Regency Wolfe: A de Wolfe Pack Connected World collection of Victorian and Regency Tales

by Mary Lancaster

  She took a final look at Lizzy’s grave, then turned to leave.

  “Is that you, Ginny?” a voice said from behind her.

  Ginny turned. A smile lit her face. “Hello, Reverend Fletcher.”

  The reverend returned her smile and walked toward her.

  He was so very handsome—tall and broad-shouldered—and held himself in a dignified manner. She’d never understood why he hadn’t remarried after his first wife died. Perhaps he’d loved her so much that no one could take her place.

  Ginny’s smile broadened. It wasn’t that no female had tried to snatch him for her husband. There was always a crowd of widows and single women vying for his attention after each Sunday morning service. And the reverend never lacked a Sunday dinner invitation.

  “I haven’t helped but notice that you’re a frequent visitor to Elizabeth de Wolfe’s grave. I didn’t realize you were close friends.”

  “Not close, but we were acquaintances.”

  “Her death was such a tragedy,” he said when he reached her.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you think the inspector will ever discover who was responsible for Elizabeth’s death?”

  “I have no doubt he will,” Ginny answered with confidence. “In fact, I believe he is quite close to discovering the murderer as we speak.”

  Reverend Fletcher raised his eyebrows. “Do you?”

  “Yes. The last time we spoke, he was quite hopeful that he was close to finding his cousin’s killer. Oh! I nearly forgot! These are for you.”

  Reverend Fletcher took the bundle but offered not a word of thanks. Instead he plied his question.

  “Was he? Close to an answer, you say?” Reverend Fletcher said, although his expression didn’t match the excitement in his voice.

  Ginny blanched. Reverend Fletcher must know that his son was one of the prime suspects. He could hardly be excited to know that the inspector had found more proof to indict him. She shouldn’t have told him what she had. And she mustn’t tell him his sons were with the constabulary at this very moment being interviewed. It would be too painful for him to hear.

  Ginny felt the need to leave. She didn’t want to talk about Lizzy’s murder with the father of the prime suspect in Lizzy’s death. Besides, it was getting dark and she wanted to get home before the sun was completely gone. “If you’ll excuse me, Reverend Fletcher, I really must be going.”

  “Yes,” he answered. “It’s getting late. But I can’t allow you to walk home alone. It wouldn’t be safe. I’ll accompany you.”

  Ginny smiled at his thoughtfulness. “That’s not necessary, Reverend. I’ll be fine.”

  “Nonsense, Virginia. It would be my pleasure. Besides, I have a letter that needs posting, and the posting office is right on the way.”

  “If you’re sure,” Ginny said.

  “Of course. Of course. Give me your arm.”

  When Reverend Fletcher extended his arm for her to take, she hesitated. For some reason she didn’t feel comfortable holding on to him. She didn’t feel safe.

  She chided herself for feeling so foolish. This was Reverend Fletcher. The entire St. Dunstan’s congregation adored him. He was beloved by everyone who attended his services every Sunday.

  Ginny mentally called herself every sort of fool then placed her hand on his arm and walked with him through the gate of the cemetery.

  “I hope you don’t mind taking a different way home, Virginia. I always find going through the side entrance to the churchyard much more relaxing. I don’t know whether it’s the trees, or the small stream that runs nearby, or simply the quietness of the area, but I always enjoy going this way.”

  Ginny didn’t find the way they took peaceful in the least. In fact, she was becoming more wary with each step they took. “I don’t believe I’ve ever been this way before,” she said. “I wasn’t even aware that there was a path behind the churchyard.”

  “Yes, it’s seldom used, which makes it ideal. There are times when I prefer to be by myself, and this path provides me the isolation I desire.”

  Ginny looked around. They were surrounded by a dense wooded area. What little sunlight there was in the sky was hidden by the thick grove of trees. An uneasy sense of concern settled over her and she looked around to find the nearest opening that would lead them to a clearing. But she couldn’t find one.

  “Do we have much farther to go?” she asked the reverend.

  A smile lifted the corners of Reverend Fletcher’s mouth. But the smile she saw didn’t calm her. The look on his face seemed sinister. And Ginny realized she was afraid.

