Adam shifted. “Yes, but more so now. He will not stop until he has what he wants.”
John wrinkled his brow and focused more firmly on his brother. There seemed to be some subtext to his words that John did not fully comprehend. Adam was far too worried for a normal response to their father’s intrusion.
“Adam, what is it that you fear?” he asked softly.
His brother returned his gaze to the ledger before him and shrugged. “I could not say, exactly. But I certainly hope you will not allow yourself, or these others you refuse to reveal, to fall prey to him.”
John clenched his fists. There was more to his brother’s response than Adam was saying and he wished to pry out the details. But their reunion was still so fresh that he feared pushing would only drive his brother away.
He had a guard on Mariah now, and never had he been so firmly certain of a decision. She would be safe. He would settle for nothing less.
“There will be no prey for our father to find, Adam,” he said as he settled into his seat. “I will be sure of that.”
Chapter Fourteen
Vivien held Mariah’s hand as they slipped out the servants’ entrance of her estate. It was dark behind the house, but a footman holding a small lantern led the way down a path into an alleyway where a carriage was parked. Mariah smiled. Vivien’s regular vehicle was only the best and highly recognizable with its bright red trim.
This carriage was not. It was small, a bit run-down and would blend in perfectly with a thousand others rumbling around on the streets this night.
“Where did you find this thing?” she asked.
Vivien did not reply as the footman helped them up into the rig and shut the squeaky door behind them. Inside, the carriage was perfectly serviceable, though nothing fancy.
“This was a vehicle I was provided many years ago by my first protector,” she finally explained. “I kept it even when I had newer models, both as a reminder of where I began and a conveyance for my servants if they needed to go somewhere. I would hate to have them being forced to use hacks, which are very expensive.”
The vehicle jolted into motion and as Mariah reached out to steady herself on the wall of the carriage, she smiled at her friend. “You really are the kindest of mistresses to your servants, aren’t you?”
Vivien shrugged. “I try to treat anyone in my employ with care. After all, they not only see things that could be very incriminating, but they are also hardly beneath me. I am, after all, a servant in my own way. Or I have been in the past.”
“Now you are a self-made woman,” Mariah laughed, “who all other courtesans and mistresses wish to imitate.”
To her surprise, Vivien did not answer that compliment, but turned to look out the window. In the dim light from the street lamps outside, she saw her friend’s face lift in a smile.
“We are about to pass your guard. Let us see if we have fooled him.”
Mariah leaned forward to peer out of the window Vivien indicated. Sure enough, they were approaching the man on horseback. As their carriage rolled past, she shrank back against the seat, even as she stared. The man shifted on his horse slightly, but there was no other reaction. And as she leaned to see his figure disappear behind them, he made no motion to make chase.
She flopped back against the carriage seat with a sigh of relief, although there was more anxiety twisting her stomach in knots than pleasure.
“John will be furious when he finds out what we’ve done,” she said softly.
Vivien turned away from the window and there was a look of concern on her friend’s face as she stared. “That may be true, if he finds out.”
“You don’t think he will?”
Vivien shrugged. “We will be back at a reasonable hour, I’m sure. There would be no reason for him to think anything other than that you and I shared a long supper. Unless you tell him otherwise.”
Mariah shifted. Her friend was right, of course. And she had no intention of telling John that she had snuck away to meet with a potential protector, not unless that new relationship worked in her favor. But the idea of withholding the truth, perhaps even lying outright to him, did not sit well.
Vivien sighed. “My dear, it is best if you don’t think of John tonight.”
Mariah returned her attention to the sights out the window. Vivien was right, of course, but if one thing had become clear in her life over the past few days, if was that it was impossible for her not to think of John. He was a constant figure in her mind, in her dreams. She woke with his name on her lips and went to sleep with his face in her mind.
And all this had led her to one terrifying conclusion, one fact that had peeked into her mind thanks to her earlier conversation with Vivien and taken root there, until now it was an undeniable force. One she had denied in the afternoon, but could no longer do so.
“I…I am in love with him,” she whispered.
She sucked in a breath. Now that it had been said out loud, she realized how true that statement was. She loved John Rycroft. Worse, she had loved him for some time. Oh, she had said they were friends, she had told herself that the bond that seemed to have existed between them from the moment they met was only affection caused by their mutual feelings for Owen.
But it wasn’t true. There had been something more between them from the start.
Vivien had remained silent as all these tangled thoughts raced through Mariah’s mind, but now she whispered, “I know that, my dear. I know you love him.”
Mariah sighed. Of course she did. Vivien knew everything. And what she must think of her now!
“You know,” she said, hoping to find a way to explain herself. “I have thought a great deal about Owen since his death last month. I believed that I was in love with him. And I did care for him. Deeply. But this is…different.”
To her surprise, Vivien leaned forward and seemed truly eager to hear more. “How?”
Mariah pursed her lips as she thought of the question. She had never allowed herself to analyze the differences before, only let them flit through her mind before squashing them and calling them unkind.
