by Vella, Wendy
Michael nodded. “She is now sleeping in Abby’s room for the night?”
“Yes. That place was not fit for anyone to live in.”
“And yet people do live there, Gabe.”
He sighed. “Aye, they do. Crammed in small spaces with little food.”
They fell silent briefly, thinking of how many suffered and how lucky they were not to be among them.
“I cannot believe her brother tried to sell her,” Gabe said.
“I would like a word with him.”
“Yes, me too.”
“What do you plan to do with her and the dog?”
“Walter,” Gabe added. “Big brute, but nice enough natured.”
“I’ve always wanted a dog,” Michael mused.
“Since when have you wanted a dog?” Gabe studied his brother. “And how is it I never knew this?”
“I don’t tell you everything, brother. I must be allowed some secrets.”
“And wanting a dog is just one of them?”
Michael smiled.
“I don’t know what to do about her,” Gabe said. “How do I get her to tell me why she was working in that seedy tavern and living in that room?”
“Perhaps you could ask?”
“I tried that. It didn’t work.”
Gabe sipped his drink and thought about the woman sleeping under his roof. The woman he’d kissed… twice. He liked to fix problems, and yet she would not let him fix hers.
“Then perhaps I shall speak with her, as she likes me, and I do not intimidate people,” Michael said.
“I’m not sure it is possible to intimidate Dimity Brown, and I do not deliberately intimidate people.”
“It’s possible, and you do,” Michael drawled.
“There are a great many idiots out there walking the streets,” Gabe defended himself. “I merely point that out occasionally.”
“Forcefully.” Michael laughed.
“We need to help her.”
“Yes, she was a great friend to Abby and deserves that from us. Our sister would also expect that much from her brothers.”
“She could live here and work for us,” Gabe suggested.
“You know that she would never accept that, Gabe.”
“I know.” She had fierce pride.
“But right now, Miss Brown is the least of your problems.” Michael got to his feet.
“And why is that?”
His brother produced a piece of paper from his pocket. Gabe recognized the writing.
“We have been summoned.”
Chapter Six
“I fail to see why this could not wait till morning. It’s well past midnight,” Zach muttered. “And why must we wear these ridiculous capes?” he added as they walked down the narrow path they had walked many times before. “Who in their right mind would want to wear something like this?”
Gabe had asked his butler and two footmen to watch over Dimity to ensure she did not leave his house. He then organized for his carriage to pick up Dimity’s neighbor in the morning. After that was done, he and his brothers left for their rendezvous.
“May I remind you that this is tradition,” Michael drawled.
“Tradition can go hang itself.” Zach pulled his hood up and over his face. “However, I do enjoy being able to make faces at you lot without you realizing it.”
“I look at you and wonder how it is you can be so ruthless in the line of duty when you constantly whine like a four-year-old,” Nathan said.
“You are serving your monarchy, something members of our family have done for many years,” Gabe said, adjusting his own cloak. “Shut up, all of you.”
“There is that,” Michael added, ignoring the rest of what Gabe had said.
“We did not set this course, however. Our ancestors did,” Nathan said.
“I know that,” Zach muttered. “There was a plot to overthrow the throne or some such thing, years ago, and the Queen decided she needed a task force of sorts. Our ancestor was an idiot for putting his hand up.”
“I doubt there was much choice in the matter,” Michael said. “What is vexing is the lords who died without heirs, hence making us now part of Alexius.”
“Vexing? Really?” Nathan asked.
“It makes me sound educated.”
“You are educated,” Gabe said. “And I gave you a choice. There is also a greater need for more men today than 100 years ago. Our population has grown, and the danger to our King comes from many quarters.”
“‘You will be part of a secret group who risk life and limb to care for our feckless monarch,’ I believe you said. I do not remember a question or indeed a choice,” Michael said.
“I’m sure I worded it better than that.”
“And if you do, women will flock to your coattails,” Zach added. “Which is untrue, as no one knows what we do.”
Gabe swallowed his smile. “I gave you the option. You could have said no.”
They said nothing to that.
“And you get to wear the ring,” Zach sighed.
“Because only ten were forged and I am the eldest,” Gabe added.
“It’s my hope our king doesn’t want us to investigate a woman,” Nathan added.
“He did that once,” Gabe added. “It will not happen again.”
The current monarch liked having a task force that were specially dedicated to him. He’d asked Geraint, the steward who dealt with Alexius, to have them investigate a woman. Gabe had politely refused Geraint and was confident it would not happen again.
“It’s my hope this does not take long,” Zach said.
“Your mistress will be waiting,” Nathan snapped, and Gabe wondered if his brother was still nursing a broken heart. Nathan had kept his feelings well hidden if indeed that was the truth. It seemed he wasn’t the only Deville able to do so.
The church was in London, a small building hidden from the road. One side was blackened from fire, the other covered in a creeping vine. It was old, and a place his forefathers had been meeting for a century.
Gabe hammered a fist on the thick, scarred wood of the door four times. He then entered. It was dark, with a single candle at the rear.
