With This Ring

by Amanda Quick

  “Calm yourself. It’s late. She may have taken herself off to the Drunken Cat.”

  “No, something dreadful has happened. I know it. If only we had thought to stop here earlier.” Beatrice tried the door. “It’s locked.”

  “Let me deal with it.”

  Beatrice stepped aside and watched anxiously as Leo removed a picklock. It seemed to take eons, but in reality he got the door open in a matter of seconds.

  Beatrice hurried into the tiny hall. “Quick, a light.”

  Leo obediently lit the lantern and followed Beatrice up the rickety stairs.

  “What if we are too late?” Beatrice whispered as she flew along the corridor to Clarinda’s room.

  Leo did not respond. He overtook Beatrice just as she reached Clarinda’s door.

  “I will handle this.” He knocked lightly.

  There was no answer.

  Desperation threatened to overwhelm Beatrice. “Open the door, Leo. Hurry, for God’s sake.”

  He was already at work with his picklocks.

  A few seconds later the door swung open with a protesting squeak. The light from Leo’s lantern splashed across the bed and onto the old crate that served as Clarinda’s table.

  Beatrice looked at the outline of a slender figure that lay very still and silent beneath the quilt.

  Then the lantern light glinted on the small flask that stood on the crate beside the bed. It was identical to those she had seen in Dr. Cox’s Apothecary.

  “Clarinda. No.”

  Chapter 15

  At the heart of the maze lurked a monstrous thing….

  FROM CHAPTER FIFTEEN OF The Ruin BY MRS. AMELIA YORK

  “What the bloody ’ell?” Clarinda sat bolt upright in bed, clutching the covers to her chin. Her mouth opened on a high, piercing shriek.

  “You’re alive.” Beatrice rushed toward the bed. “Dear God, you’re alive.”

  “Of course I’m alive,” Clarinda yelped. “What in the name o’ the devil are the two of ye doing in me bedchamber?”

  Leo winced as he set the lantern on the crate. “If both of you would refrain from carrying on a conversation at the top of your lungs, we would significantly cut down the risk of drawing unwanted attention.”

  Clarinda shrugged. “No one in this neighborhood will pay any mind to a few shrieks comin’ from this room. What are ye doin’ here?”

  “You’re alive.” Beatrice clutched the windowsill and sagged against the wall in relief. “You must forgive us for frightening you half to death, Clarinda. My imagination ran wild.”

  “An entirely predictable effect brought on by overindulgence in horrid novels,” Leo muttered. He ignored Beatrice’s sharp glare. “You are, I take it, feeling quite fit, Clarinda?”

  “Right as rain, m’lord.” Her thin features scrunched, she stared first at him and then at Beatrice. “What’s this all about? I ‘ope the two of ye didn’t come back here tonight with some notion of havin’ a little party with all three of us. I don’t do that mangy troy stuff anymore.”

  “Ménage à trois,” Beatrice corrected the young woman absently. “Clarinda, you cannot know how alarmed we were when we did not see you downstairs.”

  “Is that a fact?” Clarinda released her grip on the bedding and scooted into a more comfortable position against the aged headboard. It was immediately obvious that she did not wear a nightshift. “Why did that scare ye?”

  Beatrice blinked at the sight of Clarinda’s bare breasts. “Would you, uh, mind covering yourself?”

  “Huh?” Clarinda glanced down at her unclothed chest. “Oh. Sorry. Ye get sort of accustomed to bein’ stark naked in my line of work.” She obligingly tugged the covers back up to shoulder level. “My former line of work, that is. Now tell me what this is all about.”

  “It’s a long story.” Leo propped one shoulder against the wall and folded his arms. “To summarize, we have reason to think that you might be in danger because you agreed to assist us.”

  Clarinda looked baffled. “Why would I be in danger? No one knows about our little arrangement, m’lord. And no one knows I let ye hide in me room the other night.”

  “Unfortunately,” Leo said quietly, “someone may know more than we had previously believed.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Beatrice picked up the flask on the crate. Gingerly she removed the stopper and sniffed cautiously. An unpleasant odor made her move her nose away from the opening very quickly.

