“No, I’m not sure you can,” Melissa murmured. “This is one instance, Carter, where no one can help me, but myself.”
Carter gave her a longer, harder look and proceeded to haul away the bags that Hades had left strewn across the hall.
Melissa needed time to think. She had been caught off guard by Hades. She didn’t quite know what she had wanted to say to him when she had laid her hand on his arm. She might have spilled it all out with a bald “I love you.” She cursed Lady Harding for putting the words into her head. But somehow, they filled her mind.
But would he have received it from her? This was the man who received love letters a plenty from all and sundry. A man whose heart had been broken and to hear it tell, would never be ready for another woman again.
What did she have that she could offer him? She had no family, no money, definitely no breeding, and to square it all off, she was being harassed by the Viper. Not to mention the fact that she had run away from Hades in Brambridge. Although, she acknowledged, running to his home did seem to rather cancel things out.
Never mind that he had now run away from her.
How could she make him see that all he needed was her, spectacles and all? Melissa looked into the study. She couldn’t think in there. The memory of their kiss was too strong in there. It would befuddle her mind.
The front room was off the cards because she had changed the curtains. It was silly, but she had done that in defiance. Not that he had said one word about it in the twenty minutes he had spent in his home, even though he must have seen the change from outside.
And then there was the dining room. The scene of their last encounter.
Her bedroom it was.
“I noticed you were hunting for some new books to read, miss?” Carter said as he came back into the hall to take away the final trunk. “His lordship brought some new ones in with him and left them on the table. I’m sure he won’t mind you looking through them.” Carter prodded at the sack on the hall table. “It doesn’t look too heavy…”
“It’s alright Carter, I’ll take them up to my room myself.”
“But won’t you sit in the study?”
“Not today. Please could you give an instruction that I’m not to be disturbed.”
“Of course. Would you care for us to bring you up a tray of food for dinner?”
Melissa nodded. She was sorry that she couldn’t do justice to Carlos and Charles’ new lease of cooking life, but she just wished to be shut away to lick her wounds in private.
She grabbed the saddlebag and bumped the books up the stairs. Her feet plodded up the steps like lead. She dropped the sack just inside her bedroom door and sat with a thump on the bed. Swinging her legs onto the counterpane, she lay back.
All of Melissa’s formative years had been dominated by her so-called mother. A mother who had eradicated most of her father’s influence from her life, but who had been unable to stop Melissa following in her father’s first love of plants.
And then along had come Edgar, and he and her mother had attempted to maneuver Melissa into marrying for their own gain.
At no point had she been supported, listened to, laughed with, or wanted for her sake.
But neither had she by Hades. He had concealed from her, used her for his own ends just like Edgar. But when she looked into his eyes… she knew he wanted her. She had seen the man in flames before he had quickly doused the fires with remarkable self-control. He had said that he wanted to protect her, and that those were the reasons for using her. And he had certainly listened to her.
Melissa choked back hysterical laughter that bubbled up through her body. The look on his face when on the very first day in his house she had refused to give up his large leather chair. She had been so incensed that he had had her blindfolded, banged in the head and left perched on the torturous library chair for two hours before he would let her go.
And yet he had not replaced the arrangement of the two chairs, nor moved her books where she left them. Her eyes wandered as she gazed around the room. How was she going to be able to tell this man that she believed she loved him?
She found herself gazing at the dressing table mirror and made a moue of disgust. Even this room wasn’t safe to think in. She could almost feel the hot touch of Hades’ fingers on her spine as he did up that infernal buttoned dress.
She had not got any further and she was still thinking about Hades in a most unhealthy manner. Melissa swung her legs back over the side of the bed and tottered over to the leather saddlebag.
As dusk pulled in, Melissa lit a candle and pulled the saddlebag onto the dressing room table. She pulled the leather straps of the bag nimbly through their clasps and pulled out the first parcel of books. Tugging tiredly at the string, she unwrapped the parcel, and lifted her candle to look at the top cover of the first book. She froze in disbelief and put the candle down again, casting the table into shade.
Melissa stood and marched from side to side in the room. A knock at the door and a shout of “Dinner!” came through the keyhole. But it barely stopped her. She had completed five relays before she gained enough courage to go back to the dressing table and sit down. She pulled the small vial of henbane out of her bodice and rolled it round in her fingers.
If she opened one of these books then she might find out who had been stalking her. But if she did open the book and find out, what would she do? She gazed at the bottle of henbane. All she had thought about until now was how to poison the Viper. But she knew now, now that she was coming so close to revealing his identity, that it was useless. She was a life giver, not someone who wanted to take it away. She had only ever wanted to help with her apothecary work, even if sometimes the patients had been ungrateful and complaining.
She pushed the small glass bottle onto the table and up against the mirror. She had been stupid to carry it so close to her body. What if the vial had cracked? She would have been done for. Although in the past death had seemed like a welcome alternative, now, strangely she passionately wanted to live.
The title of the first book in the parcel she had pulled from the saddle bag was ‘Birds of the Pyrenees” edited by Mr. L Trump. It was the sister book to those edited and created by her father downstairs. It was one of the books that she had used to weigh down her old flower press. How on earth had Hades got hold of them and why? Why on earth had he taken them all the way down to Brambridge with him?
