She held back her last thought, which was that the duke might never fully recover and, if he did, that he’d be haunted by what he’d done when under Moriarty’s influence.
Gregor already seemed haunted. “It was a near thing, in the end, to defeat Jared. I was too late to help you and Anne.”
We are both alive.” She touched her shoulder. “And free of infection, I’m told. That is a victory, Gregor, even if it does not feel like one now.”
Gregor stood, pacing over to the window, looking up at the stars. “If only Cooper had waited to confront Moriarty. Or if only my mother and Ja—Edward Dale had waited to talk to Cooper.”
“Cooper was an honest man. And likely he confronted Moriarty because he wanted his friend and mentor to prove he was innocent.”
“Trust cost him. But it cost Moriarty too.” Gregor tapped his fingers on the windowsill. “He was angry and killed Cooper to keep him quiet, and it turned into his downfall.”
“Did it?” She folded down the covers. No fever but she was a bit hot. And restless. “He could go to Scotland Yard and tell them Jared killed Cooper, with Phyllis as his witness.”
“No.” Gregor cut the air with his finger. “Whatever control he had over Phyllis is gone. They left separately, that much I uncovered after you were settled. Phyllis went to her father’s cabin, gathered some things, and left, who knows where.”
“A plague on both your houses?” Joan asked.
“That would be my sentiment in her place,” Gregor said. “And Moriarty fled to the town. I have a witness who saw him at the train station, but then he vanished.”
“So the local authorities accept he killed Cooper?”
Again, a curt nod. “I told them so, that the hanging was staged to throw suspicion onto the duke. The Lotus Hall servants who were awakened because of the battle in the nursery, without prompting, told the local constable of Moriarty’s attack on Anne that night.”
“But Moriarty must have other allies, at many levels.”
“Close to thirty mages personally loyal to him, if all that Moran ‘disappeared’ have been turned by our former headmaster,” Gregor said.
Not reassuring at all. Joan closed her eyes. Their work was not close to done.
“Plus, there’s the talented scholarship students and who knows how many peers?” Gregor smacked a fist into his hand. “Though,” he said in his driest voice, “he does seem to have killed most of the nobles he controlled over the years. That may narrow his allies.”
Moriarty was a fugitive. And he’d promised war on the night he fled. “He’s out there, plotting. And I’m holding you back.”
Gregor focused on her once more. A small smile grew on his face. He crossed the distance between them and kissed her hand. “You never hold me back.”
“Then rest with me, so when I am well, we can defeat Moriarty together.”
He curled up with her. Belatedly, Joan realized she’d made her decision for her immediate future. She and Gregor would stop Moriarty, whatever it took.
The next day, Gregor finally believed her recovered enough to be left alone and he vanished to track Moriarty, if he could. But he asked permission first and Joan gave him her blessing, though only after making him promise not to attack Moriarty on his own.
That afternoon, she walked to Victoria’s rooms and was allowed to hold little Jasper as she rested in the great sitting room. Joan stared into the baby’s eyes for a time, wondering if that soft shade of gold would remain or turn blue or brown. She searched for any resemblance to Gregor but, alas, the baby seemed more like a wizened old man. Victoria, also finally allowed out of bed and into a chair, assured her that the baby’s looks would improve. Joan hoped so.
In the days that followed, Agnes took charge of little Jasper, handling the baby with as much aplomb as any of her other duties. Her backup, oddly, was the elder Jasper Sherringford, who handled a baby better than any man Joan had ever met.
Henry, the driver of the flying carriage, was recovering too. He’d been offered a room in the family quarters to recover but said he preferred his own rooms.
Meanwhile, Nick spent his time hovering over Reg, who’d suffered a badly broken arm in the fray.
Anne appeared a week after the attack, asking for sketches of the dress that Joan had promised her. She showed no traces of her ordeal, likely because Gregor had been able to take his time to remove the controls from her brain.
That was a happy ending. And sketching the dress gave Joan something to do to pass the hours, along with one other special project.
Gregor returned a few days later, looking as haggard but not nearly as defeated. No firm news, he said, but his people were alert.
And so it was that two weeks after Moriarty had been defeated, the elder Jasper convened a family meeting, including Joan and Reg in the family. They gathered in the duke’s own sitting room. The only ones not present were Victoria, who was still weak and needed rest, and little Jasper, who was too loud.
The elder duke had resumed his identity of Edward Dale because no one knew what the implications would be of abandoning his disguise.
Jared offered to resign as duke in favor of his father but Jasper refused to even consider that. “I’m dead, son. In more ways than one, a different man came down from Everest. Let it go.”
Keeping the secret would give them an advantage in the coming fight, Joan thought. Phyllis knew her “father” was an imposter but had not guessed his true identity and neither had Moriarty. Better it remain this way.
Though, wherever Phyllis was, she must be seething about it.
Jasper had dropped most of his illusions. Instead, he’d subtly altered his looks to better resemble his brother. That he’d lost weight in the past two weeks helped.
“I understand the reason for the deception, Father,” Gregor said. “But you caused Phyllis Dale irreparable harm by not bringing her into your confidence immediately.”
