Melissa threw the last contents of the brandy glass into her throat, the liquid burning her tongue. It wasn’t long after that Eliza’s coldness turned into an Arctic freeze. She started to go out more, staying in London for long periods leaving the bewildered and grief-stricken Melissa alone in the house in Buckinghamshire. Her only consolation was found in her father’s books and plants. She read, she dissected, she studied, until she knew the texts by heart, and her knowledge was almost as good as her father’s. She tended the plants outside, the strange orchids and exotic ferns. She even developed a particular interest in healing plants. But then her mother came back and announced that they were going to move. That they were going to buy a smaller, more manageable place in London, away from the disgusting plants that reminded her of her dear Arthur. And by the way dear Melissa, Professor Lisle had kindly agreed to buy the house for a generous sum of money.
That was the start of the moves, each time to a house that was progressively smaller, and in a less and less salubrious area of London, until they ended up in Bayswater—
A footman entered softly as Melissa groaned. He stood regarding her curiously for a second before placing a large piece of sumptuous cake by her chair. Melissa blinked at him and narrowed her eyes. There was something familiar about him… he had a nasty scar on his cheek too, but then the flicker of recognition disappeared. She eyed the brandy glass. It must have been the effects of the alcohol. She turned back to speak to the footman, but caught only the sight of his back as he tiptoed out through the door. He did seem very considerate.
The slice of cake was large, and smelled of almonds. She didn’t really feel that hungry. Swiping the tantallus off the oval table, Melissa poured herself another drop of brandy.
Now what had she been trying to get at on the top shelf of the library? It seemed important, but only to her. Perhaps if she looked again…
Melissa awoke to the feel of warm breath on her brow and warmth on her left hand side. Every now and then her body jolted up and down. She tilted her nose upwards to see the underside of a strong chin and aquiline nose.
“Mmm, Hades,” she said, recognizing the earl. His warmth was irresistible. Twisting slightly, she burrowed into his chest, becoming aware that he also held her under her knees. Realizing that her right arm was hanging downwards, she pulled it up and rested it on his chest. She traced the outline of the buttons than ran down his waistcoat. Each one was inscribed with a roaring lion.
“Just like a lion, warm and strong,” she murmured. “I suppose you must be if you live in the underworld.”
She felt a rumble of laughter in Hades’ chest. It cleared some of the warmth in her head.
“But also cold and savage like all other men,” she muttered wanly. Hades bent his head to look at her but she didn’t want to meet his gaze. She dropped her hand to her waist and turned her face into his chest. It was easier to dream that way.
CHAPTER 9
Hades pulled the knocker down on the front door of the house in Mount Street. He didn’t really want to return, but he had no other place to go. The door opened softly.
“Hello, Carruthers,” he said, pulling his hat from his head. “Is Lady Colchester in?”
“I’ll see if she is taking visitors, sir.” The butler shut the door firmly on his nose.
Hades blinked. He really was persona non grata. Well, that didn’t matter. He needed his antidote, and fast. He tapped his boots on the top step impatiently, and unpeeling a glove from his hand, ran a finger over his lips.
The sweetness of her kiss and the feeling of her warm—
“You may come in.”
Hades jumped. Gods, it was getting worse. He hadn’t noticed the door reopening so quickly. He pushed past the butler and, in one quick movement, tossed his gloves and cane onto the hall table. With a disgusted glance at the large portrait of Victoria and her deceased husband that hung on the wall above the hall table, he strode into the front room.
“Wait,” cried the butler.
Hades closed the door on his face, happy to return the compliment.
Victoria stood reading a letter at the window. Hades took a moment to admire her beautiful blonde hair and the expanse of creamy skin that stretched from shoulder to shoulder. She turned in surprise, her blue eyes meeting his.
“Earl Harding, what a surprise…” But she had no time to finish her sentence. He stalked across the front room and gathered her up in his arms. With grim determination, he pulled Victoria towards him and kissed her thoroughly.