“With Owen, I spent a great deal of time trying to love him despite himself. Because he could be very…selfish, I had to forgive his faults, ignore his weaknesses and so very often remain silent on my opinions that might be so bold as to differ from his own. He required that of me, as a mistress.”
“I admit, I did see those very things when I looked at the two of you together,” Vivien said.
Mariah jerked her gaze to her friend. “You did? Why did you never say anything?”
Vivien smiled sadly. “You are unlike me in many ways. You have been a man’s lover for years, but you still retain some innocence about you. You needed to believe you loved him in order to continue forward on your path. And while you two were together, what good would it have done to correct you? To ask you to face Owen’s imperfections? It only would have hurt you.”
Mariah shook her head. “I suppose that may be right. But I still would have appreciated your opinion. I respect it a great deal.”
Vivien reached across the carriage and squeezed her hand. “Then I will give it to you now. I do think what you share with John is very different. You two have a strong connection, one that comes from both sides. You are a good match and that is abundantly clear whenever you are in a room together.”
“Yes.” Mariah cleared her throat past a sudden lump there. “But that difference can give me no more joy than my forced affections toward Owen did. John has made it abundantly clear that he cannot be with me. Or more specifically, he doesn’t want to be with me.”
“It is more the first than the second, I can almost guarantee it,” Vivien said, her tone very low and filled with comfort.
Mariah appreciated the effort, but she shrugged. “One or the other, the result is the same. And so you are correct. I must put John out of my mind and find someone to protect me. As much as I would like to curl up in a ball and simply mourn what I cannot have, w
hat I almost had, it is not possible.”
“No, you cannot do that,” Vivien said, her voice suddenly distant. “Women of our station do not have that luxury to mourn love. This is our life and we can do nothing but live it as it has been presented to us.”
Mariah nodded. “And I intend to do so.”
“Good,” Vivien said and her tone was now clear and strong as ever. “My dear friend, let me say one more thing on the topic and then we shall not speak of it again unless you desire it.”
“Very well.”
“John Rycroft is a fool not to love you,” Vivien said with a shake of her head. “And so was Owen. But a man’s love is a very dangerous thing anyway, so you may not realize it, but you could have dodged a very dangerous situation.”
Mariah smiled. Her friend meant well, but her words did not help. She shrugged. “I have never experienced the love you describe, so I must take your word for it.”
She looked out the window and was relieved to see that they were turning into the long drive of a city estate.
“It appears we are here, wherever the mysterious here is,” she said, her tone as bright as she could make it under the circumstances. “And I shall shine and coo and seduce to the best of my abilities.”
But as Vivien laughed and they prepared to exit the carriage, Mariah knew what she said was nothing but a lie. She might pretend a great deal, but a part of her was dying tonight. A part she desperately wanted to save, even though it wasn’t possible.
Mariah smiled at their host from across the room and did not have to force the expression. Viscount Felix Edmondstone was a well-known and highly respected man of the ton. He was older than she, much older; she guessed somewhere in his forties. He had lost his wife three years before and had never had lovers during their time together, so she hadn’t met him before now, but she liked him a great deal. He seemed kind, intelligent, gentlemanly, and from the way he talked to her and kept his stare on her, he liked her well enough too.
He did nothing to stir her body or her heart, but that was best. A mistress wasn’t supposed to feel strong passions or emotions. Doing so once, let alone twice, had more than proven that fact.
She turned away from the gentleman and poured herself a glass of wine from the decanter on the sideboard. As she took a sip, she felt a gentle hand on her forearm and turned to find Vivien standing at her side.
“Would you like to take a turn about the parlor down the hallway? Lord Edmondstone tells me there are some very rare books in that room and I know how you love your reading.”
Mariah nodded in relief. She wasn’t having a bad time, by any means, but getting away from the crowd sounded heavenly. The two women linked arms and both gave a nod to their host as they slipped from the room and down the hallway to another parlor. Once they were inside, Vivien released her and Mariah leaned back against the closed door with a sigh.
“It cannot be as terrible as your expression implies!” Vivien said.
Mariah shook her head. “Oh no, not at all. Is my face really so awful?” She found a mirror above the fireplace and examined herself. She did look a bit drawn. “I hope he did not feel the same way.”
Vivien moved to the fire to look at her reflection as well. “No, it wasn’t until you left the room that you relaxed into this expression of a tormented lady.”
“Good.” Mariah stepped away and paced to the window to stare outside. “I promise you, I am not having a dreadful time. Lord Edmondstone is everything good and gentlemanly.”
“He is, indeed,” Vivien agreed. “He has not had a mistress in nearly fifteen years. He gave that all up when he married his late wife. I thought he would be a good match to you, as he is not wild, he is kind and he will likely want your company as much as your body. More to the point, he is capable and willing of taking care of you if you do the same for him.”
Mariah could hardly keep her frown from deepening on her face. “Yes, that is exactly what I need. He will do, I suppose.”
