“Don’t look at me! If you do, I shall have to kill you, Lady Chesterton. I shouldn’t like to do that. I’m a reasonable fellow. I don’t enjoy killing women who’ve done nothing to hurt me.”
“Then please just let me go,” Hebe pleaded as she stood before Lewis’ door.
“I might if you behave yourself.”
He reached around her and unlatched the door. Drops of water splashed onto her face from his wet hair. She was aware of how big he was leaning over her smelling of sweat and wet wool. “Get inside.”
Hebe walked into the shadowy room, relieved to find Lewis’ bed had not been slept in. “The dresser,” the man urged.
Hebe pulled open drawers. “It’s not here,” she said after a while. “I didn’t think it would be. Perhaps Lewis took it with him.”
He still stood behind her. “Then that will be unfortunate for him.”
“We don’t know who you are. Why take such a risk? Go away now and you’ll be safe.”
“I don’t like loose ends. I tidy them away by whatever means necessary.”
His words sent a chill through her. “Perhaps the library then?” she asked. It gave her time. And the night porter might discover them. He was armed. Lewis had insisted on it.
“Very well. Lead the way. And no tricks.”
As they left Lewis’ apartments and descended the stairs, the man behind her all the while, Hebe wondered how he’d managed to break in. The house was locked up tight at night. Unless they’d left the front door unlocked for Lewis. She wasn’t sure of the way things were done. She’d never taken much notice. Doors opened like magic and she passed through them. Now she feared if a servant did come across them they would be harmed. Could she escape this man somehow? She must think.
The corridors were empty, a lamp turned low on a table, no doubt for Lewis. The library when they reached it lay in darkness. The man still carried the candle in its silver candlestick holder. He put it on the desk.
She risked a peek. He was tall, broad, and dark-haired. He had tied his cravat across the lower portion of his face. “You’ll look away if you know what’s good for you,” he said striding over to the desk. Keeping an eye on her, he rummaged through the papers, and opened the drawers.
She lowered her head and stared at the carpet, listening for footsteps crossing the tiled floor of the entry hall. “You don’t see the letter, do you?” she asked in a loud voice. “I told you, you wouldn’t.”
“Be quiet or I’ll deal with you.”
“What will you do now?” she asked. “You won’t find it here. And Lewis won’t return from the country tonight.”
“Then I shall have to remove it from him when he does.”
An icy shiver ran down her spine. This man was cornered and extremely dangerous. He had a knife, and he might also have a pistol.
“What will you do, shoot him? You’ll have the whole house awake. You can’t possibly get away.”
He stepped behind her and his big hands framed her neck. “I have these. He firmed his grip, making it hard for her to breathe.
Hebe’s knees buckled. But before she fell to the floor he had caught her around the waist. “Don’t swoon on me. You’re safe for now. If you behave.”
She prayed Lewis wouldn’t come back tonight. Could the porter have heard them?
“You’d best leave, before the porter finds you.”
“That poor fellow was too slow on his feet,” the man said.
She gasped. “You’ve hurt him?”
“I doubt he felt much.” The man closed a drawer. “Nothing here. We’ll go up to your husband’s bedchamber and await him.”
“But he won’t be back until tomorrow. You can’t take on the whole staff!”
“I can manage your husband and his valet,” he said. “They won’t be thinking too clearly when they rush to your aid.”
He prodded her hard in the back. “Out.”
Hebe stumbled as her mind filled with horror for the porter. She fell to her knees, hoping to at least delay the brute. But he grabbed her elbow and heaved her to her feet. “Don’t try any more tricks,” he snarled.
It didn’t matter what she did. He was going to kill her. The thought made her strangely calm. Hebe straightened up and opened the door. She had to distract him somehow. “Did you kill Marigold?” she asked him.
“The harlot who accosted me at Holland House?”
“Why did Marigold do that?”
“Her brother had something on me. Wanted payment.”
“Seth?”
“I’ve dealt with that problem too.”
She climbed the stairs slowly her knees threatening to give way. “What did Seth have against you?”
