Dangerous Diana (Brambridge Novel 3)

by Pearl Darling

  “I will come with you.” Freddie wiped his face on a large napkin. “Thank you.”

  Hades nodded. It didn’t make much difference to him one way or another. “My coach is at the Crown Inn. We’ll have to walk there. Can you manage?”

  Freddie nodded. “I have my stick. I’ll cope.” With a set face, he set his upheld leg on the floor and pulled himself to his feet.

  “Have you had the leg looked at?” Hades started towards the bar. There were many reasons why people drank, physical pain often being one of them.

  “Many times.” Freddie pulled his cane from the seat behind him and set it on the floor. With a few slow steps, he was soon at the door of the inn and onto the pavement.

  “How much?” Hades asked the barmaid.

  The barmaid looked him up and down with a lascivious glint in her eye, “Five shillings, sir,” she said sweetly, flashing her teeth.

  Hades drew the money out of his pocket, frowning. It would only cover one meal. “Are you sure that is enough?”

  “Oh, the other cove paid beforehand.” The barmaid shrugged her shoulders, her dress slipping downwards exposing a white shoulder. “He said he wanted to limit himself.”

  Hades nodded and backed away from the bar. Swiveling quickly on one heel, he strode to join Freddie on the pavement.

  “I thought she was going to eat you up,” Freddie remarked dryly. “How do you do it?”

  Hades grunted. He didn’t know himself. But it didn’t help him now. Thrusting his hands into his coat pockets, he jerked his head in the direction of his coach. He shouldn’t have sent Melissa a note. He should have gone to see her himself, taken her away…

  The Crown Inn was only a short walk up the street, but still it was slow going. Impatiently, Hades matched his stride to Freddie’s limp. He could hear Freddie’s labored breathing hitching each time his injured leg hit the floor. At a nod from Hades, his coach man and tiger hoisted Freddie into the coach without a word. They were not surprised to see that Hades had an extra guest with him. His war work had meant meeting many unsavory characters at any time of day.

  “Much obliged,” Freddie muttered as Hades leapt into the coach. He lay back against the coach seat and closed his eyes again. “Of course my butler, valet, whatever Willson would have done the same if he was here… but he’s not.”

  “Thank God.”

  “I’ll have you know he’s very knowledgeable on Meissen pottery.”

  Hades banged on the top of the coach with a laugh. Willson was an ex-soldier and knew how to dispatch a man with the unlikeliest of instruments. He was also said to be the keeper of Freddie’s secrets.

  Freddie opened his eyes and squirmed slightly and then poked around at the cushions on the sprung seats behind him. Wordlessly he pulled out the saddlebags that Hades had tossed in at the last moment. “A little light reading, old boy? Thought you’d left all that at home.”

  Hades feigned a laugh and tossed the bags underneath the seats, wincing as the books clunked to the floor. He sat back and folded his arms as the coach started moving; the coachman had already collected directions to Berale House where Henry had his country residence. Henry was well known in the area, as a fair land owner and the long suffering neighbor of the Stanton lands that ran alongside his that were now owned by Bill Standish, the illegitimate son of the old Lord Stanton, and another spy in Henry’s ring. They too all ultimately took their orders from Lord Granwich.

  The carriage started out at a fair trot, leaving Honiton behind and quickly entering the rolling hills that would give slowly onto the sea. The lanes were deep and narrow, and in some cases high hedges and steep sides gave an almost claustrophobic effect to the travelling.

  Inside the carriage, Hades chatted desultorily with Freddie about some of the campaigns he had seen on the Peninsular, avoiding the subject of Burgos. They were particular engrossed in discussing the battle of Corunna when the carriage came to a sharp stop.

  Immediately the shouting started, a wild drumming echoing through the carriage from where the coachman sat. Standing cautiously to his feet, Hades pushed open the door with a quick thrust and froze. The dark hole from the barrel of a gun pointed solidly at his ribs.

  “Your valuables, if you please.” The masked man at the other end of his gun bent in his saddle across the top of a powerful white horse and let the rim of the gun nudge Hades just above his heart.