After a minute he stopped.
Absolutely nothing. There was absolutely nothing. Just like all the other women since Lady Elsa. All that is, for the shrew that was currently taking over his house. He shut his mind quickly. By God—
He sank into one of the ridiculous small chairs that Victoria used to torture her guests with and humphed.
Victoria remained by the window, the paper that she had been reading now crumpled in her hand. Objectively, she looked as beautiful as ever. Hades humphed again and turned his head to the fireplace.
Victoria placed her crumpled paper on the small table below the window and delicately sat in the chair opposite Hades.
“What is the matter, Hades?” she asked softly. She made no reference to the kiss.
Hades swallowed. If he had expected to her to be outraged by the liberty that he had just taken, he should have thought again—he had only recently become aware that Victoria was far more perceptive than the silly persona that she projected. It was what had piqued his interest again until… he stopped himself. He hadn’t factored that in to his grand plan when he had made up his mind to kiss her. He had hoped that he could give a curt goodbye and walk out. Like he had many times before.
“We are not the same people we were three years ago, Hades,” Victoria said gently into Hades’ continued silence. “You and I both know that.”
“Elsa…” Hades voice hitched. He didn’t quite know how to put it into words.
“Elsa’s in America. I haven’t heard from her in years.” Victoria put a hand to her face. “She’s not dead, is she? I know how much she meant to you.”
Hades looked up sharply.
“Come on, Hades, don’t be a pea brain. Of course I knew. We were both hurting. I from the mistake I made with Colchester, and you from believing yourself in love with Elsa.”
“I did love Elsa,” Hades protested.
“Pah! Moon-calf love. She knew that, I knew that. Even your mother knew that.”
“My mother!”
Victoria pursed her lips. “So she’s not dead, then?” she said hurriedly.
“I’ve no idea.”
Victoria got to her feet. She started to pace up and down. Hades stayed quiet. He’d seen her like this before during the Monsieur Herr affair. He wasn’t going to like what was coming next.
He was right.
After a studied silence, a wide smile spread across Victoria’s face. Her feet danced across the carpet with glee. Opening the door to the front room, she shouted to her butler. “Carruthers, Carruthers! Bring some champagne.” She turned to Hades and laughed. “It’s someone else, isn’t it? Someone else has broken through your armor and got to you.”
Hades leaned back in the chair and folded his arms. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”
Victoria stopped dancing for a few seconds, but couldn’t seem to help herself. She jigged lightly across the carpet. “You kissed me without so much as a by your leave. You were going to walk out the door again like so many times before, the controlled, emotionless earl. And then you realized you felt nothing, and it hit you like a barrowful of bricks!”
“No, I’m still not with you.” Hades squirmed, his long legs uncomfortably tangled.
“I have news for you, Hades. I felt nothing at all either!”
Hades sat up, his pride piqued. Women enjoyed his intimate company surely—good god, they were constantly trying to entrap him.
“Who is she?” Victoria plante
d herself in front of him. “Don’t let me make Ponzi bite your ankles.”
Unwillingly Hades smiled. The last time Victoria had asked her dog to do that, the earl had ended up the owner of said dog who was even now making fast friends with Melissa.
Melissa. Even just the small kiss on the cheek that she had tentatively given him had made him shiver. By God when he kissed her it was as if the light in the study had blazed into life. His chest had expanded and he had wanted to fall into her rosy mouth.
“Goodness. I would like to meet the woman that has made you lose some of your famed control. Earl Hades Harding, blushing in my front room!”
That was enough. The woman had not made him lose his control. Let alone his sangfroid. And he was growing redder merely because he was hot.
Hades stood. “I must go. My apologies for inconveniencing you.”
Victoria stared at him, her eyebrows raised. “But what about my champagne?”
“I do not drink to my own defeat, my lady.” Hades walked stiffly to the door. He waited for Carruthers to enter with the champagne and put a foot forward to cross the threshold into the hall.
“Hades.”