He pushed her hard from behind. “Ask a lot of questions, don’t you?”
Hebe shuddered. How long before he killed her?
When they reached the landing, he pushed her into Lewis’ bedchamber. “Seth Crabbe saw me kill a prostitute who tried to rob me in a Covent Garden alley. He foolishly decided to blackmail me. Sent his sister to Holland House to get the money. Stupid fellow.”
Hebe stumbled into the bedchamber as her anxious breaths drew in Lewis’ fresh citrus scent. She had to keep him talking. “Why did you kill Laura?”
“She toyed with me. Treated me like muck beneath her shoes.” His voice was an angry murderous growl. “That arrogant mongrel Lancaster double-crossed me. Backed out of a scheme and cost me a fortune. So, two birds with one stone.”
His words robbed her of breath. She must try not to provoke him again.
~~~
It would have been the sensible thing to put up at an inn until the weather cleared. The going was frustratingly slow, and Lewis was forced to stop to rest his tired animals more than once. But he did not intend to leave Hebe alone any longer than necessary.
When he reached the stables, he saw to his horses then strode toward the house searching for signs that anyone was awake. A candle shone out from the tall staircase window. Someone climbed the stairs to the bedchambers. It could be one of the staff although why it should be at this hour eluded him.
That it might not be a servant, set his heart beating fast as he ran through the rain for the front door. The servants’ door would be locked, but the porter would be in the entry hall to admit him. To his horror, he found the door unlocked and Jeb, the night porter lying prostrate, bleeding over the tiles with a broken urn beside him. He crouched to examine him. There was a gash to his head, but the fellow still breathed. He began to come around as Lewis dragged him into the salon and laid him on the sofa. “Stay here, Jeb. Don’t make a sound,” Lewis said, while he tied his neck cloth around the man’s head. “Someone will come and see to you in a little while.”
Jeb murmured something incoherent and fell back on the squabs.
Lewis ran to the library and took his pistol from the cupboard. He loaded it then headed for the stairs. The possibility that the swine might have his hands on Hebe made Lewis sick with fear. He fought to calm himself as he swiftly gained the upper landing. Which room might they have entered? His, he decided.
Lewis took a gamble and slipped through Hebe’s door. Her bedchamber lay in darkness and a quick investigation told him what he feared. The bed was empty the covers swept back as if she’d just left it.
Lewis crept into the sitting room and with foreknowledge easily found his way in the dark to his chamber door. He leaned against it and listened. Horror flooded through him like icy water at Hebe’s soft voice.
“It’s foolish to wait here until tomorrow,” she said in a calm tone. “You won’t be able to remain awake. What if my husband doesn’t come home until late?”
“He’ll be back soon. A man doesn’t leave a delectable woman like you for long.”
“The storm. It may not be possible…”
“Be quiet and take down that curtain rope. Time to tie you up, my lady. And I’d best gag you before you anger me and force me to do something I’ll regret.”
His fingers curling hard
around the pistol, Lewis seized the latch.
Chapter Twenty-One
Hebe shook with fear as she removed the silk tasseled curtain cords from their hooks on the wall. Did he really plan to tie her up or would he use them to strangle her?
“Turn your back,” he ordered and jerked her arms behind her. He was in process of tying her wrists when the door flew open.
“Osborne!”
She gasped. “Lewis! He has a knife.”
Osborne spun Hebe around and pulled her in front of him, the knife at her throat.
“What the blazes!” Lewis cried. “Hebe! Has he hurt you?”
“No,” she said faintly, afraid to move.
“You hurt a hair on my wife’s head and you’re done for, Osborne.” Lewis’s pistol wavered. He took a step forward.
“Careful,” Osborne warned.
“I never expected it to be you,” Lewis said as if trying to distract Osborne from his purpose. I suspected Nicholas Thorn.”
Behind her she could feel Osborne straighten and preen. “Thorn is a gutless bully. All piss and wind.”
“Why show your hand? You might have got away with it,” Lewis said. “Whip! Of course. You were once Chief Whip for the Whigs were you not?”