“We were worried about tipping off Moriarty,” Vai said.
“Whatever the reasoning, you lied and deceived Phyllis instead of trusting her. No wonder she was vulnerable to Moriarty,” Joan said.
“Yes.” Jasper stood and faced them, leaning on his cane. “I wronged her. I intend to find her. And help her, any way I can.”
“We will help her.” Vai laced her hand in his. “As soon as we are both at full strength.”
“What about making amends to us?” Nick said. “I’m having trouble separating the original sin of not informing us of your survival the moment you could.”
Reg, his arm in the sling, stood at Nick’s side, silently judging the older couple.
Jasper hung his head and sat again, defeated. Vai sighed.
“I did what I thought was right at the time,” she said.
“You only found him, Vai. He’s the one who chose to stay forgotten to us for a decade,” Jared said.
Joan sympathized. She knew the pain that fathers who failed their children could cause. And yet…
“It will take time for all of you to heal from this,” she said. “Maybe even a long time. But your father is willing to make amends. In that, he’s better than my own father, who rejects me and refuses to acknowledge his part in my mother’s actions.”
Silence. Nick looked away. Gregor met Joan’s gaze and nodded. Time. They all needed time to heal.
“But what if I do not feel up to my responsibilities?” Jared asked. “How can any of you trust me now?”
“You’re my brother,” Nick said, simply.
“The family is stronger with you as head, Jared,” Gregor echoed. “And you have a wife who is more than capable of helping you.”
“You have run the dukedom far better than I ever did,” Jasper said. “You’re focused on it. I was not.”
“And how much of that was me and how much was…” Jared too, had lost weight the past week. He was hollow-eyed, tentative in his movements.
“It was all you,” Vai said. “You learned how to be the heir from an ea
rly age and took on those responsibilities as a boy. Even before you went to Isca.”
Jared grunted, sounding much like Gregor.
That seemed decided, Joan thought, hoping her contribution had made a difference. She liked Jasper Sherringford. He’d spent time at her bedside, talking about Gregor’s childhood, his love for Vai, and his many regrets.
He could confide in her, perhaps because he’d not harmed her by his actions.
No one would punish Jasper more than himself, she thought. But since Vai was willing to give him a second chance, perhaps his sons would in time.
“Now that we’ve gotten our pound of flesh from dear father,” Nick drawled, “can we get on to the main event: what happens now that the most respected headmaster in the British Empire has been exposed as a manipulator of minds, a murderer many times over, and who craves complete control over our government?”
“We find and destroy him. I have my informers in London searching for him and his allies,” Gregor said. “Milverton’s people are also looking for any sign of him or his influence. As a first step, we can also help the peers who spent time privately with Moriarty at Isca School and remove his controls on them.”
“Do we even know who they are?” Jared asked.
“Yes. The flying carriage did not die in vain. When Nick and I searched Cooper’s quarters, we found another list, this one compiled by Cooper, and it included the still-living boys who were Moriarty’s special pupils. That list provides us with a start.” Gregor shook his head. “We owe much to Cooper.”
“I will speak to Bertie,” Jared said. “That may be the best way to get the truth to the right people. Um, assuming he wasn’t one of Moriarty’s pupils?”
“No, Bertie’s an indifferent mage. Drove his late father crazy on that point,” Jasper supplied. “No Isca School for him.”
Bertie. Albert Edward, Prince of Wales, the future king. His father, Albert, the Prince Consort, was the one who’d first discovered how to wield magic. And these people called the heir to the throne “Bertie.”
What rarefied circles she’d joined, Joan thought. But their rank had not protected the Sherringfords from loss and grief.
“Bertie’s incorruptible, at least in these matters. He can lead a quiet government search,” Jasper added.
“As for those we know are under Moriarty’s control, Gregor is their solution, as he said.” Vai looked at her son. “I should have valued your power more when you were younger.”
“Thank you, I think.” Gregor snorted. “It should be great fun, breaking into the homes of the peers of the realm and probing their minds, doing God knows what damage to them in an attempt to cure them.”
Gregor’s sarcasm was back, black as ever. Joan smiled.
“Better that than Moriarty’s controls,” Jared said. “You fear you hurt me, little brother. But you healed me. I’m myself again, alone in my head.” He closed his eyes, breathed out. “I’d never have seen my son or Victoria or Anne again, without you and Miss Krieger.”
Gregor accepted the gratitude with no visible emotion but Joan could read his eyes and the set of his shoulders. His brother’s admission meant a great deal to him.
“We all have tasks ahead,” Vai said. “But I hope we can learn to face them together, as a family.”
“No more secrets,” Gregor said.
“Agreed,” everyone answered.
The meeting broke up at that. Jasper, Vai, and Jared went to hover over Victoria and the baby. Nick and Reg said they were going for a stroll in the gardens.
Joan wandered to the room she’d first occupied at Lotus Hall, in the east wing, and sat under the window again. She stared at twinkling stars.
She would leave Lotus Hall soon. Yet, in only two weeks, it had begun to feel familiar.
Not home, perhaps, but part of her.
Gregor appeared not long after.