  “No, we’re almost there.”

  Ginny tried to walk faster, but Reverend Fletcher wouldn’t allow her to increase her pace. She tried to lift her hand from his arm but he wouldn’t allow her to separate herself from him. She tried to escape his grasp, but he threw away the baked goods and grabbed her upper arms. With an angry push he pressed her back against a tree.

  The rough bark ate through the material of her cloak and scratched her skin. Ginny knew she was in danger. She suddenly realized that Reverend Fletcher was the man who’d killed Elizabeth de Wolfe. And he intended to kill her, too.

  “It was you. You killed her.”

  The moment the words left her mouth, a sinister grin spread across Reverend Fletcher’s face. “Of course I killed her. I had to kill her. Just like I had to kill them all.”

  “Why? Why did you have to kill them?”

  “Because they were wicked. All of them. They were beautiful and they used their beauty to tempt men. Just like Bathsheba tempted David. Just like Elizabeth used her beauty to tempt Wesley.”

  “They loved each other. They were going to marry.”

  “No! I couldn’t allow it. She would have deceived Wesley just like Ralphy’s mother deceived me.”

  “Did you kill her?”

  A slow smile lifted the corners of Reverend Fletcher’s mouth. “She was the first. I had to kill her. She’d given me Ralphy. I had to make sure she couldn’t have more babies like him. He was my punishment for allowing the Bathshebas to continue deceiving us. Now it’s your turn.”

  “No.”

  “It saddens me, Virginia. But I’ll have to tell your sisters you went mad. As mad as your dear mother, God rest her soul. But you,” he growled, “you worked your feminine wiles and brought that de Wolfe fellow into my sanctuary. I can’t have that. No, that will not do at all.”

  He twisted her hair, jerking her head cruelly back.

  Ginny struggled to free herself from Reverend Fletcher’s grasp, but his fingers only tightened around her arms. She doubled her fists and struck him in the chest and belly, but her efforts were wasted on his superior strength. Finally, she was able to free one hand and raked her fingers down his face.

  Reverend Fletcher pulled back his hand and slapped her hard.

  Ginny screamed, then screamed again, but she knew her cries for help would go unanswered. The only chance she had of being heard was if someone happened to be in the cemetery. And that wasn’t likely. No one would be at the graveyard this close to dusk. No one ever was.

  Unless she could overpower her assailant, she wouldn’t survive. Reverend Fletcher would kill her just like he’d killed Lizzy.

  Ginny fought him with all her might. She kicked him and bit him and struggled to get free. She gathered all her strength and raked her fingers down his cheek one more time.

  “You harlot! You whore!”

  Ginny took pleasure in the blood that streamed down Fetcher’s cheek, but her relief was short lived. The blow he issued this time caused stars to appear behind her eyes. Her world seemed to shift and spin around her.

  She screamed again and he struck her harder to silence her. Then he wrapped his fingers around her neck and squeezed.

  Ginny fought him until her world went dark.

  Chapter Twelve

  Will ate the distance to St. Dunstan’s church and cemetery as if the hounds of hell were on his heels. They were. />
  Everything made sense now. All the clues Lizzy had given them. All her words of warning. The clue that the killer wasn’t what he seemed. Who would seem more unlikely to commit murders than a man of God, a man of the cloth?

  But this was a man Ginny had told him she loved like the father she missed so terribly.

  Will berated himself for missing the clues that stared him in the face. How could he not have noticed that a female had been murdered every other year on September 16th? Had murders become so commonplace in his line of work that he could overlook another innocent female’s death?

  But in his defense, they hadn’t all been in his civil parish. Indeed, they hadn’t all been in London.

  Will neared St. Dunstan’s church and stepped inside the chapel. The church was empty. No one was there.

  “Reverend Fletcher,” he called out. No one answered.

  He called out again, but was met with the same eerie silence.

  Will exited by the side door and took the path that led to the cemetery. “Reverend Fetcher!” he called out louder.

  Silence.