A man sat at the table. They only knew him as Geraint. Tall, well built, he was solemn and serious-minded. They knew little about him, as nothing personal was discussed within these walls. It was always him they met, never the others who were part of Alexius. But the Deville brothers knew that there were more of them dotted around England, each with an ear to the ground to ensure the monarchy stayed safe. Over the years, he’d seen rings similar to the one he wore. The eyes of Gabe and the wearer met, and held briefly, but no comment had been made. All were aware of the pledge of loyalty and secrecy surrounding Alexius.
They took their seats at the round table and spoke the pledge as their forefathers had.
“Veritas scutum tibi erit.” The truth will be your shield, Gabe translated in his head, as he always did. A reminder of why they were here.
“There are whispers that someone is conspiring to eliminate our monarch.” Geraint spoke in that deep voice that carried to every corner of the small room. They’d never worked out his age, but Gabe felt it was close to his.
“There are always whispers,” Gabe said.
“Yet this one is not waning but strengthening. It is also a familiar whisper.”
Everything inside Gabe stilled. Looking at the faces of his brothers, he noted they were the same.
“Where does this threat come from?”
“France,” Geraint said softly. “We know only a name.”
“Ombrage,” Michael said softly.
“Yes,” Geraint said.
“I put a bullet through him five years ago,” Gabe said.
“We watched him fall,” Nathan added.
The night was etched in his memory. The man they’d named Ombrage, because he lived in the shadows, had killed three of the king’s guards and was minutes away from entering Windsor Castle, where he would h
ave assassinated the King of England.
“What proof do you have it is he?” Michael asked.
“An informant who has worked with us for many years was found dead.”
“Tragic, but it does not suggest it was at Ombrage’s hand,” Gabe said, hoping he was correct. Ombrage had tested and outmaneuvered his pursuers at every turn.
“We found this.” Geraint lowered a lace-trimmed handkerchief to the table. “The victim was rolled onto his back, arms crossed. That was over his face.”
“Which tells us the murderer likes lace,” Nathan said.
“The death came by a stiletto through the heart,” Geraint added.
Three hallmarks of an Ombrage murder, Gabe thought. Handkerchief, position of the body, and instrument of death.
“Christ,” Zach hissed. “Just once it would be nice for you to say ‘go here, the villain will be seated in a parlor chair awaiting your arrival. He will not struggle.’ The chase Ombrage sent us on still makes me shudder.”
Geraint’s lips moved slightly in what Gabe thought may be a smile, but he couldn’t be sure. “It is your job to uncover the information, and nothing in life is easy.”
“Never a truer word spoken,” Zach muttered. “We are indebted to our forefathers for setting us on this path,” he added sarcastically.
“So, it’s either him or a copycat.” Nathan ignored his brother, although Zach only said what they were all thinking. As yet, he’d not learned to guard his tongue.
“This incident suggests to me Ombrage escaped death and is now back,” Geraint said. “His details were never in the newspapers. I doubt it is a copycat.”
“Plunge uses lace handkerchiefs,” Zach smiled.
“Plunge is a fop.” Gabe dismissed Viscount Plunge with a wave of his hand, which in all honesty was the best thing to do when dealing with that fool. The man set Gabe’s teeth on edge and was incapable of articulate conversation, let alone murder.
“And let us not forget he could be French or English,” Michael said. “We never confirmed that, as no one saw him.”
“Except you.” Nathan looked at Gabe.
“Except me, and I only saw him from a distance. I shot him, he fell into the water, and when I searched there was no sign of him or his body.”
“And he never spoke to you?”
Gabe’s hesitation was brief, but his brothers saw it.
“You never told us he spoke to you.” Michael looked angry.
“I didn’t think there was a need, as he was dead.”
“What did he say?” Zach demanded.
“La mort t’attend, Raine, quand on se reverra.”
“What?” Nathan leapt from his seat.
“My French is not as quick as yours,” Zach said.
“Death awaits you, Raine, when next we meet,” Michael said. “No, wait. Death awaits you, Raine, when we meet again.”
“Neither is to my liking,” Nathan snapped. “You should have told us.” He jabbed a finger at Gabe.
“I thought he was dead. It appears I was mistaken. Calm down, Nathan, no one is killing anyone.”
Gabe thought back to earlier, when he’d fought the man Dimity called Clancy. He had known who he was. Could it be possible Ombrage had sent him to kill Gabe?
“What does he want, I wonder, if indeed it is Ombrage, when we are no longer at war with France?” Michael asked.
“There are some who do not think our monarch fit to rule,” Geraint said. “Assassinating the king will plunge the United Kingdom into unsettling times. Others don’t need a reason to kill a king, they simply want it done.”
“And we believe that Ombrage is backed by some powerful people,” Michael said.
Geraint nodded. “He is gathering support.”
Gabe gave each of his brothers a look. Their king did not elicit great feelings of love among his subjects, but he was their king, and that alone protected him.
“Be safe and take extra care, Lord Raine. We have no wish to see you harmed.”
