Black Widow: A Spellbound Regency Novel

by Lucy Leroux

  She scowled at him. “Except for spreading rumors about you murdering Sir Clarence.”

  “Ah, yes, well in my view that’s something quite in character for a member of the ton.”

  “Isn’t that the truth?” Crispin said with a snort.

  “I think I see some of Amelia’s logic,” Clarke said. “It always struck me as a bit odd that someone as conscious of the proprieties as Sir Clarence would have his mistress living with him openly in town. Few said anything because of their respective ages—Mrs. Spencer is hardly a debutante and she claimed to be a widow. When she first arrived in town, Sir Clarence kept a hired companion on hand to observe the proprieties, but once the sticklers became accustomed to Mrs. Spencer, the old woman was quietly dismissed and no one batted an eye.”

  “Tightfisted Clarence wouldn’t pay an additional servant wage if he could get away with it,” Crispin observed, and Amelia nodded. “Even to stop the tongues wagging—after all, it’s Mrs. Spencer who would have been savaged by the gossips, not himself.”

  “Regardless of whether he was concerned with his own reputation, why would Sir Clarence ally himself with a woman like Mrs. Spencer?” Amelia pointed out. “As attractive and presentable as she is, she has no fortune, no connections to any notable families. No one knows anything about her. And I don’t believe Sir Clarence would sponsor any mistress, no matter how charming, unless it benefited him in some way.”

  Gideon pursed his lips. “Love, I understand you’ve been a bit sheltered, but there are many ways a woman like Mrs. Spencer can make herself indispensable to a man.”

  “Really?” she asked with sarcasm. “To a man like Sir Clarence—the man you called the biggest prig in all England?”

  He shrugged. “The thing about prigs is that they tend to be hypocrites as well.”

  Amelia sighed. She knew she was correct about Mrs. Spencer, but men—even her loving husband—did tend to underestimate the females around them. Including herself.

  “I believe Amelia may be right,” Mr. Clarke said, his eyes distant. “There isn’t another reasonable candidate. Sir Clarence had no friends aside from a few cronies at his clubs, and from all accounts, those relationships were superficial. In the last months of his life, when we were keeping a close watch on him, he had no visitors of note, no tradesmen who came and went with any regularity. And it makes sense his magical mercenary was someone he kept close at hand. And Amelia’s point about Mrs. Spencer’s background is a valid one. She’s known to be tight-lipped about her family and only mentioned in a vague way she was from Somerset.”

  “A magical mercenary and mistress in one. You may be right,” Gideon told Amelia, rubbing his chin. “That’s a convenience even a miser like Sir Clarence would value, enough to sponsor a woman through the high cost of the season. Mrs. Spencer always dressed in the height of fashion—a very expensive proposition for someone like Clarence. And clearly, Mrs. Spencer benefited from the arrangement in other ways. She was accepted in the best homes and was seen everywhere. Though of mysterious and most likely humble origins, she has taken to the ton like a duck to water and would be loath to leave town.”

  That fit with what Amelia knew of her. “Which means she should be easy to find, surely?”

  Clarke held up a hand. “I’m afraid I have some bad news. As you know my information network is still hard at work. They’ve been monitoring Mrs. Spencer, and she disappeared from town around the same time you departed. At least she was not seen afterward. Enough people noticed for them to make a few more nasty insinuations about you,” he said with a nod to her husband.

  Gideon humphed. “This makes sense. She may have realized she overplayed her hand by using her golem to strangle one of my greys.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “Sir Clarence said he met her in Bath. Is there any chance that’s where she is now?”

  Clarke conceded the point with a nod. “I would guess so. Most people retreat to familiar stomping grounds when they run from trouble. We do have some connections in Bath and can send more men to do some discreet questioning. One thing working to our advantage—I doubt Mrs. Spencer will attempt to live quietly wherever she is.”

  Amelia hoped that was the case. Privately, she didn’t agree about the reason for Mrs. Spencer’s sudden departure from town. Her instinct told her the woman had lost control of the creature she had raised. It made more sense that she had run from it—and not out of fear for a single earl’s wrath.

