The Iron Heart

by Leslie Dicken

His expression changed instantly. A quirk of the lips, lifting of the brow. His dark eyes measured her in a quick sweep of her body. That peculiar tremble of heat swept through her blood. “Have you missed me, Ella?”

  “Humph.” She folded her arms. “I was merely making my way down the row. I had not seen this last invention.”

  He said nothing so she continued, “It appears to be a bird, although without feathers.”

  “Yes, this is my homing pigeon, Gertrude. She’s made of a light metal to help her fly.”

  She cocked her head. “Oh?”

  “I’ve set within her the coordinates of many locations. All I need to do is adjust the program to the correct coordinates and she can bring a message there and knows to return home.”

  Ellie watched as he spoke. His midnight eyes lit up and large hands moved. He may be a reserved and controlled man, but in his inventions, his passion glowed.

  “So where can Gertrude travel?” she asked.

  “Well, to Hilltop Hall, for one. In fact, she can go to the house of every peer here. It is how I sent out the notifications of the location change for this month.

  “She has a control mechanism separate from her body. That way I can adjust her remotely.” He walked over to the case, lifted the glass out of the way and perched her on his arm. “You know, she can guide you home, if you wish.”

  “I’m afraid I must decline. It’s not that I don’t trust you or your bird, but if it’s all the same, I prefer to stay here tonight.”

  He lifted an eyebrow then moved to return Gertrude.

  “Wait. She can bring a message to Hilltop Hall that I won’t be returning tonight. I don’t want anyone to worry.”

  “Did I hear you are staying the night, dear?” It was Lady Westerling. Damn the old woman.

  “I—”

  “Miss Wilder and I still have urgent matters to discuss.” Bennett stepped in. “But not to worry. She will be safe here. I will be gone through the night until dawn, so do not fear for her virtue.”

  Ellie glared up at him. For one thing, he didn’t need to save her or her virtue. Lady Westerling was probably thrilled she was staying the night. Second, where was he going all night and leaving her alone with just his servants? And Rosemary’s body.

  The old woman smiled. “Your secret is safe with me.” Then she took a hold of his free arm and cooed over the gear-made bird.

  Ellie melted into the crowd, but her interests did not return to the various wonders in the room. Now that her awareness was piqued, she could not let go of the curiosity of the room in the back. If Bennett was going to be gone all night, then there was no reason she couldn’t find her way back down here and discover just what he was hiding.

  Lady Westerling made excuses for Ellie as everyone left the gathering. She didn’t have any idea what was said, but she trusted the woman and it was better than putting on a show that she was leaving.

  Instead, Bennett took her to a separate part of the lowest level. She walked behind him and noted the way he moved. Determined, confident, an arrogant lion convinced it would capture its prey.

  The black cloth of his jacket, wide at the shoulders, narrowed at his hips then blended to the lean length of his trousers. With his equally dark hair, he all but vanished before her eyes when the light dimmed enough. At times, it was if she were in a dream, turning down dark hallways in search of the light.

  So often she felt the urge to touch him, to see if he was truly there. To have those hard muscles beneath her fingertips ground her, make this all real.

  Yet, maybe she didn’t want it to be real. She was about to come face to face with another mangled body. Another innocent girl.

  Damn these swirling emotions. She’d gone from angry to aroused to horrified in the span of a few hours. And she’d not yet seen Rosemary.

  She clenched her skirts and hurried to catch up.

  They twisted and turned, so that the oil lamps reflecting on the metal walls created more shadows than light. Closed doors and dark hallways drew her curiosity and piqued her fears.

  At long last they arrived at a staircase landing, where another shut door stood before them. A lamp cast a flickering light across Bennett’s face as he turned to face her.

  His eyes, ablaze and haunted, studied her. “I must ask you once again if you have the stomach for this. The surgeon will probably have her back together now, but she is still no sight for a lady’s eyes.”

