The Black Lotus (Night Flower)

by Claire Warner

  “I could be anything and you would never know,” His voice was soft, almost hushed and full of a bitter anger that she felt more than heard. In the gloom of the carriage, he became as a statue, immobile and quiet, save for his eyes which searched out her face with an intensity she found unnerving. For several moments, tense quiet reigned in the carriage, save for Jane’s needles and the noise of wheel on stone.

  “I’m sorry,” She apologised, more to break the silence than for anything else. From the seat opposite, she heard him draw a deep breath before he spoke, his voice far more gentle than it had been.

  “Don’t apologise, you have nothing to apologise for. I’m out of sorts this evening and liable to be terrible company. For that I apologise to you.” He smiled then, a strange tremulous smile as though he was dredging it from deep memory. “I must also apologise for my lack of regard, the first night we met. It was beyond rude.” His voice was quiet, genuine and missing the mocking confidence that had characterised their first meeting. Melissa looked at him sharply, wondering if this were a joke or some kind of trick, yet he stared back at her clearly. Beneath his frank and open gaze, she found herself re-evaluating their first meeting.

  “I accept your apology,” He inclined his head at her words and she stared across at him, curiosity overcoming her good manners. Beneath his chin, the lotus brooch glimmered lightly in the moonlight and a tremor of apprehension trickled slowly up her spine. Disturbed by the enamel bloom, she wrenched her eyes from it and stared up at his face, noting the smooth planes of skin, seemingly untouched by damage.

  “I heard you’d been badly beaten.” She noted, her eyes roaming over his face with surprise.

  “He did attempt to damage me but that was a few days ago,” His lips twisted into a humourless smirk. “I heal quickly.”

  “Ahh.” She answered, trying to find a way to speak more candidly though she was overly aware of Jane’s eyes and ears on them and she dared not talk more animatedly. Justin watched her, his eyes travelled over her face as she tried to formulate some small pleasantry.

  “How was Lady Shearingham?” He asked, rescuing her from her dilemma as the silence lengthened between them.

  “Oh she was well, the ball was a triumph,” Melissa seized the change of conversation like a life raft and clung to it. “Several members of the court and a good portion of the nobility attended. It was a fair evening.”

  “Hmm,” He sent a sideways glance at Jane; the maid was relaxing as the conversation moved to courtly gossip. “So who else was there?”

  “Lords Baptiste and Asquith as well as Emma Dawlish.” She hesitated momentarily wondering whether she should discuss her encounters with Alistair and Emily. What if Justin wished to know what they had spoken to her about? The silenced lengthened and she felt Jane’s eyes upon her, the sharp gaze full of curiosity.

  “It sounds like a dismally attended soiree,” Justin’s voice drawled, drowning out her thoughts. Her head snapped upright and she stared across at him, a spark of irritation entering flickering like summer lightning across her features.

  “Oh it wasn’t that,” She answered with a little heat, annoyed that he had interrupted her train of thought. Her green eyes stared into the gloom and sought out the face before her. Its smooth youthful features were calm and she felt the annoyance flare into genuine anger. What did it take to ruffle that countenance? Her thoughts fluttered around the events of the evening before settling on Alistair. She didn’t know how Justin would take the news, yet she was rattled and it wasn’t a feeling she relished. She took the smallest of breaths before plunging ahead into uncharted waters. “Your brother made quite a splash,”

  “My brother?” Justin’s head snapped upright and his eyes fixed on hers with an intensity that was unnerving. He looked shocked and more than a little disturbed as though she had brought unwelcome news.

  “Yes,” She clarified, pleased to have rattled him so thoroughly. “Your brother Alistair. He made quite an impression on the room,”

  Justin did not reply, he was running his mind over Alistair’s habits and haunts. A late soiree at the home of a society giant was not one of his amusements. A troubling thought brushed briefly at the back of his mind and he looked at Melissa, noting the slight smug gleam in her eyes. She was happy that she had garnered such a reaction from him and he did not grudge her the victory. He would have silently applauded her gumption yet he could not. Alistair changing his habits so thoroughly was disturbing.

  Melissa watched as the silence lengthened once more, Justin had leant forward, revealing a face suspiciously free of his usual calm and a wary, troubled look coated his features.

  “Lord Lestrade?”

  Justin finished his mental wanderings at the sound of her voice and dragged his mind back to the carriage and Melissa’s curiosity.

  “Alistair at a ball,” He commented dryly, visibly dragging his emotions back under his practised smooth mask of control. “How very unusual. He was never one for the court,” He brushed an imaginary speck of dust from his coat and seemed to lose interest in the doings of his brother. “I must speak to him later and see how he enjoyed himself.”

  “He was rather soberly dressed,” Melissa noted as Justin seemed to return to his usual frame of mind. She dearly wished to ask what was troubling him, yet she could not with Jane sat beside her, eyeing them carefully.

  “Well my brother is always soberly dressed.” Justin answered with a soft chuckle as a more animated smile crossed his face. “Did he strike you as being particularly entertaining?”

