“Do you think Chief Inspector O’Rourke has been hiding Croydon?” Elysande asked. “If he is, that could be why he dismissed the idea of finding him and returning him to prison. He would have wanted him to remain free. And if he wanted him to remain free and feared you were getting nearer to discovering Croydon, then either Chief Inspector O’Rourke or Croydon himself must have murdered Mrs. Ainsley in an attempt to pin her killing upon you.”
“And when O’Rourke did not have sufficient evidence against me, he decided to fabricate it with the aid of Mrs. Lamson,” Hudson concluded. “Until it was determined that the lady in question was of more use dead than alive.”
“My God, Hudson. We have to find a way to put an end to this madness before anyone else is hurt or killed.”
Grim determination settled over him. “I will.”
Chapter 17
“Absolutely not.”
Elysande crossed her arms over her bodice and pinned Hudson with a glare. “You cannot think I will just allow you to do this alone.”
His jaw tightened, but he continued his methodical actions, checking his pistol barrel. “I will not put you in danger.”
He stood in his shirtsleeves and trousers in her chamber, looking very much like a warrior about to go to battle rather than a duke who was dressed for a dinner he was not going to attend. From the moment he had announced his plan to confront Chief Inspector O’Rourke, she had been determined to accompany him. She could not shake the fear, gripping her heart with relentless strength, that he would not return to her alive.
She shook her head. “I cannot stand by while you face Chief Inspector O’Rourke on your own. If everything we suspect about him is true, then he could be capable of anything. Moreover, if he is truly colluding with Croydon, you will be facing two villains, not just one.”
Hudson remained stern and unmoved by her attempts at reasoning with him, however. Calmly, he tucked the pistol into a pocket concealed in his waistcoat. “I am aware of the possibilities. I will leave you with your family for dinner as we discussed. You will remain there until I am able to return. If I should not return—”
A choked cry of denial fled her at his words. The thought of anything happening to him was anathema. He was so vital and strong, so beloved to her.
“You must return,” she managed, tears clogging her throat and making her eyes sting as she blinked them furiously away. “I could not bear it if some manner of harm befell you.”
“If I should not return,” he continued, as if she had not spoken, “you must ask your father and brother to go to Scotland Yard with all the evidence we have collected. The comparison of the prints at Mrs. Ainsley’s murder, the interviews with witnesses who vouched for my presence at the times of both murders, the suspicions we have about O’Rourke.”
If I should not return.
Those words filled her with fear, for she knew what he truly meant. If he were killed. Murdered as callously and cruelly as Mrs. Ainsley and Mrs. Lamson.
This time, the tears could not be contained. They filled her vision and rolled down her cheeks as she dashed them away. “Hudson, please. I do not see why you do not simply go to Scotland Yard with the evidence yourself. It will be far safer.”
“O’Rourke is far too cunning. There is only one way to put an end to his machinations.” Hudson’s voice was low and grim.
Lethal.
“You cannot mean to kill him yourself.”
“I need to stop him before he hurts anyone else, Ellie.” His gaze was bleak.
“What about you?”
“I do not give a damn about myself.” He donned his coat, concealing the pistol’s telltale bulge. “My primary concern is you. It is possible he will go after you next. I would gladly lay down my life for yours.”
“But I do not want that.” She went to him then, grasping his lapels, frustrated and desperate and terrified of what was to come. “I want you here with me. I need you. I love you.”
She had not meant to make the revelation in this way, but she did not regret her confession. If he was intent upon facing a madman—perhaps even two—this evening, she wanted him to know how very loved he was. To know her heart was his.
His arms went around her suddenly, holding her tightly to him. “I love you too, Ellie. More than I can properly convey.”
On any other evening, these words would have filled her with happiness. But this evening was fraught with fractured hopes, rife with fear and uncertainty. The very real possibility she would lose him choked her.
She answered him in the only way she could, by rising on her toes and pressing her lips to his. Their kiss was frantic and harsh, laced with the salt of her tears.