  If they were correct, Mrs. Ellie Spencer was a witch, one unprincipled enough to harass an innocent member of her own sex. Amelia doubted someone like that would decamp from her hard-won position in the ton over guilt or fear of reprisal. Nevertheless, she couldn’t argue with the plan.

  The witch had to be found.

  Chapter 28

  “Are you certain she’s in there?” Gideon asked.

  “According to the tradesmen, she is. She’s been using Sir Clarence’s existing accounts, though she hasn’t been spending freely or lavishly,” Clarke confirmed.

  “No. If she did, they’d suspect Sir Clarence was not actually authorizing the purchases. She can’t do anything too out of character lest they ask questions. As it stands, I’m surprised she hasn’t been discovered in the lie before. Sir Clarence’s murder was in the papers.”

  “She must have some ready cash, enough to keep up appearances,” Clarke guessed.

  Mrs. Spencer’s hideaway was a suite of apartments in Bath, a place she had frequented with Sir Clarence years ago, one in keeping with his uncle’s spendthrift ways. The street was not the most fashionable, but that didn’t seem to concern Mrs. Spencer.

  While many in Bath were aware of Sir Clarence’s death, Mrs. Spencer hadn’t done anything to call attention to it the way she had in London. Indeed, she was living quietly, but in plain view. She had not done any entertaining since arriving in town.

  “Funny that,” he commented before sharing his observation with the others.

  “It doesn’t surprise me,” Amelia murmured next to him in the carriage.

  She didn’t need to explain why. His brilliant wife was of a mind Mrs. Spencer had lost control of her creation. And she may be right. The current circumstances certainly suggested as much.

  So did that make Amelia safer at this moment or less? Gideon was almost certain she was carrying his child. Intent on protecting them both he had initially insisted she remain in their apartments, but she had argued with him, playing on his insecurities regarding the footmen and Manning’s ability to defend against a creature such as a golem.

  “And really, it’s not likely Mrs. Spencer has the golem secreted in her closet,” she pointed out. “Not in the middle of Bath.”

  Gideon reminded her the Golem of Prague was rumored to be stored in an attic, but eventually, he relented. Letting Amelia out of his sight would cause him more distress than taking her with him, especially since he didn’t go anywhere without a cache of loaded pistols.

  Gideon was carrying two on his person, same as Clarke. Given that Lord Worthing was still lame in one leg, requiring the use of a cane, he only carried one. But the footmen and outriders they traveled with everywhere were also heavily armed.

  Manning approached the carriage window. “She’s there,” his manservant said.

  “Are the other men in position?”

  “Yes, my lord. They’re all around the house and the corners of the neighboring streets.”

  He nodded approvingly. “Good. Remember, if she gets past us, don’t let her escape. Do whatever you need to do to prevent it. We can’t let her slip through our net.”

  They wasted no more time.

  As tempting as it was to kick the door down, Gideon settled for the more socially expedient knock. For a long minute, no one answered, but the curtains on the upper story twitched.

  He signaled his men, telling them to get ready. He was about to rap again when to his shock, Mrs. Spencer answered the door herself.

  “Oh, thank the Lord,” she exclaimed,
appearing genuinely relieved to see him.

  “I was worried you were dead,” she told them, a wild look in her eye as she turned her head right and left, searching the street.

  Mrs. Spencer backed away from the threshold, waving them inside with a hasty “Come”.

  Amelia threw him a triumphant glance as she took his arm to cross the threshold. They entered the darkened suite.

  It was much smaller than he had originally supposed. And darker. Was Mrs. Spencer in such desperate need of funds she couldn’t afford lamp oil or tapers? Or had she picked up Sir Clarence’s miserly ways?

  Suspicious, Gideon pulled Amelia to his left, putting himself between her and the witch.

  Mrs. Spencer perched at the edge of a chair. Now that they were all safely inside, her eyes flitted from his face to the others in a manic fashion.

  Her behavior was far different from the socially assured woman he’d seen moving through London on Sir Clarence’s arm.