With trembling hands, she forced open the spine and started to read. She read for an hour. Another two.
The candle started to sputter as she held it close to the end of the book. There was nothing there. She now knew more about the birds in the mountains than she had ever wanted to know, their Latin names, their bird calls, their plumage. And there had been not a trace of a diary.
Belatedly she remembered the dinner outside of her room. With a heavy heart she trudged to her bedroom door and opened it. The tray sat in front of the door, a monogrammed tureen upturned over the plate to keep it warm. She almost laughed. That had Mr. Hobbs’ hand all over it. She pulled the tureen off and gazed at the congealed gravy that had covered a nicely roasted pigeon breast with a potato dauphinoise. Melissa sniffed. There hadn’t been one good thing that had happened to her that day. In fact she would almost have welcomed another visit by Hades’ mother at that point.
“Can we get you something else, love?”
Melissa hadn’t noticed Mrs. Hobbs sitting a way down the hall, knitting quietly, Arturo’s small body lying at her feet. The spaniel got to his paws and wagged his tail as Melissa looked up. The sound of Mrs. Hobbs’ needles paused.
“Carter said that you looked a little peaky when the earl left.”
Melissa grabbed at her throat. “I think perhaps I haven’t been feeling very well.” She coughed unconvincingly. Arturo yipped and padded towards her.
Mrs. Hobbs made a ‘pshaw’ noise at the back of her throat and went back to clacking her needles. “You know I was just the same when I met Albert, Mr. H
obbs,” she said unexpectedly, stopping the needles and peering over towards Melissa. “I couldn’t work out if I wanted to throttle him or kiss him. And he never did what I wanted him to do.”
“Sounds like all the men I have ever known,” Melissa said defeatedly, patting Arturo as he leaned against her skirts.
“Ah, but you haven’t loved all those men like you love this one.”
“Pardon?” There were two more books in Melissa’s room that she needed to examine and Mrs. Hobbs wanted to talk about love? “Mrs. Hobbs, I would really appreciate some more dinner…”
But Mrs. Hobbs was acting as if she wasn’t listening. “And you must remember that you can’t force them to realize that they love you in return. It’s got to happen organeckly.”
“I think you mean organically.”
“That’s what I said. You can’t just go up to them and say ‘I love you’ and expect them to fall over and declare their undying love for you.”
Despite herself, Melissa was intrigued. “You can’t? But how do they know if they can say that to you?” Hurriedly she started stroking Arturo again as he butted his head against her leg.
“You have to give them little signs, and then wait for them to come to their senses.”
Melissa frowned. “Signs, what kind of signs exactly?”
“Act like you are available like. Be receptive to their ideas, perhaps even to some of their advances.” Mrs. Hobbs flushed. Melissa counted herself lucky that Mrs. Hobbs wasn’t telling her everything.
Unfortunately Melissa hadn’t acted as if she was very available at all. She hadn’t been receptive to Hades’ ideas and the last time he had advanced on her, she had run away. Albeit because she was tainted with a very heavy henbane poison at the time and she didn’t want him to get hurt.
“I rather think, Mrs. Hobbs, that I have made a little bit of a hash of it all.”
“Oh I wouldn’t worry love. The three Cs—that’s what I call Carter, Carlos and Charles, they’re convinced their master is head over heels for you. They’ve never seen a woman in the house apart from Lady Dalston who came only once. And they have never seen anyone get the soft treatment in the earl’s study before. They say that that is his sanctuary. If you’ve beaten him in there, then you’ve already won his heart.”
“I don’t think…”
“I wouldn’t worry. They all come round in time. I spent two years chasing Mr. Hobbs.” Melissa’s mouth dropped open. “And we’ve been married forty years. Now shall I get you some more dinner?”
“Wha… what, two years? I don’t think I can take two more weeks of this!”
“Ah, but there you see we differ. I enjoyed the thrill of the chase!”
“Err, more dinner would be lovely thank you, Mrs. Hobbs. Go on Arturo, go with her.”
Giving the reluctant dog a firm push back towards Mrs. Hobbs, Melissa withdrew into her room, feeling a little shaken. She didn’t think she could look at the feisty Mrs. Hobbs again. Nor Mr. Hobbs. It sounded like she had needed to harpoon the man before she had won him.
Melissa sat back down at her dressing table and looked at herself in the mirror. She had seen Hades turn into fire at her touch. All she needed was the right setting and perhaps that would stake him for her.
She placed the book on birds to one side and stared sightlessly at the next book. ‘Reptiles of the Pyrenees.’ She shuddered. That just reminded her of the Viper.
Carter knocked with another tray of food for Melissa. Taking the tray, she set it down on the dressing table. This time it was just bread and cold ham, and the usual fantastic biscuits. It was just what she needed.
In fact she knew what Hades needed too.
“Carter, please could you wait?” Melissa asked. She scrabbled in the dressing table drawer and pulled out some paper.
“Meet me at a time when the clock has struck nine in a place where your interests reside.”