But her thoughts flitted immediately, as they had been all night, to John and his passionate embraces. His kiss, his whispers of desire against her ear. To the connection they shared that went so much deeper than friendship.
Vivien took her hand and the act mercifully cleared her mind of those troubling thoughts.
“I agree that he could be the one for you. That is why I brought you here, but Mariah, do not jump so quickly. This is a first meeting. Have a few more, get to know the man and then make your decision.”
Mariah shifted. Once again, Vivien’s voice of reason was quite correct, but it was hard to follow. Knowing she loved John and could never have him made her want to run. And entering into a protector/mistress relationship with Edmondstone was one way to do just that. John would let her go if she found another.
Vivien released her hand. “I shall leave you alone for a moment and make your excuses. Do take a look at the rare books, for that is what I intend to tell our host and other guests that you were taken in by.”
“Vivien,” Mariah said as her friend moved for the door. She turned there with a questioning tilt of her head. “Thank you. Your friendship is all that makes this odd situation bearable.”
Vivien’s face softened. “Of course. My friendship is something you shall always be able to depend upon, no matter what happens with Edmondstone, John Rycroft or any other man.”
Then her friend was gone, leaving Mariah to collect herself. Not an easy task, considering how busy her mind and how heavy her heart were. And both were filled with memories of only one person.
She sighed as she turned to examine the bookshelves Vivien had offered as a reason for her to take a moment to herself. She doubted even books could offer her respite, but at least it was worth trying.
There was a small bookshelf against the back wall between two comfortable chairs and she moved over toward it. She bent down at her waist and looked over the titles, making note of a few she found interesting so she could gush over them later for the benefit of her host.
Finally, she straightened up and turned to exit the room, but as she did so there was a flash of movement from the corner of her eye, a burst of pain as something connected squarely to the side of her head and then darkness as she slumped to the floor.
John stared at the ledger he had been examining with his brother earlier in the day. Adam had made notes in the margins here and there, corrections, as well as suggestions for savings and increasing growth. He should have been focused on those things, especially considering that Adam’s notes were quite detailed and interesting.
But he wasn’t.
All he could think about was Mariah.
“Fuck,” he cursed as he shoved his chair away from his desk with violence and paced to the window. It was getting late and the lights from the streetlamps and houses glittered like diamonds all around him. He had always liked the night, been more comfortable in the shadows it provided.
But now the night reminded him of her too. How he should be with her right now. How he had spent so many nights tangled in her body. Worse yet, how he had spent so many nights courting her smile or listening to her speak on topics that were a passion to her.
He rubbed his eyes and tried to forget, but his traitorous mind would not allow that. He was a prisoner to himself and there was no ignoring or denying that fact.
There was a light knock at his door and he spun around to face his servant in relief. An interruption would at least force him not to think of her for five minutes.
“Yes?” he asked as Swanson stepped into the doorway.
The butler, normally so composed, seemed a little rattled. “Sir…you have a delivery.”
John glanced at the clock on his mantle and blinked. It was nearly midnight. “So late?” he asked.
The servant held out a bulky package, wrapped in white paper twisted around what was obviously some kind of fabric.
“Sir…” he said as John moved forward to take it. “Th-there appears to be blood on the outer wrapping.
”
He turned the package over as John rushed to him, and sure enough, there was a thick, dark fleck of red liquid on the seam of the paper. John stared.
“Could it be ink?” he asked.
Swanson shrugged. “I hope so.”
“Stand by,” John said. “And be prepared to send someone to fetch the Watch if need be.”
Swanson nodded sharply. “I’ve already told one of the younger footmen to prepare himself.”
John smiled despite the tension. He could always depend on his servants.
Slowly, he peeled away the paper, being careful to leave the spot of red intact in case there was an investigation in the future. Inside there was a piece of linen wound ’round something heavy, and to his horror, more of the red liquid dotted the fabric.
He and the butler exchanged a quick glance before he flipped the fabric aside and revealed what was inside. What he saw made him stagger backward, catching himself on the edge of the desk before he fell.
“What is it?” Swanson asked as he leaned closer in the light.
“It—it is a necklace Mariah sometimes wears,” John choked out. “And it is splashed with blood.”
Chapter Fifteen
John pulled his horse up short in front of Mariah’s home and was down and running before the animal even fully stopped. He pounded on the door with his fist, even as he tested it. It was locked, of course. As he waited for a servant to arrive, he looked around.
The guard he had hired to track Mariah and protect her was nowhere to be found. Which meant either he had been incapacitated…or she wasn’t here.
The door cracked to reveal Mariah’s butler Lymon, his eyes wide and his face pale thanks to the racket John had been making. The man was even wielding a heavy candlestick up almost as if it was a weapon, but when he saw it was John outside, he lowered it with a blinking stare of surprise.
“Mr. Rycroft?” he asked. “I—we did not expect you this evening.”
“Where is Mariah?” John demanded as he shoved past the butler into her foyer. The house was strangely quiet. Too quiet, and John’s desperation mounted. “Mariah! Mar—”
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