  “I’m not sure.” It was a truthful answer; there hadn’t been enough time to gauge Alistair’s foibles due to the dire nature of his warning. Melissa wondered whether she should inform Justin of his brother’s words, yet, her eyes drifted over to the side and captured Jane’s disapproving look. She couldn’t say anything, not here, not with the chaperone sat at her side, paying attention to every word.

  “My brother is a sombre fellow,” Justin continued, noting her sideways glance towards Jane. “He feels that social events are a waste of his time,” With an elegant finger, he straightened his cravat before resting his chin languidly in his cupped hands. “I feel differently.” A purring note entered his voice, turning his mocking voice into dulcet notes of velvet. “If I did not attend such festivities, I would not have met you. I count Alistair all the poorer for his denial of such an opportunity.” Melissa flushed as his words flowed across her ears. The timbre of his voice resonated deep within her and she stared straight at him, Jane forgotten for the moment as his eyes captured hers and one look from his hazel gaze sent shudders down her spine. Justin was looking at her, intensity burning beneath his dark lashes. In all her life she had never received such a heated glance. It was clear that he wished they were alone and the naked emotion within his dark gaze made her catch her breath. He was nowhere near her and his long fingers lay still beneath his sensuous mouth, yet she could almost feel those elegant digits flowing across her skin. She caught her breath and stared into his eyes, wishing that she could touch him. Beside her, Jane stiffened at Justin’s tone, a cold gleam entering her eyes as she regarded the young man before them.

  “I did not know you had a brother until he spoke to me,” Melissa spoke hurriedly, aware of Jane’s frown as she struggled to mask the turmoil that was rushing through her. What was she thinking of? Justin Lestrade was not someone she should desire yet she did. He was a cad, a bounder and the most charming man she had ever met. It was infuriating. All that had occurred between them confused her. His behaviour at the ball had insulted her and his sincere apology softened her heart. Watching him retreat to Westbury’s side had annoyed her and now this. This coach ride was turning out to be something surprising and she wasn’t sure how to handle it. Her voice stammered to a stop and she stared at him, confusion and hopeless desire warring in her face.

  Justin settled back and chuckled inwardly at the emotion he could read from her. Melissa had clearly not learned to mask her fee
lings that well and he could follow each change of mood with ease. At this moment she was struggling to deal with his words and her own interest. Despite his best intentions, he could not stop himself from trying to seduce her. She was beautiful and enigmatic, a prize for any man and he desired her. With a mental shake he stopped that train of thought. Melissa De Vire was more than just a conquest; he had seen a core of steel within her. He found that he did not wish to woo her so easily. Call it boredom or a sudden strike of conscience but he felt that he didn’t wish her to get too close. She could only be a distraction, a small dalliance within his life and he found that he did not wish to subject her to that. It still did not stop his flirtatious nature from coming to the fore however.

  “Forgive me for being forward,” Reaching forward he captured her hand and drew it to his lips in an apologetic gesture that still contained the heat of his desires. He felt her shiver as his lips brushed across the back of her hand. Moving back against the cushions, he caught sight of her maid glowering at him from the other side of the carriage. Putting away his mischievous play with some difficulty, he returned his attention to the last question she had asked.

  “I’m afraid my brother and I do not see eye to eye,” It was an understatement, yet he could hardly spill his tale of woe in the back of a carriage whilst under the wrathful stare of her abigail. “We tend not to think about each other.”

  “I’m sorry for you,” Relaxing now that the conversation had lost that sensual buzz, Melissa gave her full attention to Justin, wondering what had caused such enmity between the two men. Despite his mild words, Melissa was sure that whatever lay Justin and his brother was far more potent than mere squabbles.

  “Don’t be. We’ve been at war for a considerable amount of time.”

  “Have you ever considering making peace with him?” Her eyes reached out to him, concern plain in their emerald depths, causing a small ball of happiness to sing within him. It was not quite pity or sorrow, yet he could feel her worry for him and his brother and at that moment he knew why he had attempted to stay away. Her compassion and empathy were dangerous to him. She would care about him, worry for him and she would love unconditionally. For many reasons, he steered clear of tender emotions, sticking only to the baser desires of his soul. He could fall in love with the girl before him and that would do neither of them any good.

  “I…” His voice was interrupted by a shout from the coachman’s box.

  “There’s a coach coming toward us sir,” Coll’s voice drifted into the carriage, carrying easily over the noise of the wheels. “I think it belongs to the lady!”

  “Well bring us to a halt!” He ordered, a mixture of gratitude and annoyance flooding his mind as he felt the carriage slow to a walk.