Stay with me, she told him with her lips.
Never leave.
Bring these evil men to justice in some other way.
When he lifted his head, breaking the connection, a shuddering sob tore through her. “Please, Hudson. I am begging you. Do not do this. I love you too much to lose you.”
“Do not cry, my love.” His lips brushed over her cheek, catching her tears as they fell. “This is simply the way it must be done. I have dragged you into this hell unwittingly, but I will be damned if I allow you to be harmed by it.”
She clutched him, knowing she was wrinkling his lapels but not caring. “Come back to me. I need you to promise you will.”
His mouth found hers once more, the kiss bruising and quick. “I promise you I will do everything I can to come back to you, sweet Ellie.”
“What a charming little spectacle. You will have to pardon my intrusion.”
The familiar voice sent ice through her, the breath freezing in her lungs.
Hudson reacted quickly, making amends for her immobile shock by hauling her behind his back, placing himself between her and Chief Inspector O’Rourke.
“O’Rourke,” he spat. “What the hell are you doing in here?”
“I am an officer of the law, Your Grace,” he said calmly, smugly. “Unlike others who are mere pretenders, playing at the role they once occupied.”
Heart racing, Elysande dared a peek around Hudson’s tall, protective form. O’Rourke stood at the threshold of the closed door, a pistol drawn and pointed directly at Hudson’s heart. Her mouth went dry.
“You are an abomination to the law,” Hudson countered, his voice tight with barely restrained fury. “You abetted a convicted murderer in escaping from prison.”
“I did nothing of the sort.” O’Rourke flashed a calm smile, reaching into his pocket and extracting a blood-stained blade. “Imagine my shock to discover the murder weapon used to kill your lover Maude Ainsley here in your chamber.”
He tossed the knife to the floor at his side.
Dear God. What madness was he plotting now?
Fury warred with terror within her as she stepped from behind Hudson’s back, refusing to cower behind him. “You are a lying, vile monster!”
“Ellie, get behind me,” Hudson commanded, his voice like the crack of a whip.
“Do not move,” O’Rourke bit out. “Neither of you.”
“Behind me, Ellie,” Hudson repeated calmly.
“I will face him at your side,” she said, her mind whirling with how they might possibly thwart this madman.
How could they save themselves?
Hudson shifted slightly, moving nearer to her.
“I said don’t move,” O’Rourke snapped through clenched teeth. “Imagine the horrors of discovering the murderer duke after he had just killed his duchess. The newspapers will be agog with the story.”
“Do not harm her,” Hudson said. “She is an innocent and does not deserve to die at your hands any more than Mrs. Ainsley or Mrs. Lamson did. You killed them did you not? Was it you or was it Croydon?”
O’Rourke grinned. “Dead men cannot commit crimes.”
Dear heavens. Understanding dawned.
“You killed Croydon as well?” Hudson asked, shifting in her direction ever so slightly once more.
/> Enough that their fingers grazed.
She took comfort in that touch, however small.
“The stupid bastard was threatening me. It had to be done,” O’Rourke said.
“That is why you were so certain he would not be found.” Another slight step.
It occurred to her that Hudson was attempting to distract the inspector. Perhaps he had a plan.
“Unfortunately, Mr. Croydon did not enjoy his freedom for long.” O’Rourke’s expression turned sinister. “I could not afford for him to reveal my involvement in his crime ring. I am rising in the ranks. And then you had to turn up, relentless in your determination to find him. I couldn’t allow that to happen. But no matter how hard I tried to make certain you would stop and go back to playing duke, you were like a damned dog, nipping at my heels. I started following you around the city. You were getting closer. Too damned close. When I saw the woman go into your rooms, I knew what had to be done.”
“You killed Maude Ainsley,” Hudson said.
“She was a drunken whore,” O’Rourke said dismissively. “She deserved what happened to her. Everything was falling into place perfectly, except for the witnesses placing you at that damned club.”