“He won’t be,” Nathan snarled.
They would seek Geraint again when they had information, or if any other members of Alexius uncovered anything, he would send word.
“Anyone feel the need for physical exertion?” Nathan asked when they left the building.
“I feel the need for food, alcohol, and then sleep,” Zach said.
“Should you wish it, I will take you apart when we return home,” Gabe said. They had a room set up for exercise. It was there they went regularly to stay in top physical condition and pummel each other.
“Excellent, and those watching can drink,” Michael added. “It will help us sleep for the limited number of hours we have left to do so.”
As they rode through the streets of London, Gabe should have been tired; after all, it had been a long and trying day. What he was, however, was wide awake.
He wondered if Dimity slept, or had she tried to leave. He smiled into the darkness at the thought of seeing her again in the morning.
“What could you possibly have to smile about?” Michael asked.
“Nothing.”
“Oh, that was definitely something.”
“Thinking of brandy makes me smile.”
“Are you sure it’s not that a certain piano teacher is in residence?”
He didn’t say anything, just rode in silence home with that small smile playing around his lips.
Chapter Seven
Dimity woke in the big bed without any feeling at all in her legs. Looking down her body, she found the dog.
“Walter, you great idiot, get off at once.”
He made a rumbling sound in his throat, then crawled up beside her. A big tongue lolled out to lick her cheek.
“I can’t blame you.” She rolled over and hugged him close. “It’s a comfortable bed and unlike anything either of us have slept in before.”
She lay there hugging Walter and thinking about her next move. Dimity had no wish for Gabe to find her a position. Last night she’d been weak from fatigue, hunger, and worry and let him do as he wished. Plus, there had been that letter. She’d read it again, and it was clear to her that she was the child that her father had brought to live with him.
Why hadn’t he told her?
She would never think of him as anything but her father, but it hurt he’d never told her. Her brother, however, now him she was pleased to not share blood with.
“But who am I, Walter?” The dog whined softly. It was a strange feeling to wake today a different person from the one who woke yesterday, and not just because of where she was.
If she wasn’t her father’s child, then whose child was she? Were her parents still alive? Was she an orphan? How would she find these answers? Her father’s sister had long passed, so she could not provide them.
She would think more on this later; for now she must get up, dress, and leave this house. Dimity nudged Walter off the bed and followed. Going to the curtains, she drew them open and was astonished to see people milling about on the streets below. She never slept late, but it seemed she had today.
“We must hurry, Walter. There is not a moment to lose.”
Walter went through his morning stretching routine while she washed and dressed. Wrestling her hair into a bun without dragging a brush through it, she was ready in a matter of minutes. Retrieving her bag from the floor, she began to repack everything, stopping when her fingers encountered the letter. Who was she?
Opening it once more, she read the words again.
It is a great burden you carry to raise another’s child as your own, but you are to be commended, brother, for doing so. She will be forever grateful for your intervention in her life. It is a Christian thing you have done, and God will reward you.
One sentence had changed Dimity’s life.
When her brother had thrown her from the house, telling her to take nothing but her clothes, she’d smuggled her father’s Bible into her bag. Had she left it behind, she would never have known, and perhaps t
hat would have been a good thing.
Dimity had not looked back at the only home she’d ever known. Her father had made it such, now it was just a roof and walls.
His children had existed together, but they’d never been close, and that he was not of her blood was the only pleasing thing about that note. Folding it gently, she placed it back in the bag, then, squaring her shoulders, Dimity tied Lord Raine’s now grubby neckcloth to Walter’s collar again and left the room.
This was a house she knew well, as she’d come here often to teach piano to Lord Raine’s sister. It was big, filled with expensive things, and befitted the family that resided within its walls.
Money, Dimity thought, was everywhere she looked.
If luck was on her side, she’d slip out of the house without anyone seeing her. She’d rubbed along with the other servants before, but she had no wish to have to explain why she was here.
Down the steps they walked, past fine artworks and tapestries. She saw a maid ahead, but did not recognize her, so simply nodded and carried on. Her fingers trailed along the polished wood bannisters, and her boots sank into plush floor coverings. Beside her, Walter walked quietly. He, too, was likely in awe of his surroundings.
“I will find us a comfortable place to settle soon, Walter, I promise.”
It seemed to take forever to reach the front entrance, but finally she descended the last staircase.
“Good morning, Miss Brown.”
The butler appeared below her. He moved to stand at the base of the stairs, watching her descend.
“Good morning, Fairfax.” Stay calm, and act like you have a purpose, Dimity reminded herself. “I was just leaving, if you will get the door, please.”
“Lord Raine wishes for you to join him in the dining parlor, Miss Brown.”
“You called me Dimity before, Fairfax. I am happy for you to do so again,” She reached the bottom and moved around the butler. “And thank you, but I have somewhere to be and must not be late. Please thank Lord Raine for his hospitality.”
As her hand touched the door, it moved, and she had to step back as it opened.
“Hello, Dimity.”