  “It looks as though we’ll be parting company,” Melissa nodded; her eyes displaying a disappointment that made him feel unaccountably happy. She was sorry to leave his company and he did not wish to see her go. Of course there was no polite way to beg her to stay. Her maid was preparing to leave and he had no doubt that the old battleaxe would raise Cain if he tried to make them stay in the coach. No, the sensible decision was already made. The carriage slewed to a halt and he heard the other carriage’s wheels scrunch to a stop outside. With practised ease Coll let down the steps. Moving quickly, Justin climbed out of the coach and helped Melissa to the road. It wasn’t for any gentlemanly impulse, he merely wished to take her hands and feel the warmth of her skin.

  “Thank you for your assistance.” She smiled up at him, stoking the tiny embers of happiness within him.

  “It’s the least I could do,” He kissed her hand again, not allowing himself to linger over the smooth flesh. “I will talk to you again.” He promised in a low whisper as watched the coachman release the steps on her coach and wait.

  “Promise?”

  “I do indeed.” With her maid at her side, she ascended the steps and settled into the carriage. The tongues of the whip flickered over the heads of the four horses and the black carriage drove off into the night. Justin watched it go, the back of the carriage fading off into the distance. So deep in thought was he, that he didn’t notice the rider riding across the fields, trailing Melissa’s carriage distantly.

  “Ready to go Sir?” Coll’s warm voice echoed slightly in the air. The manservant was standing ready on the box.

  “Yes,” Justin turned back to the carriage and settled down. “Home Coll,” He ordered as he looked across at the empty seat. “It’s too late to go out now,”

  Chapter 18:

  The curtains moved in an imperceptible breeze before the closed windows. The moon shone fully on the formal gardens, highlighting the yew trees in a ghostly silver light. Melissa sat on her window seat and stared out at the scene. Since returning to her home, she had patiently endured a lecture from her nurse, the ministrations of a doctor and she was now supposed to be asleep. Yet despite the laudanum that coursed through her veins, she was unable to doze off. Justin Lestrade was preventing her rest. His voice mocking and velvety echoed through her thoughts and his eyes. She closed hers, visualising the look he had given her, the heated stare that had started her pulse racing. It was unthinkable, he was a cad and under suspicion of murder. Jane had made it very clear that, if she valued her reputation; she would steer clear of him. Melissa sighed and re-opened her eyes, she wasn’t getting anywhere with this train of thought. She snuggled into the blanket she had dragged from the bed and moved away from thoughts of Justin himself. Instead she focused on the mystery that surrounded him. Why would his brother attend a soiree simply to warn her away from him? Justin could be a murderer, yet it was a thought she steered clear of. She did not like to think of him as a killer, yet she knew that something encircled him. Whatever the Lestrade family was embroiled in, Melissa knew it was serious. Justin had gone pale at the mention that his brother had attended the ball and his calm dismissal of a feud sparked her interest. The curtain brushed loosely against her arm and she pushed it aside. There was also the matter of Justin’s family; she had not heard a single report about his parents, though there was ample evidence to say that he was due his titles. The knowledge of duelling that he displayed and the education that he appeared to have received all seemed at odds with him. He was young, barely older than she and yet he gave all the signs of someone much older. The boredom he revealed on odd occasions at these events spoke of a malaise that she often saw in her father’s friends, certainly not amongst those of her age.

  Then there was the matter of Montjoy and his companion. She had not seen the face of the man who rode so quietly beside the jaded rake, yet she knew that Montjoy deferred to him. It was his friend who had drawn him away and yet, something about that still figure worried her. She had felt the intensity of his gaze as she had mounted the coach steps, a guest of Justin. Without really knowing why, she knew that her trust of Lestrade had sparked some strong emotion.

  A draught whispered across her bare arm and she shuddered. She was not dressed for sitting at the window like this, her nightgown was thin and the chill went through her despite the blanket around her shoulders. Tucking cold feet beneath her, she relaxed back against the wall, feeling the shutter bounce slightly at her weight. A yawn rippled her features as she leant back to survey the splendour of the yew garden at night. A dreamy expression entered her gaze as she looked down at the long avenue. In the day these carefully pruned trees stood green and proud along the trimmed lawns and now they were silver with black shadows that loomed long and thin across the grey and silver expanse. A breeze tugged at the branches sending small tremors of movement through the leaves as she wondered about Alistair. He was younger than Justin and possibly even her age and yet he too seemed older than he looked. She recalled his reactions at the ball. Like the disapproval of a maiden aunt or preacher his contempt for the proceedings had been clearly written over his features. Why then had he come? Even though he had told her that he had attended the soiree in order to see her, Melissa still had trouble believin
g it. It didn’t seem possible that Alistair would be present at Lady Shearingham’s purely to see her. After all she barely knew Justin, surely Mary would be a better choice for any warnings. Then there was Emily, she had almost forgotten that intriguing little discussion amongst the drama that evening. What part did she have to play in all this? Yawning again, she decided to return to bed. The knitting needles had done little damage except to cause her to bleed excessively, yet the doctor had recommended rest for the bump on the head. Jane would be insufferable if she fell asleep on the window ledge and besides she was cold. Reaching across the ledge, she reached for the opposite shutter and started to pull it closed.