  Unfortunately, Ellie had seen a dead, mangled woman before. Chills raced over her as she recalled Jenny’s body. How could she ever reconcile the image of jumping into a creek while holding Jenny’s hand with seeing her friend’s lifeless, blood-stained body during the darkest hour of night?

  Ellie swallowed the sob in her throat and forced down the rising bile. She could do this. She must. She straightened her shoulders. “I have seen a dead body.”

  He hesitated, blinked. She knew he wanted to ask where, how. But at this point he kept silent. “Very well then. Follow me.”

  They entered a frigid room that was also walled with metal. Hissing sounds burst forth every few minutes along with a blast of cool air. A gray-haired man sat in a chair by a small table. He was scribbling notes on a tablet. A long metal table stood in the exact center of the room. On it laid a body covered by a thin sheet and surrounded by ice.

  Goose bumps sprouted down her arms and she began to shiver.

  Bennett walked over to the table and waited for her to join him. “This,” he said as she stood by his side, “is Rosemary Sanders.” He motioned to the surgeon. “That is Doctor Elmsworth.”

  The doctor mumbled and gave a sharp nod. He was busy with his report.

  Bennett’s eyes darkened, as if rage swelled beneath the smooth surface. “You are truly prepared to see her?”

  She nodded, forcing bravado above distress.

  He sighed and slowly lowered the sheet.

  Immediately Ellie saw the resemblance. Even in death Rosemary reminded her of Jenny. Long golden hair framed a sweet, innocent face. A small amount of roundness graced her freckled cheeks, speaking to her young age, not quite a full woman.

  A fist of anguish slammed into her gut, shoving all breath from her lungs. Breathe. She must breathe.

  Bennett glanced at her then continued to expose more of Rosemary.

  Her neck showed a jagged gash, presumably the cause of death. Instinctively, Ellie raised her fingers to her own throat, as if the mere presence of her hand could keep the skin unbroken.

  As the sheet moved down, she saw that other than the obvious marks where the surgeon had cut to open her, Rosemary shared all the same bruising and slashes that Jenny had suffered. Cuts and bruises on the breasts, dark marks on her arms and between her thighs.

  Ellie shivered, turned away as tears blurred her vision. What creature would do this to someone? Hatred of only the most vile and crazed could become this evil.

  “Ella? Miss Wilder?”

  Damn it, she had to go through with this. She’d lied and made herself look like a fool in front of the whole Syndicate just so that she could be here.

  Ellie scooped in a deep breath of cold air to shock her lungs. To break her from the wrench of fear lodged in her throat.

  She crossed to the other side of the table and glanced at the surgeon. “Doctor, was there anything else you can tell us besides what is obvious to us on her skin?”

  The man glanced over at Bennett, who nodded. “I am still running tests to look for any poison, but otherwise there were no broken bones or damaged organs.”

  “I see.” The hissing began again, sending another burst of chilly air. She crossed her arms, but it did little to warm her. She struggled with her next question, but she had to know. “Was she violated?”

  “I detected only a minor tear and bruising. I believe she was not…um…fully penetrated. Or, he used something smaller.”

  “Smaller?” She shuddered at the ugly thoughts but kept going. “Such as?”

  “Fingers perhaps,
doctor?” Bennett responded then added quickly, “guessing by the bruising around her inner thighs.”

  Doctor Elmsworth nodded. “Yes, that would make sense.”

  Ellie couldn’t picture it. Good lord, did she even want to? “So the killer stood before her and forced her to spread her legs?”

  “No, I don’t think so.” Bennett walked over. “I believe he attacked from behind. I can demonstrate…if you wish.”

  Demonstrate. She would have to put herself in the position of Rosemary. Of Jenny. Oh Lord, that might just be too much.

  So she’d lied to everyone, bargained with the devil to have this chance to see if this victim had the same cause of death as her cousin. She’d seen the body, verified that this was indeed a repeat killer. It should be enough.

  Ellie glanced at Bennett. He looked impenetrable, imposing. Standing nearly a head taller than her with shoulders nearly as wide as the doorframe, he could overtake her in an instant. She didn’t fear that he would hurt her, but would his moves bleed terror into her soul?