  It was getting late. Perhaps Reverend Fletcher had gone home. Perhaps Will would find him in the rectory. He called out again, then headed for the side exit to the cemetery that led to the rectory where Reverend Fletcher lived. He’d only taken a few steps when Wesley Fletcher stepped out onto the path, breathless, as was Will.

  “Were you looking for my father, Inspector?”

  “Yes, Fletcher. I was. Have you seen him?”

  Fletcher shook his head. “I was looking for him, too.”

  Wesley closed the distance that separated them, then stopped when he was directly in front of Will. A concerned expression covered Wesley Fletcher’s face. There was also a frantic look in his eyes. Will was instantly on alert.

  “May I ask why you were searching for my father?”

  Will didn’t respond immediately.

  “Does it have something to do with Elizabeth’s murder?”

  Will’s heart raced faster. “Why do you ask?”

  Wesley Fletcher closed his eyes and took in an unsteady breath. “You know, don’t you? You’ve figured it out.”

  Will gave a sharp nod.

  Wesley Fletcher swiped his hat from his head and raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m glad. I’m very, very glad.”

  Will felt his temper rise. “How long have you known your father killed all those women?”

  “I didn’t know until Elizabeth’s death.”

  “Then why the bloody hell didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you come to me?”

  Fletcher turned. He took enough steps away from Will so they were separated. “I wanted to… but I couldn’t.”

  “You couldn’t? Why the hell not!”

  Fletcher spun back around. “We don’t have time for this! Ralphy and I have been taking turns watching him. Our visit to the police station made that impossible just now, you know.” He cast an accusing look at Will and they both whirled around as footsteps came thundering out of the darkness toward them.

  “Wesley! Wesley!”

  “Here, Ralphy! I’m here.”

  Ralphy came lumbering toward them, breathing hard and with a terrified look on his face.

  “He got her. He got her! Oh, Wesley!”

  Before either of them could ask who he had, the first scream echoed in the darkening sky.

  “He has Miss Ginny!”

  Will ran toward the sound. He willed his feet to fly, yet he felt as if his shoes were weighted down with lead. Wesley Fletcher was right behind him, and Ralphy was trying his best to keep up with them, but his movements were more cumbersome.

  Will ran through the trees and when the second scream tore through the air, he bellowed a warning in hopes that Reverend Fletcher would release Ginny and run for his life. But he was more afraid that he would complete his task of killing her, then flee.

  “Ginny!” Will bellowed as he ran forward.

  Will burst through the low hanging trees, ignoring the branches that snaked out to cut his flesh. His feet seemed to skim the ground, his heart pumping wildly. It wasn’t until he reached a secluded area that he saw them.

  Reverend Fletcher had Ginny pinned against a tree. His fingers were clamped around her neck and her flesh had turned blue.

  Will burst forward, a sense of destiny overtaking him that swirled into his muscles and made him feel lighter than air and stronger than steel. With a monstrous flying leap he slammed into Reverend Fletcher and knocked him away from Ginny.

  Flesh hit flesh, and the reverend flew to the ground. Will drew back his arm and pummeled his fist into Fletcher’s face. Blood spurted from the reverend’s nose and his mouth, but Will didn’t stop hitting him. Again and again he took aim until Reverend Fletcher’s head dropped to the side.

  “Enough, Inspector,” Wesley Fletcher said, clasping his hand on Will’s shoulder. “Miss Wattersfield needs you.”

  Hearing Ginny’s name was like a splash of cold water. Will pulled away from Reverend Fletcher and bolted to his feet. He looked over to where Ginny had been and saw her cradled in Ralphy’s arms.

  Will dropped to her side.

  “Ginny,” he said, brushing strands of hair from her forehead. She was alive, but she was hurt. Will needed to get her home. She needed to be seen by a doctor, and then she needed her sisters to take care of her. Will took Ginny from Ralphy.

  “Fletcher,” Will said when he held Ginny in his arms. “Go to Seething Lane Station and tell my constable to send some men back with you. Tell him we’ve got our killer.”

  Wesley Fletcher nodded and took off toward Will’s office.

  “Ralphy, you stay here with me. I may need you before Wesley returns.”