  Hades stiffened. “I have a little coin which you can have?”

  The highwayman spat on the floor. “You fancy nobs never carry just coin. Jeffries, take the basket off your horse and look inside the coach. You, get out of the coach.”

  A man on a short pony stepped up to the highwayman and got down from his saddle as Hades stepped cautiously to the muddy roadside. Jeffries too was masked, with a bald head, and an evil grin. He slipped a wicker basket from his saddle and took it to the entrance to the coach.

  “What am I looking for?” The bald man looked back at the highwayman.

  “Everything,” the masked man said impatiently. “Rings, caskets, luggage, books, bring it all out.” He pushed Hades to the side with the tip of his gun still pointed at him and motioned for Jeffries to go forward with a haughty wave of his wrist.

  Hades stared at the highwayman from the side. Almost all of his face was covered apart from his ears. There was nothing special about them apart from the fact that abundant short curly hair sprouted from their inner depths. Hades shivered. He never normally considered his own ears. He would need to get them seen to when he was back in London.

  Jeffries entered the coach with a small jump as a hand reached out to close the door. Hades waited as a silence followed, broken by a short and piercing scream.

  As the highwayman looked back towards the coach, Hades jumped and grabbed the barrel of the man’s gun and wrenched it from his grasp. With a gasp, the man dug his feet into the sides of his powerful horse, wheeling it in a tight circle and pointing it straight up the steep banks of the lane and through a parting in the hedge.

  Hades attempted to scramble after him, but his legs were not as powerful as the horse’s long hind legs which easily scrabbled up the loose earth. By the time he had reached the top, the horse and his rider were long gone. It was hard to even tell which direction the pair had taken.

  Gasping for breath, he stumbled back to the coach. The coachman groaned where he had been tied roughly in place. The tiger appeared from his hiding place under the coach and cautiously walked round to see to the horses. Hades nodded grimly. It was what he had taught them to do.

  As he pushed his head into the dark carriage, the whites of Freddie’s teeth grinned at him from the corner.

  “Jeffries?” he asked with a raise of one eyebrow.

  “On the floor,” Freddie said with a laugh. “He was going for that bag you tossed under the seat. He wasn’t expecting such a… sharp end.” Freddie brandished his walking stick, which revealed a sharp and deadly sword point that was normally disguised on the inside of the cane.

  Hades rolled his eyes and backed out of the coach again. Trust a military man to have such a gallows form of humor.

  “’Tis strange, your Lordship,” the coachman said, peering over the side as he pulled off the ropes from his hands. “I had no reports of highwaymen operating in the area. Nobody mentioned it to me when I was asking directions to Berale House.”

  Hades stretched his arms. Highwaymen were notoriously difficult for travelers on country lanes, but usually they haunted a certain area, and became well known in local inns. Of course, highwaymen had to start somewhere, and perhaps this one was better than most at disguising his activities. His accomplice, however, had not been so lucky.

  “What shall we do with the body?” the coachman asked curiously as he peered in at the coach window.

  “We’ll leave it in the coach and take it along with us to Berale House. We’ll see if they can identify Jeffries. Lord Lassiter and I will sit on the top with you till we get there.”

 
It was quite pleasant to sit in the open air as the well-sprung coach travelled onwards to the coast. After another mile, the sea was visible below a long line of cliffs. Two magnificent houses glowed in the sunlight.

  Freddie pointed out Berale House. “It’s that one we’re going for. The other is Brambridge Manor—Standish’s new place. I’ve heard he’s hardly done anything to it since he was given the damn thing.”

  They were greeted warmly at Berale House by Smythe, Henry’s butler. It wasn’t long before Henry himself, his still new bride, Agatha, and Victoria swept out to meet them.

  “Sorry we were a little delayed.” Hades spoke directly to Henry; he couldn’t bring himself to meet either Victoria or Agatha in the eye. “We were accosted en route by a highwayman.”

  Henry frowned in surprise. “A highwayman? But there are none operating around here at the moment.”