  “Where did you get this concoction?” she asked.

  “That?” Clarinda glanced at the flask with a dismissive expression. “Someone gave it to me today. Told me it was excellent for makin’ certain a woman in my line of work didn’t get herself pregnant.”

  Beatrice exchanged a silent glance with Leo. She saw the understanding in his eyes. They had very nearly been too late.

  He turned his attention back to Clarinda. “Who was it who gave you the flask?”

  Clarinda frowned. “A street boy named Simon. He lives in the neighborhood. Does whatever comes to hand. Picks a few pockets, runs errands, that sort of thing. He’s a good lad. Very helpful.”

  “Did he tell you where he got the flask?” Beatrice asked swiftly.

  Clarinda tilted her head to one side. “He said Dr. Cox gave it to him and that it was to settle his accounts.”

  Leo looked at her. “Dr. Cox availed himself of your services?”

  “He was accustomed to come around now and again.” Clarinda grimaced. “For scientific purposes, he said.”

  “What scientific purposes?” Leo asked.

  “He liked to experiment with some of the potions he mixed up to cure impotence.”

  “Cox suffered from the problem himself?”

  “Aye.” Clarinda flapped one hand. “Sad to say, none of his potions seemed to work on him. He didn’t come around much in the past few months. I suppose he just gave up and stopped experimenting on himself.”

  Beatrice’s pulse pounded. “But you say he sent you this potion to settle his accounts?”

  “That’s what Simon told me.” Clarinda shrugged. “I didn’t recall that he owed me anything. Told Simon to take it back, but he said he couldn’t do that or he’d have to give back the coins Dr. Cox paid him.”

  “So you took the flask.” Beatrice’s knees felt weak.

  “Seemed like the easiest thing to do.”

  Leo moved away from the wall and walked to the window. “Do you know where I can find young Simon?”

  “He comes and goes. Sometimes he hangs around the Drunken Cat.” Clarinda scowled. “Like I said, he’s a good lad. What do ye want with him?”

  Leo gazed down at the street. “I merely wish to ask him some questions.”

  “Well, I suppose there’s no harm in that,” Clarinda said slowly. “But he won’t be able to tell ye anything more than he told me.”

  “You are no doubt correct.” He folded his hand into a fist. “Damnation, this thing grows like some lethal weed. We must find the root.”

  Beatrice stirred. “Clarinda, when, precisely, did Simon bring you this flask?”

  “Late this afternoon, it was.”

  Beatrice looked at Leo.

  “He was likely killed no more than a few hours ago,” Leo said quietly. “Early in the evening, perhaps.”

  “After he had sent the flask to Clarinda, it would appear.”

  “Perhaps it was at that point that someone decided he was no longer useful.”

  “Killed?” Clarinda stiffened. “Dr. Cox is dead?”

  “Yes,” Beatrice said. “That is the reason we are here. You say that no one knows you hid his lordship and myself here the other night?”

  “No, I’m certain of it.” Clarinda looked dazed. “I told no one, and if anyone had seen you, you can wager your petticoat that Ginwilly Jack would have come pounding on my door.”

  “Do you think it’s possible that someone knows of your financial arrangement with me?” Leo asked.

  “I
never told a soul, m’lord.”

  Leo was silent for a moment. “Someone could have seen me stop to talk to you after I left Sibson’s shop the first time.”

  “Anyone who saw us would have assumed that I was just plyin’ me trade,” Clarinda argued. “And that ye declined to come up to me room. He wouldn’t think anythin’ of it.”

  “Unless he noticed that I gave you some money for services not rendered.”

  Beatrice closed her eyes. “And unless he also knows that you are in the process of buying the Drunken Cat and wonders how you came into so much money so soon after talking to Monkcrest.”

  A short, heavy silence settled on the room.

  “Yes,” Leo said eventually. “That news would raise some questions, would it not?”

  Clarinda slumped. “Not many women in my line o’ work make enough to buy a tavern, do they?”

  “No,” Leo said.

  Beatrice glanced at the flask. “It is clear that whoever is behind this believes that you know too much. Murder always carries a great deal of risk for the perpetrator, however. The question is, what made Dr. Cox decide to poison you today of all days?”

