harry said softly and accepted the remaining knife that Dagmar handed him. She watched with interest as the three men, setting their respective candles on the coffin, worked at cutting off the lead seals.
“Luckily,” Leo said, grunting slightly as he pried up a section of the seal with the curved bladed dagger, “whoever sealed this didn’t know his job very well. He just plopped the lead on the wood of the coffin. Ah, there it goes. Nick?”
“Almost done with mine.”
“This one came off quite easily,” Harry whispered, picking off large flat strips of metal.
“I believe I shall look out the window,” Julia whispered as the men rose prefatory to lifting off the lid. “May God have mercy on our souls for disturbing the dead.”
Dagmar frowned, momentarily annoyed with her companion for making it sound as though they were the very worst kind of grave robbers, but she was too interested to see who, if anyone, was in the coffin to say anything.
She pressed close to Leo as he counted to three, then the men lifted the lid off the coffin.
The rotten smell of death immediately filled the room, making her cover her mouth to keep from gagging. A handful of flies arose, buzzing around in a sated manner that indicated they’d been feeding well. Leo swore softly. Harry choked and stumbled toward the window. The ladies at the door made gasping noises.
“That is the most disgusting thing I have ever seen, and less than a month ago I carried around a boiled pig’s head for an entire day, so I know disgusting.”
“Why on earth did you carry around a boiled pig’s head?” Gillian asked, her voice muffled because she had her handkerchief to her face.
“I’d just stolen it from my cousin, the prince regent.” Dagmar studied the repulsiveness in the coffin. “It seemed wasteful to go to all the trouble of stealing it and then leaving it where anyone could take it. Is that a foot?”
Leo, standing next to Nick as the two of them stared in horror at the bloody mass, glanced where Dagmar pointed. “Hard to tell.”
“That’s…” Dagmar squinted. Maggots squirmed around the mass. “That’s…”
“A horse,” Thom said, peering over Nick’s shoulder.
“Parts of a horse, yes,” Leo said.
“Here’s his head,” Nick said from where he had moved to the foot of the coffin. “Oh look, Thom found his tail.”
“I think it’s actually two tails,” Thom said, looking with interest at the objects she held in both hands.
“Whoever heard of a horse with two tails? This is definitely a foot.”
“Hoof,” Leo corrected. “There are two hooves over here. And the rest…” He eyed the repulsive mass in the middle. “Perhaps it’s better if we don’t catalog the parts that are contained.”
“Much better,” Plum said hurriedly.
“Tell me,” Gillian asked her husband in a slower than normal cadence. “If you were called upon to steal a boiled pig’s head from a crown prince, where would you hide it?”
“No more flask for you,” Noble told her, taking the flask from her hand and kissing her on her nose.
“Nick, help me with the lid…” Harry, Nick, and Leo sealed the coffin again, and while Gillian tried to persuade her husband to hand over his flask again, the three men screwed the bolts back into place.
“A horse,” Dagmar repeated, trying to come to grips with that idea.
“They’re not going to allow that monstrosity to be given a Christian burial, are they?” Julia asked, moving a few feet from the window in order to watch the men.
“I don’t see why not. The poor horse…or horses, given the two tails…died, so there’s no reason why they shouldn’t be buried.”
“It’s blasphemy!”
“Oh, hardly that, do you think?” Thom asked as she came around to stand with Dagmar.
“She’s the daughter of a vicar,” Dagmar told Thom under her breath. “She was raised to believe that one should never take the Lord’s name in vain, that you should give unto others, and that horses shouldn’t be buried.”
Thom looked thoughtful. “Equine burials are a bit unusual, but I don’t see anything ungodly about it.”
“Nor do I,” Dagmar said, thinking more about the subject. “The question is, who would want to kill a horse and put it in Louisa’s coffin?”
“I doubt very much that the horse was sacrificed for this purpose.” Leo, who had been conferring quietly with Harry and Nick, glanced her way. “It appeared to be deceased for some time, so I suspect that whoever put it there simply paid a visit to the nearest knacker’s yard and…er…acquired a suitable substitute for an actual human body.”
“At least now you have proof that Louisa didn’t die,” Thom said, waving her hand in front of her. The air still reeked with the odor of the deceased horse.
“Indeed we do. And I believe it will be best for us to confront Dalton in the morning, before the burial takes place. We should leave now before someone starts singing bawdy tavern songs.” Leo’s look at where Noble and Gillian were engaged in a passionate embrace was very pointed. “Or indulges in acts better suited to the bedchamber.”
Noble broke off the kiss and grinned at him. “We’ve yet to wake up an entire household with our antics, but I take your point. It’s a wonder Gillian hasn’t knocked down one of those vases over there.”
“I am not clumsy like that,” Gillian protested.
Noble just stared at her.
“All right, I am, but I’ve been very careful not to get near them. Besides, Plum is watching me. She wouldn’t let me do something that would stir the house.”
“It’s just a matter of time,” Noble said, taking her arm and escorting her toward the window. “Sooner or later, fate would catch up to you.”