“Laura found that amusing. I couldn’t chance it. When Michael spoke of the letter, I had to have it. He was foolish to put it about in White’ Club on your behalf. Are you going to shoot me, Chesterton?”
“Let Hebe go, Osborne. She has done nothing to you. We can settle this between us.”
Osborne grunted. “I doubt that would serve me well. This delightful lady is my key to survival. But if you don’t drop that gun I’ll cut her throat.”
“You hurt her, and I’ll kill you,” Lewis growled. He threw the pistol onto the carpet and took a step back.
“You won’t get the chance,” Osborne snarled his grip tightening.
Osborne’s breath feathered Hebe’s hair. She cried out. “Oh, God. Stop this, please!”
In the scuffle the cravat had fallen from Osborne’s face. She searched his broad visage reflected in the mirror, the faint gleam of sweat over his cheekbones. He was taut as a wire and breathing fast, a cold blank look in his eyes. He was a killer, and wouldn’t hesitate to kill them both. She choked out a cry as the knife dug into her neck, and grew still, a pulse throbbing at her temple.
“First, the letter if you please,” Osborne said.
Lewis put a hand to his coat.
“Slowly,” Osborne said.
Lewis withdrew the letter.
“Burn it.” Osborne breathed faster, the stench of his sweat sharp in her nostrils.
Lewis held the paper up to the candle. It caught, and burst into flames. He threw it into the fireplace. “Let Hebe go, now!”
Osborne backed away toward the door pulling Hebe with him.
The door suddenly opened. Dunstan, Lewis’ overly zealous valet poked his head in.
“Go away, Dunstan,” Lewis roared.
With only one candle in the large room half lay in shadow. Dunstan peered shortsightedly at them. He uttered a dismayed squeak. “I hadn’t realized you’d returned, my lord, I’d forgotten to take your shirts to the…” He stopped, and horror crossed his plump face. “Please excuse me.” He turned away.
“Come in, Dunstan,” Osborne said. “And join us. I insist.”
With a confused look, Dunstan opened the door wider. His gaze on Osborne, he stumbled as he entered.
Distracted by the valet, Osborne allowed the knife to slip slightly from Hebe’s throat. She pushed away, falling to her knees.
“No you don’t,” Osborne snarled bending down to her.
Lewis scooped up the gun.
An explosion, and the rank smell of gunpowder filled the room.
Two bodies fell to the floor.
~~~
Lewis rushed to Hebe’s side. He helped her to her feet. “Is he dead?” she asked in a whisper.
“I think so.” Lewis glanced at Osborne’s prostrate body. The ball had found his heart. He turned to Dunstan who had fainted and was now weakly pulling himself into a sitting position on the floor. “All right there, Dunstan?”
“I doubt I ever shall be again, milord.” Dunstan dusted his trousers with a grimace. “I’m profoundly glad you dealt with that nasty fellow, whoever he was.”
“Pour yourself a brandy, and one for my wife, if you will.” Lewis strode to the bell pull. “We must send for the Bow Street magistrate.”
Within an hour, Hebe was dressed and sitting in the salon drinking coffee. Half the staff were awake, and the reception rooms were bright with candlelight.
When the magistrate arrived, Lewis pulled the letter from his pocket as he explained how Osborne’s death came about.
When Hebe gasped, he explained to her that he’d burnt the map he’d drawn to guide him to Lilly’s house in Guilford.
During the following two hours, the body was removed to the morgue, and a doctor arrived to treat the night porter. He attended to the cut on Hebe’s neck where the knife had pieced the skin.
Finally, the house fell silent, and retiring upstairs, Lewis joined Hebe in bed.
Hebe lay with an arm over his chest. “It was all so horrible. Are you all right, darling?” she anxiously asked.
“I’m just thankful he didn’t hurt you.”
Hebe shuddered. “He had such a refined voice. If I’d met him in a ballroom, I would never have guessed at his violent nature.”
“Laura came to realize it. And feared him.”
“Yes, she would have.” She shuddered. “He had the coldest eyes.”