“You were mostly quiet in the meeting,” he said.
“Most of it was not my problem to solve. Jasper has to make amends. You all have to let him.”
“Indeed.” Gregor knelt before her. “Turnabout is fair play.” He clasped her hands. “I never knew what it felt like to have one’s world turned upside down by someone I love keeping secrets until these last few weeks.”
“I sympathize, you know that.”
“Indeed.” A deep sigh. “Joan, when I investigated your mother, I kept my suspicions to myself. I thought I was protecting you.”
“I know that too.” She closed her eyes against the memory of her mother’s last seconds alive. “I wish I’d known what she’d done. I could have tried to talk to her. But perhaps I would not have believed you. Perhaps I would have done something foolish to prove it was not true, as Cooper did something foolish to prove the person he believed to be his friend was innocent.”
“Perhaps, perhaps not,” Gregor said. “But I did not give you that choice. I should have. I should have also told you my suspicions that Dale was my father. Secrets kill.” Gregor kissed her palm. “Cooper, I believe, kept knowledge of his suspicions about Moriarty from Phyllis, likely to protect her. But if she’d known…”
“She could have pointed to Moriarty as her love’s killer immediately.”
“And I’ve made that same error, not telling you everything, though not with consequences as dire. I can’t change the past, Joan. I can pledge to do better in the future.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. “That means a great deal.” She believed him. Her mother’s deception had changed her life. And his family secrets had changed him, in ways he likely did not know yet.
She traced the shadow of the beard along Gregor’s jaw. “You’re working too hard just now.”
“You’ve changed the subject.”
“Have I?”
“Yes. I had a point to my confession. I’m on my knees for another reason.” He cleared his throat and stared up at her. “Joan?”
No, he could not be… “Yes, Gregor?”
“Marry me. Not because you need protection or I want to protect you. Because I love you and cannot imagine my life without you.”
“Oh.” She was at a loss for words. “That was well said, Gregor.”
He rose and held her. She closed her eyes, let his arms envelop her.
“Tell me, do you believe in marriage aside from the civil implications?” she asked. An tentative idea had begun to form on her sickbed. She was certain of it now.
“I believe in you,” he whispered. “I will swear fidelity to you, Joan, if you will swear so to me, and I would consider us married, whatever the law believes.”
“No rabbi will marry us.” But God might. Yes. “But a joining of the souls? I believe God would bless our union, whatever type of ceremony or language we use to ask for his blessing.”
“Good. That’s settled.”
She opened her eyes. He was grinning. She laughed. “That sounds less like a declaration of love than the satisfactory conclusion of a business deal.”
“Then we will let actions prove the emotion.”
Which he did, with those long, talented hands.
Another week later, the family stood beneath the open sky, at the center of the underwater ballroom. The sides were already repaired and the top of the dome with its custom-made lens would be in place in another month.
Joan and Gregor were not willing to wait that long.
Joan stood in the center with Gregor, with Vaishali serving as their rabbi or priest or celebrant, whatever term was preferred. Gregor and Joan had created the ceremony, a blend of the traditions of his mother’s Hindu family and Jewish tradition.
Joan wore a dress of her own design, sewn quickly with the help of the most talented seamstresses at Lotus Hall. Nothing fussy, a dress of pure white silk, as befitting family tradition, with full sleeves and a high collar, but no train or other adornment. She’d left her hair unbound.
For Anne, Joan had made a light blue dress in a similar style. The girl had beamed. Joan wondered if she’d ever t
ake it off.
Still, the rest was highly unorthodox. Perhaps a rabbi would consider this ceremony blasphemy or sacrilegious. Her father would certainly condemn it.
But, as they kissed, the sun’s rays surrounded Joan and Gregor in a natural nimbus of light.
This was God’s blessing, binding her to Gregor and he to her far more than any civil license.
Joan had no words for when Gregor’s gaze met hers.
“You have chosen to walk a most difficult path, love,” he said.
“No,” she said. “I’ve chosen you and we will walk it together.”
He smiled and drew her close. “Together. I so swear.”
Also by Corrina Lawson
The Steampunk Detectives:
The Curse of the Brimstone Contract
* * *
The Phoenix Institute Series
Rise of the Firestarter
Dark Inferno
The Immortal’s Ghost
Out of the Ashes
The Phoenix Institute Novellas:
The Brightest Shade
Ghosts of Christmas Past
* * *
The Seneca Series:
Warriors of Seneca
Eagle of Seneca
Carnal Blessing (erotic novella prequel)
* * *
Stand alone:
Love’s Inferno, a dark paranormal erotic romance
About the Author
Corrina Lawson is a writer, mom, geek and sometime superhero. She is a former newspaper reporter with a degree in journalism from Boston University. She turned to writing fiction after her twins were born (they were kids three and four) to save her sanity.
Corrina is currently Content Director of Geek Mom and a core contributor to its brother site, Geek Dad.
Sign up for her newsletter and be automatically entered in a random drawing for the geek treat of the month. Plus, news of the month, including events at comic cons, conferences, and my favorite geeky reads.
A Hanging at Lotus Hall Page 26