  “We know you’re a witch and that you control the golem,” Amelia announced.

  Gideon and Clarke looked at each other. They had agreed beforehand to let Amelia start the questioning, assuming Mrs. Spencer would feel less threatened that way. If she refused to speak, then he would step in and take over.

  Mrs. Spencer sucked in a breath. “Yes, and no. In a way, no one is controlling it now.”

  “So you admit you raised a golem.” Gideon’s voice cold, but far less harsh than the tone he wanted to use with her. “Is it here in Bath?”

  “No, I don’t believe so, although…” Her eyes flicked to Amelia. “It is unpredictable now.”

  Amelia was about to ask another question when he touched her arm surreptitiously. She looked at him and he shook his head a tiny fraction. It was interrogation technique Phineus had taught him. Establish the facts and let the silence stretch. The person being questioned usually filled in the blanks.

  An unseen clock ticked away somewhere behind them. Usually.

  “I met Sir Clarence here in Bath,” Ellie Spencer said, smoothing her hands over her skirts. “He knew witchcraft existed and had been in search of a practitioner to hire for some time. I was making my living telling fortunes and conducting séances, but the baronet had grander plans for me.”

  Finally, they were getting somewhere.

  “What sort of plans?” Amelia asked. Her voice was mild, but her grip on his hand was tight.

  Mrs. Spencer looked down. “It varied. In the beginning, he wanted information for his investments. It was not the sort of thing I was accustomed to providing for my clients—oh, I might have insinuated things about windfalls and the like, but no one can tell the future. Before when a client was dissatisfied, I would use a confusion spell on them and send them on their way. It always worked before Sir Clarence. He wouldn’t take no for an answer. When that didn’t work, he offered me hundreds of pounds.

  “It was more money than I’d ever seen in my life. I tried to muddle along, however, what he asked wasn’t possible. I couldn’t pull the information he wanted out of thin air. I needed to move in his circles, to find and question the relevant parties. Eventually, I came clean about my limitations, thinking it would be the end of it.”

  “But it wasn’t, was it? Sir Clarence had found a witch and he wasn’t ready to give you up.”

  Mrs. Spencer nodded. “He was angry when he realized I needed to move in society as he did. Nevertheless, he was sufficiently motivated to provide me with the education and wardrobe I would need… The speech and accent were not difficult. My mother was the result a liaison between a chambermaid and Clyde Burgess, the son of a prominent family in Somerset.

  She seemed to be waiting for something. “I’ve heard of the family,” Gideon acknowledged with a nod.

  Mrs. Spencer appeared satisfied. “My grandfather provided for my mother’s education, but by the time I came around, he had passed on and there was no more money. But I had enough knowledge to accurately emulate a genteel lady with a little guidance.

  “And Sir Clarence provided that guidance?” There was a tiny pucker between Amelia’s brows as if she was surprised he would exert himself to such a degree.

  “He hired a companion and told her I was a long-lost relative that needed be polished for the season. It didn’t take me long to capture her mannerisms—all those unconscious little movements the ladies of the upper class are taught from birth. Sir Clarence took me to country parties and we began to work together on his business schemes.”

  “More confusion spells?” he asked, remembering the strange disorientation he and Amelia had experienced.

  Another nod. “When it seemed expedient. I could hypnotize some of his business partners or other investors. But when information was not enough, then he would ask me to intimidate them.”

  “And you didn’t have an issue with that?” Amelia’s voice was hard. Gideon gave her hand a warning squeeze. He didn’t want Mrs. Spencer to stop speaking.

  Mrs. Spencer picked at her skirts. She wouldn’t look them in the face. “Honestly, I didn’t think too much about what I was doing. My abilities had never been challenged before. Now they were. I was learning more and more and being rewarded for it. And…by then Sir Clarence and I had become intimate. He promised me if I continued to make myself useful, we would marry.”

  Her eyes swung up to Amelia with an almost accusatory expression. “But then you and his son came home.”