Dagmar, who was wondering if Leo would kiss her with that much enthusiasm after they’d been married as long as Gillian and Noble, was about to ask him just that when suddenly Julia appeared to be struck with a fit of madness.
That was Dagmar’s first thought when her companion let loose with a blood-curdling shriek from the window.
“It’s the devil! The devil has come for us! He’s come to punish us for our sins!” Julia screamed, rushing past Thom and Dagmar with her arms flailing in the air.
Everyone in the room froze at the sudden noise, too startled to move.
Behind Julia, a pale golden streak flashed, heading straight for her but veering at the last moment into the corner hidden by a small sofa. Julia screamed in horror and, in her desperate attempt to get away, spun around and ran right into Leo.
“What—” he started to say but was knocked off balance. Julia, her face a mask of terror, leaped over him, tripped, and clutched his arm to steady herself.
“No—” Dagmar managed to get out, watching helplessly as Leo, now seriously off balance,
careened headfirst into the nearest of the two vases.
Time seemed to slow down to a standstill. Dagmar knew even before Leo’s head connected with the vase that not only would it crash to the ground in an explosion of fine china, but that the impact would send Leo into the second vase as well.
Even as she opened her mouth to tell Julia that it was only a cat that had come in the window, no doubt drawn by the odor of the dead horse, Leo hit the vase with a painful crack, then half stumbled and half fell into the second one before hitting the ground himself. He rolled away, covering his head to protect it from the resulting shower of smashed china.
The noise was deafening. A cannon going off couldn’t have pierced the slumbering house more effectively than the sound of two vases being smashed against the tile fireplace.
Dagmar started toward Leo even as the last few shards of shattered ceramics pinged on the tile. “Are you all right? Did you hurt your head? Oh, Leo, tell me you didn’t hurt your poor shoulder.”
Leo groaned. “No, I’m not hurt, not seriously.”
“Well that’s good,” she said, sighing as she carefully knelt next to him. “I won’t worry, then.”
The look Leo shot her when he uncurled was more than a little wild. “No, you don’t have anything to worry about. Mind you, the whole house—no, the entire neighborhood—is now alerted to our presence, but that’s hardly anything to concern you.”
“Don’t be rude,” Dagmar said, swatting him on his uninjured arm. “I meant regarding your wounds, as you well know. Julia, for heaven’s sake, stop making that noise. No one is blaming you for making Leo crash into the vases and waking the whole house, not that I’ve heard anything, so perhaps they didn’t hear—”
Just as the words left her mouth, a muted shout came from abovestairs, followed by an answering call from below them.
Dagmar sighed. “It was a good thought. Julia, please!”
“I didn’t mean to!” Julia was babbling at Noble and Gillian, both of whom had caught her before she could run out of the room. “I never thought that Lord March would fall—but the devil was after me—my father was a vicar, and he’d never forgive me for being here tonight—if I’d known this was why dear Princess Dagmar had me released—but I never thought he’d fall. Those lovely, lovely vases!”
“Run!” Harry suddenly yelled, shoving Plum toward the window.
“What? Harry, what are you—”
“Run, woman, run! There’s no need for you to be caught. Escape while you can!”
Noble looked thoughtfully at Gillian. She smiled. He offered his flask, and the two retired to the small sofa which was currently bearing the form of the golden cat.
“I am not going anywhere, you deranged man. Unhand me!”
“Maybe you should go with your aunt,” Nick said hesitantly to Thom. The look she gave him in return was filled with scorn. He shrugged. “I thought it was worth a try.”
“Hardly.”
“I don’t suppose—” Leo started to say to Dagmar.
“No. We’re partners, remember? Partners don’t run away and leave their other half to face irate men who are bound to wonder why a bunch of people are standing around a coffin at three in the morning.” That gave Dagmar a moment’s pause, and by the time Philip Dalton, armed with a dueling pistol and accompanied by two footmen and the butler, flung open the door to the sitting room, all of the room’s occupants were on their knees, surrounding the coffin.
Philip Dalton stopped in the doorway, holding a candle high and staring in utter surprise.
Seventeen
I fear this will be the last time I am able to write to you, my beloved Dagmar. I know you will take excellent care of your dear father, and I trust that you will heed the words of wisdom I have shared with you. You have grown into a woman of intelligence, wit, and personal charm, and I am very proud to call you my daughter. Just remember that although I may not always be near you, I will watch you from above with a loving and indulgent eye. I love you, my dearest one. Be happy in all that you do.
—Your devoted mama
“Ah. Dalton.”
Leo rose from where he had been kneeling next to Dagmar. He decided quickly to brazen his way through the incident in hopes that Dalton would hesitate to make a scene in front of so many men of importance. “I’m sorry that the cat woke you.”
“Cat?” Dalton’s face was without expression as he gazed from one person to another.