He stopped. Victoria’s voice was soft and serious. He turned, but did not look at her.
“Hades, you were young when you fell in love with Elsa. She was three years older than you. You were like a convenient crutch for her. Someone that she could lean on until something better, older, more mature came along.”
“If she had known I was going to become the earl she wouldn’t have left…”
“No, she wouldn’t. And that would have shown you the type of person that she was. You have so many ladies running after you because you are the earl, because of your good looks, because of the legend that you have become. But who wants you just for who you are? Who knows your secrets and can share in your triumphs?”
Hades paused and thought briefly. He was not going to be defeated by either that woman or the Viper. Finally he spoke. “Carter, my butler. And perhaps my mother.” With a grim laugh, he completed his step into the hall and, with one swoop of his hand, collected his gloves and his cane.
The ride home cleared his head. It only took twenty minutes, but the regret for his actions started as soon as he left Mount Street. Victoria had her own crosses to bear.
Leaving his horse in the stables, he untied the heavy double saddlebag of books and walked back around to the normally shuttered front entrance of the house. But instead of the usual calm that beset the Mayfair street, the front door of the house stood wide open, footmen scurrying in and out of the hall and a man with a large black bag and several silver instruments kneeled in the hallway.
It was clear from the man’s stance that he was a doctor.
Hades ran up the steps to the door, and with a sharp intake of breath dropped the saddlebags in the hallway as a pair of shoes appeared on the floor behind the doctor. Shaking his head, he took a step closer, ashamed relief coursing through him as the prone form of the kitchen boy appeared lying behind the doctor. The boy’s mouth was stretched open in a cry of terror, and yet he lay unmoving and his body rigid, his arms half in the air.
The doctor finished feeling at the boy’s wrist and stood. “There’s nothing I can do for him.” He ignored Hades and spoke to Carter who was wringing his hands at the bottom of the stairs. “He’s quite dead.”
Bloody hell. Hades took a deep breath and stepped inside the hall. “What did he die from?”
“I’m not sure,” the doctor said. “It is unlike anything I have ever witnessed.” He sniffed and frowned at Hades. “May I ask who you are, sir?”
“It’s not poison.” Melissa stood imperiously at the top of the stairs. “And he’s the earl who owns this house.”
Hades tapped his cane on the ground. Damn the woman. How come she always managed to, in military parlance, gain the upper ground? He should be introducing himself. And how did she know it wasn’t poison?
“I beg your pardon my lady, but how do you know?”
“Miss Sumner, please. I know about plants. There are no plants that would create a poison that would exhibit the same paralysis of limbs, and then gentle asphyxiation.”
“I’m not sure the young miss knows what she is talking about.” The drop in deference in the doctor’s tone was audible. He pushed away his black bag and stood up. “She is neither a doctor nor a nurse. I will record a death of misadventure and heart attack. That is the only thing that explains the death. My carriage will take the body to the morgue.”
Hades glared at the doctor. “The young miss is a guest in my home and rather special to me.” Hades opened the front door as the doctor scuttled through it. Hefting the saddle bags onto his shoulder and without looking at Melissa, he stepped into his study to allow the undertakers to enter the crowded hall and pull the kitchen boy out.
He dropped the saddle bags onto his desk and opened up the right hand pouch, his hand deftly pulling the leather strap that held it closed back through the buckle. There was only one parcel in there. He hesitated, before kicking open the bottom desk drawer and sliding the parcel in, ripping the paper on the sharp undersides of the drawer dividers. He’d have to give the books to Melissa later.
Devil take it! Melissa! With an oath, he caught up the still partially full saddle bag and swung back into the hall, throwing the heavy bag on the hall table. He was just in time to stride forward and pluck Melissa from her crouched position behind the undertakers, and halfway out of the front door.
“You are not going anywhere, my lovely dangerous Diana. You will not leave this house until I say so!”
“My name is not Diana,” Melissa protested as Hades pulled her into the study and pushed her into the leather chair. “But I am more like Persephone at the moment,” she muttered under her breath.