  She blinked and looked up at the ceiling, face hard. “I didn’t understand Sir Clarence’s obsession at first. It seemed quite natural for him to gripe about the two of you settling so far from his home in Northumberland. When you chose to stay in Kent instead of partaking of the season in London, he wanted me to do something about it. But I had heard his valet talking to the coachman one day. The two implied his son would do well to keep his young bride out of Sir Clarence’s grasp. I understood then there was more to his complaints than a desire to be close to his son. So…I read his journal.”

  Her face twisted, and she said no more.

  “You read about his plan to sire his son’s heir.” Gideon said it as matter-of-factly as he could, but inside, his stomach roiled.

  Mrs. Spencer sniffed and glanced at Lord Worthing out of the corner of her eye, making Gideon wonder if Sir Clarence had written about his son’s lover. “I was angry with Clarence. Despite all I did for him, he had stopped speaking of marriage. Instead, he carped about finding some way to bring his son to heel.

  “I knew about golems from my time as a fortune-teller. One of my clients was a wealthy Jew who liked to tell stories. I had traded him my services for some texts on the subject, but they were written in Hebrew and I couldn’t use them—not until I had access to the libraries of the ton. Rich scholars commission translations. I found other texts in English that detailed rituals on various mystical rites, including how to raise a golem for labor. I had been experimenting on how to alter the ritual when Sir Clarence stormed in and demanded I do something to make his son obey him. It was the first time he’d mentioned Amelia, Mrs. Montgomery, by name.”

  The witch’s chin firmed mulishly. “I could practically see him salivating. He wrote down fantasies he had about her while she was living in his home when she was younger. He wanted her in easy reach again, seemingly certain that he would be the one to claim her innocence—as if she hadn’t taken lovers abroad while her Sodomite of a husband amused himself.”

  The tension in the room heightened with those bitter words, but they didn’t say anything as Mrs. Spencer attempted to catch hold of her temper. “I vowed then and there that Sir Clarence would never accomplish this goal.”

  Gideon finally lost his temper. “How did killing Martin with the golem help? Without him to protect her, Amelia was even more vulnerable to Sir Clarence’s schemes.”

  “That was an accident,” Mrs. Spencer cried, bursting into tears. “I had just succeeded in raising the golem but was disappointed to learn how stupid it was. It was incapable of following anything
but the simplest of commands. But I found a way to overcome that. With the right incantations and a small sacrifice, I could put my mind inside it, see what it saw and touch what it touched.”

  Gideon stiffened. A flash of the golem stroking his wife’s nearly naked body rose ran through his mind. He wanted to jump up and shake the woman. Amelia sensed that. Her grip on his hand altered, pressing down to effectively keep him in his seat.

  After a few deep bracing breaths, he calmed down. Mrs. Spencer was continuing of her own volition, the words spilling out almost as if she had been waiting to confess all her sins.

  “I was only trying to scare Mr. Montgomery into leaving England again, but it all went wrong.” Her hand shook as she raised her arms and then snapped them back to wring her hands in her lap instead. “My control of the creature was tenuous at best so early on. I could not judge the dimensions properly. I did not mean to kill him, but he simply flew over that railing.”

  Amelia was stone-faced, staring at the woman in disbelief. “Martin never harmed a living thing in his entire life. He was the sweetest, kindest man that ever walked this earth.”

  Mrs. Spencer said nothing, her eyes on her skirts.

  “Sir Clarence took over the golem later, didn’t he?” Gideon asked before the woman decided to stop speaking altogether.

  After a time, she continued. “Because of his preoccupation with Mrs. Montgomery—the countess I mean—Sir Clarence had stopped coming to my bed. We also stopped planning schemes together. He left me to my own devices for a while, but unbeknownst to me, he would periodically go through my papers. It was there he learned about my experiments with the golem. He was thrilled. He demanded I summon one he could control.”

  “And you did,” Amelia supplied tonelessly.

  “Yes,” Mrs. Spencer said, exhaling sharply. “Over time he became quite adept at managing it. When the countess began to move in society again he was ready.”