Leo held out his hand for Dagmar, who rose as graceful as a butterfly, her hand warm in his and that delicious sent of warm, willing woman—his warm, willing woman—wrapping itself around him in a way that guaranteed he’d have an erection for at least the next hour.
“Yes, the cat. A yellow one. I believe it’s currently behind the corner sofa. It came in and knocked over your vases.”
“I do hope they weren’t valuable,” Plum said, looking ruefully at the remains.
Dalton stared at her. “And you are?”
“My wife.” Harry helped Plum to her feet, then made a perfunctory bow as Leo introduced everyone.
“You’re no doubt wondering what we’re doing here,” Gillian said, then gave a little giggle. “I’d better let Plum tell you. Noble insists I’m a bit tipsy, which is ridiculous because I hold my liquor better than anyone I know. Besides, Plum is an author, so her explanation will be far more entertaining than anything I could come up with. Noble, stop squeezing me. I am not a rag doll.”
Leo felt a surge of pride in his wife. Not only was she not slightly inebriated, but she also kept her wits about her in time of need. She would be very helpful to his future missions, and more, she’d keep him entertained and enthralled with her quicksilver mind. “We came to pay our respects to your sister,” Leo said quickly, before Gillian could continue.
“You did that last evening,” Dalton answered and gestured at the people behind him. Most of them dispersed, leaving the butler and a footman, who, at a nod from his master, lit the candles in the room.
“Our friends wish to pay their respects, as well,” Leo said, trying to think of a reason for them to do so at three in the morning.
“Yes, we did. We heard so much about your late sister from Dagmar and Leo, we couldn’t help but wish to offer up a few prayers of our own on her passing,” Plum said smoothly, elbowing Harry. “Didn’t we?”
“Yes, yes, it’s just as my wife says. Respects. Prayers.” Harry stifled a huge yawn. “Thought we’d get it over with sooner rather than later.”
“I am flattered, naturally,” Dalton said slowly, his gaze darting from person to person. “I will admit, however, to being curious about the time of day you chose to pay me such an honor. Would not later in the morning have sufficed?”
“No, it wouldn’t,” Dagmar said just as Leo was about to babble something inane. She gave Dalton a long, placid look. “I’m a princess. Those of royal birth are, by nature, an eccentric people. My dearest father used to work all night on his scholarly pursuits and sleep during the day. He said his humors were in better alignment at night, and with that, I am in agreement. You wouldn’t want me going about with disaligned humors, would you?”
Dalton stared at her for a moment. “Er…”
“No, of course he doesn’t want that,” Leo said smoothly, giving her a grin and a conspiratorial squeeze around her waist. “No one would want you disaligned in any manner. I do apologize for waking the house, though. Our intentions were purely to pay our respects and depart without anyone being the wiser.”
Dalton’s pale eyes settled on him, and in them, Leo read equal parts awareness, suspicion, and anger.
“You may leave,” Dalton said, dismissing his remaining servants. “We won’t have any further need of you tonight.” He waited until the door closed behind the two men, then strode over to the fireplace, casually examining the remains of the vases before leaning an elbow on t
he mantel and saying in a drawl, “It would appear that you have gained some knowledge that I would rather have kept private. Shall we discuss the situation, or would it throw the princess’s humors into disarray?”
“I think you’ll find that Dagmar’s humors are up to such a conversation.” Leo held out a chair for his wife, who sat with an air of controlled excitement. He gave her an approving squeeze of the shoulder before facing Dalton. Thom, Plum, and Gillian took a seat on the cat sofa, while Dagmar’s companion huddled in the corner. The men lined up behind the women. The room had the air of a courtroom, something that Dalton was evidently aware of because he glanced at the six others with a wry little smile. “I see we have jury and crown’s prosecutor. But no judge?”
“I am a princess,” Dagmar repeated, giving him a beatific smile. “I am above such petty things in life as prejudice or untoward bias.”
Leo choked. Dagmar punched him in the thigh and held on to her smile.
“Then by all means, Your Highness—”
“Your Serene Highness,” Plum, Thom, and Gillian said together.
Dagmar beamed at them.
“I beg your pardon. Your Serene Highness will naturally be ideally suited for the role of judge.” Dalton made her a bow.
“He does sarcasm very well, don’t you think?” Dagmar asked Leo. “I don’t do it at all well. Is that something you can teach me, along with prevarication?”
“I shall endeavor to do so. I live in anticipation of hearing you be sarcastic.” He faced Dalton. “Would you mind telling us why there is a dead horse—”
“Parts of a dead horse. Or rather, parts of multiple dead horses,” Thom interrupted.
“—in the coffin supposed to contain the remains of your sister?”
“And just why did you kill two innocent horses?” Thom demanded, getting to her feet. Nick said something in her ear.
“No, I will not sit down and let Leo handle this. I’ve always had a great love for horses, and two of them, two beautiful, noble creatures were ruthlessly murdered because of this man. I don’t hold with that sort of thing, and I’m certainly not going to let it pass without protest and a demand for justice.”
Truth about Leo Page 27