  “We’ve brought back his accomplice. Thank you.” Freddie leaned heavily on Smythe’s shoulder as he swung down from his perch on the front of the coach. He breathed deeply and held on to the side of the carriage for support as Hades threw open the door of the coach.

  Taking hold of the body by the boots, Hades pulled out the corpse and let it fall with a thud to the floor.

  It was the ladies who stepped forward first.

  “He’s not from around here,” Agatha said confidently. “I have not seen him before. And his hands are smooth, and his clothes are too fine.”

  “Could it be he’s a London highwayman down on his luck?” Hades averted his eyes from Victoria’s curious glances.

  “Not possible,” replied Agatha confidently. “The pickings are too slim around here. People are too poor, and the only big houses in this area are Berale House and Brambridge Manor, both of which are empty for most of the year.”

  “I agree with my wife.” Henry lifted his chin. “I believe every word that she says.” He looked challengingly at Hades.

  Agatha rolled her eyes. “Please you two, if you are going to start punching each other again, then wait until we are inside.”

  Hades winced and rubbed his jaw.

  “I could do with a drink,” Freddie muttered. Henry looked at him sharply. “Of water,” he said hastily. “Hades’ horses gallop so damn hard my mouth is dry.”

  “Some of the guests have already arrived.” Agatha led the party inside with a swish of her skirt. “I believe you will have met most of them.”

  “Earl Harding may not have met Miss Sumner,” Victoria broke in. Hades halted, one foot in mid-air. Miss Sumner, surely not…

  “Oh, well then we will have to make introductions,” Agatha said. “I believe Melissa is out for a walk on the cliff top at the moment, but she will be back for tea. Earl Harding, where are you going?”

  Hades had already walked back down the steps and off across the lawn. “A walk on the cliff tops sounds like a very good idea after the stuffy confines of the coach,” he called back.

  “But we spent the last hour on the top of the coach and the cliffs are in the opposite direction.” Freddie shaded his eyes with his hand and waggled his eyebrows.

  Hades turned briefly and glared at him. “I will see you all at tea. Smythe can show my coachman where my room is. He’ll put the luggage in there.” Without a backward look, Hades changed direction and strode down the drive and onto the road.

  He missed the look of surprise on Victoria’s face, and small smile that took its place. “So that’s the way the wind blows is it, Hades? Oh my,” she said.

  CHAPTER 20

  Melissa pulled on her gloves and crouched down into the long grass. The plant grew just where she remembered it from her previous ill-fated visit to Brambridge. Lord Stanton had been tricked by Eliza into taking Melissa for a picnic along the cliffs, but as Melissa’s maid had disappeared leaving them alone together she had not noticed, too busy marveling at all the different plants that sprung up along the cliff path.

  In fact, the entire picnic had given her a marvelous headache. Not just from the forced situation with the increasingly angry Lord Stanton, but from having to narrow her eyes to look at all the plants, her broken glasses still somewhere amongst Edgar’s belongings. But still, it was worth it; some of the flowers she had only ever seen in her father’s books, purple gromwell and sea lavender and even kidney vetch.

  But most of all there had been the unappetizing plant that now stood in front of her again. Its flower was formed in a tubular shape and the petals were smudged and speckled with purple. It was July now; the flower would only last until the end of August after which the plant would grow a berry.

  She grimaced and drew back. Just touching the plant with her bare hands would poison her. The plant was henbane, a member of the deadly nightshade family, along with other plants such as thornapple and bittersweet. The berry that it would grow would be even more poisonous than the plant itself.

  Melissa wrinkled her nose. It was also the most unpleasant smelling plant that she had ever come across. Checking to make sure that her gloves were pulled right up and beyond her elbow, she picked up her garden knife which she had left on the ground and grasped the henbane plant firmly by its stem. With one quick movement of the knife she severed the plant from its roots.

  Using both hands, she twisted the plant in half, and then in half again, dancing away as the petals threatened to brush against her skin. She had brought a small satchel with her, which she had already left open. Stuffing the henbane into the satchel, she laid a handkerchief on top and quickly laced the satchel closed.