“So you invented a new witness,” Elysande guessed. “Mrs. Lamson.”
O’Rourke’s lip curled, his mustache twitching. “Another whore. She wanted more money from me after I already paid her twenty pounds for her story and another ten to cause a disturbance outside Dunsworth when Croydon escaped. But she overestimated her worth. Besides, you just kept thwarting me, didn’t you? That ends tonight.” He pointed his pistol toward Elysande. “Duchess, come closer. Slowly.”
“Do not go,” Hudson said, keeping his voice low. “Remain where you are.”
The inspector sighed. “Perhaps I shall just kill her now and have done with it.”
“There is no need for her to be involved,” Hudson told him, his voice remarkably calm. “I am the one you want. Take me. She will not breathe a word of your involvement to anyone. Will you, Ellie?”
Oh, no. She would not allow her husband to sacrifice himself to save her. If this was to be their end, they would face it together.
She met O’Rourke’s gaze, chin up. “I will tell the whole world what a lying murderous manipulative, soulless scoundrel you are.”
“Ellie,” Hudson growled, a note of warning in his tone.
“Do as I say or it will go worse for you,” O’Rourke snarled. “Move toward me slowly. One step at a time. Keep your hands before you, palms facing the ceiling.”
There was no choice but to do as the inspector demanded. If she remained at Hudson’s side, there was every possibility he would shoot one or both of them. She needed more time. They needed more time. She refused to believe this would be how they met their fates.
That they would have found each other, fallen in love, only to be murdered by this vile creature.
“Sit in the chair,” O’Rourke commanded, gesturing to an overstuffed wingback by the fireplace.
Still moving slowly, she did as he asked. As she settled on the cushion, the oil lamp burning on a table at its side caught her attention. She thought of the day she had been toiling in Papa’s workshop and had broken a lamp.
You are fortunate you did not light yourself on bloody fire, Hudson had said.
That lamp had not been lit. This one, however…
This one could produce the distraction they required. Overturning it would be dangerous in more ways than one. There was every possibility O’Rourke would shoot her. There was also the possibility the flames would spread quickly. However, clearly, O’Rourke had not entered the chamber in time to see Hudson secreting his pistol. If she could cause enough distraction, it was possible that Hudson would be able to reach for his weapon and shoot the inspector.
“Now, I have two pills for you to swallow, Duchess,” O’Rourke was saying, taking care to keep his pistol trained on Hudson, who remained standing still and stoic where she had left him. “I promise this will be painless.”
As if she believed his promises. Here was the same man who had callously admitted to murdering three other people. Her gaze flicked to Hudson. The anguish on her husband’s face was palpable. O’Rourke intended to poison her and then either place the blame of her death upon Hudson or kill him as well. He shook his head.
“No, Elysande. Do not do it,” he said.
“Shut up,” O’Rourke snapped as he reached into his jacket, presumably to extract the poisoned pills.
Now was her chance.
Elysande threw her arm wide, striking the lamp and shoving it from the table.
“Damn it, you stupid bitch!” O’Rourke cried.
What happened next seemed to unfold all at once and yet with otherworldly torpidity. The glass base shattered on the floor at O’Rourke’s feet, sending flame licking over the carpet and catching his trouser leg aflame.
He cursed and shook his leg, lowering his pistol in the shock of the fire singeing his skin. In the next moment, the loud report of a pistol echoed in the chamber and red blossomed over O’Rourke’s chest.
He clutched the wound in surprise, his own pistol slipping from his fingers to the floor.
“Run, Ellie!” Hudson cried.
O’Rourke slumped to the carpets, blood trickling from his mouth, his eyes wide and unseeing.
It was over. O’Rourke was dead. He could no longer hurt anyone now. But the fire was spreading over the rug, smoke and flame growing.
“Ellie, get out of here!” Hudson called, throwing a pitcher of water on the flames.