  His arms were crossed as he waited, his eyes unreadable.

  She bit her lip and gazed at Rosemary. Spots of blood dotted her skin. Purplish bruises marred her thighs and breasts. A jagged slash zigzagged across her throat.

  But what Ellie focused on the most was her face. Sweet, freckled, round. Innocent. Even if Rosemary had been a streetwalker as she and Miles had guessed, she was still not much older than a girl. No one deserved a death like this. No one.

  Knowing exactly how the killer attacked his victims could help in immeasurable ways, especially in learning how to get free from his grasp. She could pass this information on in her paper.

  Dear Lord, she had to do this despite it bringing up the repulsive thoughts of Jenny’s last moments. Images of her struggling and screaming and then the deep, primal fear of imminent death.

  Ellie steadied herself and drew on strength buried deep. She’d do this, not for Jenny or Rosemary. But for any other girl out there who may be next. “Yes-yes, you may show me.”

  Bennett didn’t move. “Are you certain?”

  She nodded. Blazes, yes, hurry, before she lost her nerve!

  He raised an eyebrow but then moved toward her.

  She stood motionless as he came up behind her. She could feel the heat from his skin, his breath upon her hair. The scent of him washed over her. Back on the dirigible, those sensations made her breath catch, her blood warm. But now, the anticipation gave her chills of the worst kind.

  “If you are ready, my guess is this is what he does…based upon the bruises on her skin.”

  He grabbed both of her arms and yanked her back, then hooked one arm to hold her in place.

  Ellie gasped. Her pulse lurched, stomach plunged.

  The mysterious scent of him invaded her senses, heightened her awareness of his extreme proximity. This position made her intimately aware of the hard planes of his body, the strain of his unbending muscles, just as Rosemary would have been with her killer.

  Instinctively, Ellie resisted and struggled. The unbreakable weight of fear pressed on her chest, sweat beaded at her temple and under her arms.

  It was too much. Too similar to her frantic nightmares.

  Bennett released her. “We’ll not continue.”

  She panted, drawing in the sharp, cold air. For a minute, she didn’t answer. Jenny would have struggled, fought for her life. She would have scratched and kicked and screamed. Until a slice at the throat silenced her for good.

  Ellie closed her eyes, shielding her sight from the cruel world. Slowly the rhythmic hissing of air lulled her rampant fright. Then her heart slowed and panic subsided.

  “No. Continue. I need to know.”

  “I don’t believe you are strong enough.”

  She was, damn it. She was. “Go on. I insist.”

  At once, he was behind her again, pressing his body onto her back, blocking her escape with his strong fingers.

  He hovered his other large, powerful hand over her breasts.

  “He would probably molest her now, possibly force her clothes out of the way.”

  His tight grip unrelenting, Ellie was completely under his control and power. She blinked away tears. Stay in the present. Don’t think of Jenny.

  “Then he would most likely force her legs apart.” Lord Barrington thrust a leg between hers. Her rump now rested on his strong thigh.

  Her pulse clamored, erratic and shrill. Her breathing labored. She pushed down the impulse to scream.

  “I could only guess that he would then rip her skirts off or yank them up enough to reach between her legs.”

  Ellie watched his fingers skim her stomach and rest just a few inches away from her skirts at the crux of her legs.

  Her eyes snapped shut. She couldn’t watch. A cry thickened in her throat.

  Bennett drew in a great gulp of air. “Then I believe he would end her life by slicing her throat.”

  This time his hot hand clamped down around her neck, the fingers coming to rest just inches from her cleavage, his leg still shoved between her thighs.

  Every muscle in her body screamed for freedom. She wanted to squirm, kick and wrestle her way from his grasp, just like before. But she held herself still, awaited Bennett’s next move.

  Lord Barrington said nothing. His breathing, too, was arduous, his muscles taut.