“Just stay quiet and seated in that seat. Carter, Carter!”
The butler opened the study door a crack and peered in. Hades pointed at the library chair. “Bring me the cooks. I want to see them in my study now. And yourself of course.”
Carter nodded and silently closed the door.
Hades took a deep breath and glanced at Melissa before staring at the ceiling. Focus on the kitchen boy. Not her eyes. “Now then. Tell me about why you are so sure that it wasn’t poisoning.”
Melissa sighed. “I’ve already told you. No plants will produce the same symptoms as the ones that poor boy experienced. I heard it all from upstairs and came down as soon as I could, but I was too late. Carter sent me back up again so that he could call a doctor.” She stopped and sniffed. “There was nothing I could do to help him.”
Silently Hades handed her his handkerchief. Carter entered the study, followed closely by the cooks. Chefs, Hades amended silently in his head. One of them was supposedly French and was responsible for the rise in biscuit consumption in the household. They were both more intent on staring at Melissa than they were in meeting his gaze.
“Ahem,” he coughed. They jumped and looked for somewhere to sit. Hades did not offer them a chair.
“Carlos, Charles.”
“Yes, sir!” they chorused. Carter rolled his eyes and Hades could see Melissa smothering a weak smile.
“What was the kitchen boy doing before he died?”
“Nothing different, sir. He had just finished rolling out the pastry for tonight’s pudding and stacked the ovens with wood.”
“We were laughing at him because he managed to get a splinter in his mouth which he had to pull out with tweezers,” Charles continued.
Hades glanced quickly at Melissa. She shook her head.
“Is there anything else?”
“Nothing else. Err… we all ate a piece of the cake that Miss Sumner rejected. It was that new footman’s idea to make it. We were very disappointed that she didn’t eat it.”
Melissa winced. “I’m terribly—”
“New footman? I didn’t authorize a new footman.” Hades frowned; usually he knew all the comings and goings of
the house.
“I didn’t want to bother you, sir. Isaac, the under-footman is off sick. He sent the new man to replace him. He seemed to know what he was doing.” Carter grimaced.
“Perhaps we ought to interview him.” Why hadn’t Carter brought the man in with the chefs?
Carter rolled his lips and chewed at his tongue.
“That would be a problem, sir,” Carlos said smugly. “He hasn’t been seen for the last day.”
“Hmm, strange chap. Always walking around on his tiptoes. It was as if his heels couldn’t touch the floor.” Charles stopped and stared at Melissa’s gasp. “He was great help in re-hanging the hall chandelier after cleaning though. I’ve never seen anyone hang upside down before with such…”
“Yes, yes, thank you both. Carter, please could you bring us the rest of this wonderful cake that Melissa rejected. I would be very pleased to try it.” Hades glanced at Melissa who stared back unblinking.
It was the cooks’ turn to shuffle their feet. “I’m afraid we ate it all, my lord. We do have some biscuits though.”
A determined woof from under the green chair settled the matter. “Biscuits it is then please,” Hades said tiredly. He clicked his fingers and was rewarded by a warm Arturo lick. Even Arturo knew that his master’s chair had moved.
He waved away the cooks and turned to the fire. Perhaps it was just a coincidence that the kitchen boy had died, and the under-footman was gone. It happened all the time in big households such as theirs, his.
Although, there was the old adage about poking a nest full of vipers. He stopped, watching Melissa’s unmoving form in the chair next to him. She had picked up a book and started to read. He had wanted to believe so very hard that he had the Viper. But it wasn’t true. He ran a hand tiredly over his face. Invading his house and now his mind. The Viper was meant to have been at the cross in St. Giles for a reason, and that reason was he was meeting someone. Melissa.
Hades turned and narrowed his eyes at her. She regarded him innocently over the top of the book from behind her silver framed glasses. What did the Viper want with Melissa?
Dangerous Diana (Brambridge Novel 3) Page 6