  It was a shame but her gloves would have to be burnt. Henbane juices ran along the leather. She would turn them inside out, and then she could perhaps use them again for removing the henbane from the sack.

  A sickness roiled in her stomach. Normally she collected plants for doing good. Lavender, marjoram, ragwort. But the henbane was a poison. It did no good whatsoever, especially for what she intended to use it for.

  The plan had come to Melissa as she spent the hours on the post coach to Honiton. She would trick the Viper into thinking that she had the book. She would allow him to capture her, and then she would poison him, doing exactly what the ‘Society of Apothecaries’ men had accused her of. And of course just what she had done to the coal merchant, although she had merely put him to sleep with a poppy laced drink. She pushed at the satchel with a sharp hand. Up until now she had been as meek as mouse, showing no grit and no bite. The Viper would not see it coming.

  Hades did not realize it, but he had done her a service by leaving her alone with all of his books. She herself had learned a little bit about strategy. And a lot about poisoning. It seemed to be the favorite art in that small pamphlet of his that he had left out about China. After all, that’s where she had got the idea.

  She paused before stripping the gloves off. It had been hard to think of a plan as Hades had invaded her thoughts in every way on the jolting journey. Just the words plan and strategy reminded her of him. But he had made his own bed. He had clearly indicated that he wasn’t going to help her deal with the Viper. She would just have to do it herself.

  Slowly she worked the thumb of the glove on the left hand off, and began with the other fingers.

  “Melissa, Miss Sumner, what are you doing here?”

  Melissa looked up open-mouthed and blinked. Hades. She blinked again and touched her face to her shoulder. Yes, she had her glasses on so she knew her vision was good. Hades stood in front of her, a weary look on his face, and a frown crossing his brow. She stopped pulling at her gloves and rocked back on her heels.

  “Hades.” Putting a trembling foot beneath herself she rose and took a step back towards her satchel behind her.

  “Did you get my note? Is that why you are here? Did you follow me?”

  Melissa opened her mouth to reply but had no chance to give voice.

  Hades lowered his voice and took a step forward. “You were meant to be anywhere but near me.”

  “You didn’t give me that impression last t
ime we met,” Melissa murmured. She took another step towards her bag, but Hades advanced quickly, his hands outstretched.

  “You don’t understand, it’s too dangerous here,” he said. He jerked his arm behind his back with a huff.

  Melissa looked at the remains of the plant on the floor. How did Hades know what she was up to? Or was he talking about their tempestuous relationship? “Err, really?” she hedged.

  “I explained it all in my note.”

  “Your note?” Melissa shook her head. “I didn’t get any note from you.” She looked up at Hades slowly and took a sharp breath in, “Unless your note was the Apothecaries Bill I was handed by two men that proceeded to ransack my home, and who threatened to arrest me?”

  Hades took a step forwards towards her. “Apothecaries Bill?” He frowned. “That was only brought in a month ago. They had no right to arrest you. I had nothing to do with that.” He put his hands out again. “You have to believe me.”

  “Why should I believe you?” She stumbled backwards “No! Don’t come any closer. I, I don’t want you near me.” She couldn’t explain that what she had on her hands could kill him.

  “But you must, I explained it all in my note…”

  “I don’t want to hear any more.” Melissa cut him off in full flow. He was coming dangerously close to her and already her senses were beginning to melt. She would lose her head next and launch herself into his arms which would probably kill him until she had these gloves off. She sniffed and feigned indifference, picking up her satchel and turning her back. “I don’t care about you, and the silly games that you want to play. Until you include me in what you are up to, I don’t want be near you… and don’t touch me!”

  Melissa arched backwards. Hades’ brown hair blew round his shoulders in the wind and he loomed above her like the Greek god after which he was named.

  She turned and with quick steps walked as fast as possible away from Hades. She couldn’t hear any thuds in the ground as he followed her, but she knew that he was fleet of step. When she was fifty yards away, she risked a look round.