  Clarinda’s eyes became huge. “Are ye sayin’ there’s poison in that little bottle?”

  Beatrice nodded. “Very likely.”

  Leo narrowed his eyes at Clarinda. “You told me the other night that you had seen nothing out of the ordinary at Sibson’s shop.”

  “That’s true.”

  “Have you seen anything unusual since then?”

  “No.” Clarinda’s brow furrowed in concentration. “It was quiet over on his side of the street today. One of his regular customers came to see him, but that was all.”

  “When was that?” Beatrice asked.

  “Around noon, it was. I had just come out of the Drunken Cat with a meat pie. I’ve been thinking that when I take over the Cat I will improve the pies. They require more spice. And I believe I’ll add some jellied pig’s ears and potted eel to the bill o’ fare too.”

  “Was there anything that struck you as unusual about this regular customer of Sibson’s?” Leo asked.

  “He got into a fine row with Sibson, but that’s nothing new. A lot of Sibson’s customers come back to complain. I told him once that in the long run, it’s never good business to deceive the clientele with fraudulent merchandise. But he refused to listen to me.”

  “Did you overhear the argument?” Beatrice asked.

  “Bits and bobs of it.” Clarinda looked at her. “Something about a statue in a museum. Probably one of Sibson’s frauds. The customer was right furious, he was. I could hear him through the windows. Nearly knocked me over when he charged out the front door. Swore at me, he did. Not a gentleman like yerself, m’lord.”

  “Can you describe this man?” Leo asked.

  “Ye think it might be important?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “He’s very nice-lookin’ with hair the color of gold. Handsome, he is. Always wears a fine coat. In his late twenties, I should think.”

  Leo stilled. “Was he wearing a pair of spectacles, by any chance?”

  “No.”

  “Dear God.” Beatrice’s eyes flew to Leo’s. “Surely you do not suspect… Do you think it’s possible that it was…”

  “Your great admirer?” Leo asked dryly. “It certainly sounds as though it may have been Mr. Saltmarsh.”

  “But Clarinda just told us that he was not wearing spectacles.”

  Leo shrugged. “Perhaps he does not wear them at all times.”

  “He may simply have been engaged in further inquiries.” Beatrice said swiftly.

  “He gave us his word that he would stick to the business of finding out the name of the new owner of Trull’s Museum.”

  “Yes, I know, but—” She broke off.

  Clarinda looked from Beatrice to Leo and back again. “What is it? What is going on?”

  Beatrice sighed. “Clarinda, his lordship and I feel it would be best if you left town for a while. We will give you enough money to spend a week or two in the country.”

  “Leave town?” Outrage leaped in Clarinda’s eyes. “But I can’t do that. I’m going to become the proprietress of the Drunken Cat in a fortnight. It’s all arranged. Tom said he’d give up his lease on the first o’ the month.”

  Leo pulled some notes out of his pocket. “Then stay out of Town until the day you are to take over the tavern. Don’t fret. I’ll keep an eye on the Drunken Cat while you’re gone.”

  “But I don’t want to leave,” Clarinda wailed. “Me whole life is about to change.”

  Beatrice reached out to touch her arm. “Listen to me. Someone tried to poison you today. Dr. Cox, who sent the flask to you, has himself been murdered. The man you saw at Sibson’s this morning may be involved.”

  “It is beginning to appear as though Sibson is mixed up in this mess as well,” Leo said. “You may have seen too much for your own safety today when you witnessed the argument between Sibson and his customer. That may have been why Cox sent you the flask.”

  “Bloody ’ell.” Clarinda looked mulish.

  “Please, Clarinda,” Beatrice pleaded. “Say you will disappear for a few days. As a favor to me.”

  “Oh, very well,” Clarinda muttered. “I don’t want to get meself murdered just before I start me new profession.” She turned anxious eyes on Leo. “Ye promise me ye won’t let Tom sell the Drunken Cat to anyone else while I’m gone, will ye?”

  “I shall inform my solicitor that he is to complete all of the details of the purchase for you,” Leo assured her. “When you return, there will be no question. You will be the proprietress of the Drunken Cat.”