“She should’ve come to me,” Lewis said trying to hide his anguish. “Asked for my help.”
“She would have been ashamed as well as frightened,” Hebe mused, “because her behavior would rebound on you and her brother.” She stroked his hair back from his forehead and kissed him. “Her association with Lord Lancaster was to keep her safe, put an end to her fears. But you can never be sure, Lewis. You must let it go.”
He sighed. “First thing in the morning I’ll send a note to Michael.”
“He will be pleased.”
“Relieved to put this behind him, certainly.”
“And the ton will hear of it and know you are innocent,” she said, with an encouraging smile.
“The newspapers will get hold of it. A lord of the realm committing murder is big news.” Lewis sighed and smoothed his hand over the curve of her hip. “Osborne might have gotten away with it. Hard to bring a lord to justice.”
“He took a big chance coming here. He must have feared you’d found out about him.”
“It looks that way. Once having learned about the letter from Michael, Osborne came with the intention of killing me and whoever got in his way.” His hand firmed at her waist. “He was a man who fed off violence. He’d avoided capture before so must have been convinced he would do so again.”
“Oh, Lewis!” She buried her face in his neck.
“We’ll go to the country next week, sweetheart. For a month or so. We’ll ride and enjoy the peace and quiet. And I’ve promised Dunstan some country air to settle his nerves.”
“What about the statue?”
“I’ll finish it first. Not much to do now.”
“Will you sell it?”
“Never.” Her body still trembled.
Lewis drew her to him. “Dear God, Hebe, if I’d lost you… I love you so very much.”
“Oh Lewis. I love you too!”
She was here, and she was his. His anchor, his searing passion, his peace. He lifted her chin and pressed his mouth to hers.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Lewis had been toiling hard for a week. He tossed down the file. “One needs to know when to stop. Any more and I’ll ruin it.”
Hebe replaced her teacup in its saucer and left the table to inspect the marble Aphrodite. Sensuous and elegant, her bare feet resting on a plinth, she gleamed in the sunlight, so smooth that
Hebe was drawn to stroke a hand over the statue’s shoulder. “She is very beautiful, Lewis.”
He placed an arm around Hebe’s waist and smiled at her. “I had a beautiful model.”
“Where will she be displayed?”
“In one of the niches on the staircase. I plan to replace a statue there.”
He meant the bust of Laura. For a moment, Hebe wanted to protest. Whatever his first wife had done, Laura did not deserve her horrible death. Hebe felt strongly that the evidence that she’d lived and had been undeniably lovely should not be hidden away. She pulled back to search his serious brown eyes. What Laura had done and how she’d died still hurt him. Perhaps it always would. “What will you do with that one?”
“Give it to a gallery.”
She nodded, pleased. “The bust is exquisite. It deserves to be viewed.”
He kissed her cheek. “You’re a remarkable woman, Lady Chesterton.”
She sighed as she studied the statue. “No. A mere mortal, I’m afraid.”
“A flesh and blood goddess,” Lewis said. “And what a lucky fellow am I?”
She shook her head with a laugh. “I must leave you, I’m afraid. I have to advise Molly about what to pack. This afternoon I plan to visit Emmy. Confined to the house, she complains of being most dreadfully bored. I shall describe my new gowns, and Madame’s inspiration for my ballgown. That is sure to entertain her for a little while. But I fear I will then have to read the newssheets with her and discuss the latest gossip.”
Lewis pressed a kiss to her lips. “Take Thomas.”
She raised a finger to stroke along his jaw. “We have nothing to fear now.”
His gaze firmed. “Nevertheless.”
“You are turning into Colin,” she accused.
Lewis looked rueful. “I am now in sympathy with him.”
Hebe shook her head and pretended to be exasperated. It really pleased her that he cared so much. She left him and walked down to her bedchamber. It was difficult to grasp the fact that the frightening mystery no longer hung over them. The Bow Street Runner, Mr. Bright, had called to tell them that Seth Crabbe’s body had been found in an alley in the Seven Dials. He’d been stabbed and had been dead for some time.
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