  Ellie cued on each place his body touched hers. Her bottom pressed against his muscled thigh. One of his hands clamped around her wrists, while the other pushed lightly on her throat. Long fingers rested just shy of her breasts.

  Earlier today, this contact would have had her burning with a smoldering awareness. Now this proximity made her ill.

  Suddenly, Bennett shifted behind her and cool air swirled between their bodies. Hoarsely, he uttered, “Go,” and freed her from his clutches.

  Ellie stumbled briefly and by the time she’d righted herself, Bennett was across the room.

  He stopped at the door, his back to her. “I will be gone through morning. The servants have been alerted to your stay. Feel free to remain as long as you like but do not expect to see me again.”

  Bennett stood in the darkness of his bedchamber, eyes closed, hands fisted around his goggles. The low hum of pistons and creaking of gears were the only noises in the house. This was one night he was damn thankful to be leaving.

  Ella Wilder had worked her way under his skin and now he could not force her from his mind. He could still hear her breathy, passionate pleas. Her sweet, earthy scent danced just out of reach on his tongue. Mostly the warmth of her skin, the sight of her voluptuous treasures scorched a path through his bloodstream.

  The demonstration of the attack had been a mistake. He should have known what it would do to him.

  But he was determined to frighten her, determined to show her he knew how to proceed. That he didn’t need her help.

  Now, the beast was unlocked from its cage.

  For so long he’d tried to keep it hidden, he’d kept it locked away where only lurid dreams and reckless nights unbolted its doors.

  Ella had just the right combination of intellect, curiosity and beauty to stir those banked embers.

  Bennett sucked in a deep breath of calming air.

  As if the past several months of hunting the streets of Lundun had not been hell enough, now he had one more thing to concern him. One more thing to contain and control.

  His lust.

  A knock sounded on his door.

  “Enter.”

  His valet, Jenkins, stepped just inside the dark room. “The S2 Flyer is ready, my lord.”

  “Have you refilled the water crystals?”

  “Yes. You have enough to supply you with a fortnight of flights, at least.”

  His father, the genius, had invented a machine for condensing water down into small crystal pellets. Once the pellets were heated, they gave off the energy of many gallons of water.

  Bennett snorted. The crystals brought his family more
money than they ever had inherited. And yet, they were the very thing which brought about the recklessness of his brother.

  The brother he’d spent years looking after, saving from hardship and failure. With his mother dead and his father focused on his inventions, Bennett had watched over Hugh. But Hugh had never been one to listen, to reason, to think clearly. He was constantly into trouble, perpetually in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  Even as an adult.

  Bennett sighed and gathered the small kit of supplies. He left his rooms and headed for the roof where he climbed into the single-row two-seater, started the engine and powered on the lights.

  He could put Ella out of his mind and focus on the task ahead. Distractions could be deadly and already he’d failed at tracking down his quarry.

  After midnight, Ellie stole from her room and descended the main steps to the entry floor without encountering another soul. Once there, she managed to find the way to the lowest level. At that point, she entered a maze.

  She held an oil lamp and turned its light up as brightly as it would go. Fear clawed at her every step. So many shadowy hallways and closed doors, too many chances to find herself lost in the dungeon, alone in the dark as she was so long ago.

  The lamp swayed with the shaking of her hand.

  Still, she would not give up. Jenny saved her once, but Ellie had been too late to save her in return. Now she would not fail.

  That mysterious room haunted her with the secrets it might contain.

  At long last, one metal wall looked more familiar than other. She turned and backtracked until she located the room with all of the exhibits. A trail of breadcrumbs would have been a better idea.

  At the back of the room, she found the door. The handle was not locked. She slipped inside and quickly shut the door behind her.

  She held the oil lamp aloft and surveyed where she stood. Bennett’s workshop.

  Benches and desks with strewn gears, bolts and fittings surrounded her. Inventions lay in stages of creations but one made her pause more than the rest.

  An arm with a fully constructed hand and fingers sat on a metal stand. It was covered in a lifelike skin, concealing all gears and springs.