  Ralphy turned his attention to where Reverend Fletcher lay. “I won’t let him hurt you,” he said. “I won’t let him hurt anyone ever again.”

  “I know you won’t, Ralphy.” Will brushed his fingers over Ginny’s cheek. “You saved Miss Virginia, you know. If you hadn’t come for Wesley and me, he might have killed her.”

  Ralphy looked at Ginny in Will’s arms and smiled. “Pretty good job. Pretty good job.”

  “That’s right. Ralphy. You did a mighty good job.” Will lowered his gaze to the woman in his arms. He loved her more than he thought it was possible to love anyone. He loved her more than his own life. He didn’t know how he could have gone on living if he hadn’t reached Ginny in time. He wasn’t sure he could have.

  He leaned down and kissed Ginny on the forehead. Her eyes fluttered, then opened.

  “Will?”

  “Yes, sweetheart.”

  Ginny’s eyes were filled with terror and the color was still drained from her face.

  “You’re safe. We have him.”

  “It was Reverend Fletcher. He’s the one who killed Lizzy.”

  “I know.” Will hugged her tenderly. “Wesley went for help and Ralphy is here with us.”

  “I want to go home,” she said, burrowing against him.

  “I’ll take you home as soon as the constables get here.”

  She breathed a deep sigh, then closed her eyes as she relaxed in his arms.

  Reverend Fletcher was starting to stir when Wesley returned with Thompson and Wallace. He tried to deny he had anything to do with the attack on Ginny, but everyone ignored him. “Lock him up,” Will said when his officers looked at him for instructions. “I’ll be back later to press charges.”

  Wesley put his arm around his brother. “Come on, Ralphy. You’re coming home with me tonight.”

  Will rose to his feet with Ginny in his arms and walked away from what was almost the scene of her murder. He couldn’t allow himself to think what might have happened. He couldn’t let his mind think how he would have survived if he hadn’t reached Ginny in time.

  He held her in his arms as if he never intended to let her go. She possessed his heart. He couldn’t imagine a life without her.

  And anyone who tried to get in
the way of that would come face to face with a legend. A man folks called the greatest warrior of all time.

  William de Wolfe.

  Epilogue

  Will and Ginny entered the gate to St. Dunstan’s cemetery. It had been six months since they’d arrested Reverend Fletcher for the murder of Elizabeth de Wolfe. Six months since the scandal broke and the reverend had been put on trial. Six months since Reverend Fletcher had been convicted and hanged.

  At first the members of St. Dunstan’s congregation refused to believe that Reverend Fletcher could have committed such heinous crimes. But when Fletcher brazenly admitted to the murders, the members of his parish turned on him with the fury of the saints.

  The trial took only six days. Reverend Fletcher was found guilty and scheduled to hang the following week.

  Neither Wesley nor Ralphy stayed in London for the trial, or for the execution. Wesley took Ralphy on an excursion to the north so they wouldn’t be in London. They’d been gone for several months, but were back now. That’s why Will and Ginny were here. They’d arranged to meet Wesley and Ralphy in the cemetery.

  “Welcome back,” Will said in greeting. Wesley and Ralphy stood together at Lizzy’s grave, and Will and Ginny joined them.

  “Inspector. Miss Wattersfield,” Wesley greeted. Ralphy repeated the greeting.

  “I’m so glad you’ve returned, and everything is finally over,” Ginny said. She lowered her gaze to Lizzy’s grave, thankful that Lizzy could finally be at rest.

  She’d come here several times in the last six months, but Lizzy hadn’t spoken to her once since Reverend Fletcher had been convicted and hanged for her death. Flowers had sprung up across the foot of the stone which no longer looked dark and pitted but gleamed with a high polish.

  Ginny doubted she’d ever hear that disembodied voice again. She knew there was nothing more for Lizzy to say now that the man who’d killed her was no longer alive to kill again. She was free.

  The four of them exchanged pleasantries for a few moments, then Ralphy indicated that he wanted to tend some of the graves in the cemetery and left to do what he loved best. When he was out of hearing, Wesley Fletcher turned his attention to Will and Ginny.