  “Well then.” Clarinda looked forlornly around her small chamber. “I suppose I’d best collect me things. Got to get to the coaching yard early. The stages start leavin’ at dawn.” Her eyes lit up with renewed enthusiasm. “‘Course, I won’t be movin’ back into this room when I return. I’ll go straight into me new lodgings over the tavern.”

  A great wave of relief passed through Beatrice. “Thank you, Clarinda. I shall sleep better knowing that you are safe.”

  Clarinda rolled her eyes. “As if I couldn’t take care of meself.”

  Beatrice glanced down at the flask in her hand. “I must ask one more question.”

  “Aye?”

  “I am exceedingly grateful that you did not touch the dreadful stuff in this bottle. But I must know, what divine providence stopped you from drinking it?”

  Clarinda gave a small snort. “Providence had nothing to do with it. I didn’t drink the poison on account of I’m about to go into a new line o’ work.”

  Beatrice blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Why would I drink it? I don’t need any potion to keep me from gettin’ pregnant now. I stopped bringin’ clients up here to me room after ye promised to help me buy the Drunken Cat.”

  “IT WAS THAT close.” Beatrice swept through the door of her study. She tossed the bundle that contained her gown, evening slippers, and gloves onto the sofa. “That close, Leo.”

  “Yes.” He crossed to the hearth and went down on one knee to prod the embers into a comforting blaze. “You do not need to remind me.”

  Beatrice went behind her desk and collapsed into her chair. She propped her elbows on the polished mahogany and dropped her head into her hands.

  “Good Lord, I cannot bear to think about it. The only reason she did not drink Dr. Cox’s poison was that she planned to change her profession from that of prostitute to tavern keeper.”

  “I apologize for what I said earlier about not being able to save everyone.” Leo rose from the hearth “You certainly saved Clarinda’s life.”

  “No.” Beatrice did not look up. “I did not save her life.”

  Leo walked to the brandy table and picked up the decanter. “If you had not convinced her that she would be given sufficient money to purchase the Drunken Cat, she would have continued in her old line of work and lik
ely taken the poison.”

  “She saved herself.” Beatrice raised her head slowly. “She seized the chance to alter the course of her own future, and in so doing, she saved her own life. Not everyone takes advantage of opportunities when they are offered, you know.” She thought of the young women she and Lucy had lost to the streets over the years. “Not even when those opportunities are dropped straight into their laps.”

  “I am well aware of that.” Leo finished pouring out two brandies. He handed one of the glasses to her and raised his own in salute. “To you, Beatrice. And to the redoubtable Clarinda.”

  “I shall certainly drink to Clarinda. May she acquire fortune and happiness in the tavern business.” Beatrice took a healthy swallow of the brandy and felt the fire all the way down to her stomach.

  When she got her breath back she put down the glass with great precision and glanced at the tall clock. It was nearly five o’clock in the morning. The town house was still and silent. Mrs. Cheslyn was asleep in her private quarters downstairs. Winifred and Arabella had not yet returned home.

  “She will be safe in the north, will she not?”

  “Clarinda? Yes, I believe so. She will be surrounded by her traveling companions for the next two days. After that she will be able to disappear into the countryside. She is an intelligent young woman. And she now knows better than to drink anything that she cannot readily identify.”

  “There is poison everywhere in this thing,” Beatrice whispered.

  “Cox was not poisoned,” Leo reminded her. “He was shot at very close range.”

  “True.” Beatrice recalled the grisly image of the doctor’s body lying in a pool of dried blood. “Who killed the poisoner?”

  “Perhaps the person who hired him to make poison. Or one of his associates.”

  “My God, Leo, what a tangle this has become.”

  “Yes.” He half sat, half lounged on the corner of her desk and looked into the depths of his brandy. “But I think we have some threads to pull at last.”

  “You refer to the connection between Mr. Saltmarsh and Mr. Sibson?”

  “Yes.”

  “Assuming it was Mr. Saltmarsh Clarinda saw today, it would not be all that astonishing, would it? Mr. Saltmarsh told us that he is very involved in the world of antiquities. It stands to reason that he knows Mr. Sibson.”