There. That should do it. It would pique his interest and get him back into the heart of his home. Once there Melissa would… offer herself to him. She shivered.
“Take this note, Carter, and deliver it to the earl, courtesy of Lord Lassiter please.” Carter’s eyes rounded in interest but he said nothing. “And please come back for the tray in an hour.”
“Of course, ma’am.”
After Carter had left Melissa took a large bite of bread and stuffed some ham in her mouth. She chewed and swallowed mechanically two or three times.
She opened up the second book.
It was immediately different to the others. The carefully illustrated book and accompanying words had been overwritten in a large, bold, agitated hand. Melissa knew it immediately as her father’s. Some of the entries were dated, some were not. It had all the hallmarks of a diary.
5 December 1800
I hate him. I don’t know why I agreed to this expedition. I swore I would never associate with him again after what he made me do ten years ago.
Melissa took an unseeing bite of her bread and read on.
6 December 1800
He is just the same. Just the same as when he blackmailed me into marrying his harpy of a sister. I thought my darling Melissa would welcome her as a mother but I was wrong. Every time I return she is that little bit quieter and more withdrawn.
And that baby they said was mine never did materialize.
Her father had never told her that Eliza was not her mother. This must have been the reason he married her. Melissa could have had a brother or sister. Now she never would.
7 December 1800
She used to be so beautiful, but now all she does is spend, spend, spend. She borrowed from me, and from her brother. And now he is hounding me for the money. He wants my house. All my beloved plants that I created!
So he had known about her spending, and still he had left Melissa in that woman’s care when he had died. There were no more entries for a few days and then a flurry followed.
12 December 1800
Oh dear God. There has been a murder. One of our porters has died. I found him at the bottom of the stair well in the pension house. His body was rigid, and his face outstretched in agony as if he was asphyxiated. There are no visible wounds on him apart from two puncture marks on his ankle. It is nothing a poison would do. I wept as I buried him. B. never lifted a finger. He said the man had it coming. What did he do for goodness sake? All he did was carry the baggage!
Melissa pushed her spectacles back onto her nose as they threatened to slip off over the book. She too had seen symptoms like that before and it hadn’t been poison.
13 December 1800
I couldn’t sleep last night. I took a walk around the pension garden with my pipe for company. I had to think about arrangements for when I get back. That man’s death scared me. If Eliza is left in charge of Melissa and I die then my darling is doomed. And she will just cede my property on to B in exchange for wiping out her debts. Melissa will be left with nothing…
Oh, father. Why hadn’t he done something sooner? Melissa wiped a tear from her eye. December 1800 had been when her father had died. At least she knew now that he had thought about her.
…but that is by the by. As I walked around the garden planning my arrangement I stumbled across a meeting. I don’t think I was seen, but I heard every word of it.
“I don’t think meeting here, Viper, is the best idea you’ve had.”
“You are not paid to think, Jeffries, you are paid to act.”
“You ain’t got any of those damn snakes on you have you?”
“Of course I haven’t.”
“Only I saw what you did to that porter after he found the documents about Lord Granwich you were carrying. Death by snakebite. What a way to go.”
“Quite ingenious I thought.”
“Hmm. At least no one suspects you. We can get this information over the border and to the relevant army commander very quickly. The British government will never suspect a professor on an expedition to be carrying secrets.”
&n
bsp; “No. Although I have my doubts about old Arthur Sumner. He kept glancing at me as if he suspected something.”
“I’m sure we can make arrangements for him should he prove difficult.”
Melissa gasped suddenly. But she couldn’t look away from the bold ink on the page.
“You know I never realized how good it was to be a rather nondescript man. People tell you all sorts of things without realizing who you are. Whites and the Royal Society have been a hot bed of information. I have mountains of it at home.”
“Hmm, like your Viper namesake. Sneak up on your prey and he doesn’t see you.”
“Yes, a little bit like that Jeffries.”
“That reminds me. I have a promising young lad that I think you might be interested in employing. His name’s Pedro—his father is Pablo Moreno, the circus master.”
“The circus master that has other interests besides the usual you mean?”
“Oh yes. He’s ably qualified. Or at least he will be when he grows…”
At that point the prose broke off suddenly. The last entry was written in capitals with no date.
“BERTRAND LISLE IS A TRAITOR AND A VIPER”
Bertrand Lisle! That had been the professor who had bought her father’s house from her Eliza. He was the one responsible for harassing her? He was the Viper!
CHAPTER 27
Hades sat deadly still as Freddie’s footman poured him a welcome cup of coffee. He should never have matched Freddie drink for drink the night before. Without fail he got a headache, right in the center of his forehead. He cursed his lack of foresight.
Freddie breezed into the morning room and took a seat opposite him. “Morning, old bean,” he said jauntily.
“How can you be so chipper?” Hades propped his head up with one hand and moaned. “You had more to drink than I. In fact you had an amount that would have felled an ox. How do you keep going?”
“Hmm. Practice I think. I suppose I have overindulged a little lately. The old leg you know.”
“Yes, yes,” Hades said wearily.
“So what are you going to do about the Viper? I don’t recall you mentioning him last night.”
Dangerous Diana (Brambridge Novel 3) Page 20