She shook herself from the stupor that had overtaken her and rose from the chair, rushing past the inspector’s fallen form, her long skirts trailing through the rising flames. In a blur of movement, Hudson was upon her, swatting out the flames and bundling her from the room.
“You are safe now, Ellie,” he said, sweeping her into his arms. “I have you.”
“Look away, my love.” Hudson pressed a kiss to her temple and the arm wrapped around her waist tightened protectively.
She did as he said, knowing Scotland Yard detectives were now removing the body of Chief Inspector O’Rourke. Hours had passed since the fire had been contained and police had been called. She was still wearing her burned scarlet gown, wearier than she had ever been, and overwhelmed by the events of the evening, but she and Hudson were alive and a monster had been stopped. That was what mattered most.
“Do you have any more questions for us, Chance?” Hudson asked the sergeant who had been working through the extensive details of O’Rourke’s crimes. “My wife is growing weary, and I should like to remove her from this mayhem soon.”
The younger man was lean as a whip and clearly held her husband in highest regard. “Forgive me for keeping you for so long, Chief Inspector—er, Duke. I expect you are exhausted after your ordeal. Just a few more questions, if you please. Chief Inspector O’Rourke admitted to killing Reginald Croydon, correct?”
“Yes,” Hudson answered, giving Elysande’s waist a gentle squeeze. “He confessed that he had been one of Croydon’s connections in Scotland Yard, but that prior to Croydon’s arranged escape from Dunsworth, he began threatening O’Rourke with revealing the nature of their association. I believe O’Rourke arranged for the escape. Shortly after Croydon was freed, O’Rourke must have killed him.”
“He said Croydon did not enjoy his freedom for long,” Elysande recalled, shuddering as the memory of being at the inspector’s mercy hit her once again.
“When I began to investigate Croydon’s escape, O’Rourke grew desperate,” Hudson added. “He murdered Mrs. Ainsley in the hopes her murder would sufficiently throw me from my course. But he could not arrest me for the crime because I had witnesses proving I was not present at the time of the murder. When that failed, he paid Mrs. Lamson twenty pounds to come forward as a new witness claiming she saw me.”
The level of O’Rourke’s duplicity was appalling.
“He brought
the knife he used to kill Mrs. Ainsley as well, with the intent to suggest he had found it in my husband’s possession,” Elysande added. “Were you able to find it?”
“Yes, madam.” Sergeant Chance cleared his throat. “Your Grace.”
“If there are fingerprints on the knife, it may be possible to compare them to the fingerprints where Mrs. Ainsley was murdered,” Hudson added. “My wife’s father, Lord Leydon, has been documenting the characteristics of the fingerprints from the crime scene. Undoubtedly, they will be found to match O’Rourke’s prints.”
“Fingerprints, you say?” Chance was frowning. “I have never heard of them being used to identify a criminal before.”
“It is a relatively new science,” Hudson explained. “Given time, I do believe it will become one of the best means of solving crimes. We would be more than happy to provide the evidence Leydon has gathered concerning Mrs. Ainsley’s murder. You will be free to study it and draw your own conclusions.”
Elysande leaned into her husband’s strength, allowing her mind to drift as Hudson finished his conversation with Sergeant Chance. The shock was beginning to recede, making her gradually more aware of what they had just endured. How close they had come to death.
She swayed on her feet, and both Hudson’s arms wrapped around her, keeping her from falling to the floor. “You are overwrought, my love,” he murmured in her ear.
She nodded, feeling numb and drained. “Yes.”
“Thank you for your time, Your Grace,” Chance said, offering her an awkward bow. “I should not keep you here a moment longer. I do believe we have all the information we require.”
“We are indebted to you, Chance,” Hudson said.
The next few minutes passed in a flurry of activity for Elysande. The servants had packed some of her belongings into an overnight case. Hudson bundled her into a carriage, and soon, they were swaying over the midnight roads through London, on their way to a hotel Hudson had arranged for them.
The Detective Duke (Unexpected Lords Book 1) Page 25