He rose and made his way to the corridor, where he picked up the tea tray. When he returned, Lady Langston was standing. "Set it right there on the hearth rug, if you please, Mr. Mayne," she said. "We'll enjoy our tea there, like an indoor picnic." After he did so, she clasped his hand between both of hers. "Thank you for sending for me."
"I'm glad you were able to come." He glanced down at Julianne, then raked his free hand through his hair. "I knew she needed someone."
"You're very perceptive. And I can see, very concerned. But please don't be. I'll take good care of her."
He nodded. "Caesar will remain outside the door."
She released his hand and pushed up her glasses. "What's left of the door. You broke it down?"
"When she didn't answer…" His voice trailed off, and he shrugged.
"How is your shoulder?"
"Fine. Much better than the door. While you're enjoying your tea, I'll see about arranging repairs."
Lady Langston nodded, and after one last look at Julianne, Gideon quit the room and headed toward the stairs. As soon as he turned the corner and was out of sight of Julianne's chamber, he stopped. Leaned against the wall. Dropped his head back and closed his eyes. Drew in a shaky breath.
For a horrible few seconds when she didn't answer him, he'd thought he'd lost her-that when he broke through that door he wouldn't find her alive. That another woman he loved was gone. His heart had seemed to stutter then halt, and every cell in his body had screamed an agonizing No!
Thank God that worry had proven fruitless. But it had given him a taste of the agony to come. Because she'd be married in two days. Gone in two days. Lost to him forever in two days, as surely as if she had died. And that agony he'd experienced for those few horrible seconds was what he would live with every day.
In just two days.
After dragging in a few more breaths, he pushed off the wall and continued toward the stairs, determination coursing through him. He had to discover the murderer's identity before then. If he didn't, there was every chance the danger would follow Julianne to Cornwall, where he wouldn't be able to protect her. And the thought of that was even more torturous than that of her belonging to someone else.
He'd almost reached the foyer when the brass knocker sounded. He paused on the stairway while Winslow opened the door. The sight of Henry standing on the flagstones had Gideon hurrying down the remaining steps.
"Mr. Locke is here for me," he told Winslow. He tensed at Henry's troubled expression. Clearly his friend had news for him… news that wasn't good. Bloody hell, was it concerning Jack Mayne? "Is the library available for us?"
"Yes, Mr. Mayne. Follow me, please."
Gideon headed down the corridor, cursing the ridiculous formality of the butler's escort. It wasn't as if he didn't know where the damn library was located. The instant Winslow departed, closing the door behind him, Gideon said to Henry, "You have news."
"I'm afraid so."
Henry's tone filled Gideon with dread. Dread that he was about to hear his father's name. He braced himself for the blow.
"There's been another murder and robbery, Gid."
It took Gideon several seconds to absorb the news, and he was ashamed of the relief he felt that Henry's visit didn't have to do with Jack Mayne. "Who?" he asked. "When, where, and how?"
"Vivian Springly, Viscountess Hart. According to the magistrate, she died only within the last few hours from a blow to the head. She was discovered in her private sitting room by a maid. Nothing appears to have been disturbed in the house, except her entire cache of jewelry-which she kept in her private sitting room-was gone."
"Who was home at the time? Was anyone admitted to the house?"
"There was no one at home except the viscountess. The entire staff had the afternoon free."
Gideon frowned. "Was that usual?"
"Happened once a week for the past month, according to the maid."
"Most likely she had a lover," Gideon said. "Any idea who?"
Henry shook his head. "Maid said her mistress was very secretive about it."
"Where was her husband?"
"Dead. Viscount Hart died three years ago after being thrown from his mount."
"Why was the maid at the house when she'd been given the afternoon free?"
"Said she'd come back because she'd forgotten her money."
"Or because she wanted to catch a glimpse of the secret lover."
"Most likely," Henry agreed. "Instead, she caught a glimpse of the dead viscountess through the open sitting room door."
"Anyone besides the magistrate there?"
"Simon Atwater," Henry said.
Gideon nodded at the name of his fellow Bow Street Runner. Atwater was a good man, thorough and intelligent.
"One thing I think you'll find interesting," Henry said. "The viscountess has a connection to one of the names on the list you gave me."
Gideon's interest quickened. "What sort of connection?"
"She is-was-Lord Penniwick's sister."
And that, Gideon decided, was very interesting indeed.
After thanking his friend for the information and getting Henry's promise to keep him informed of any new developments, Gideon escorted his friend back to the foyer and bade him good-bye. He then turned to Winslow. "I need to speak to Lord Gatesbourne as soon as he arrives home."
"His lordship returned just moments ago, Mr. Mayne. I'll see if he's available."
Winslow headed down the corridor, and Gideon paced the foyer, his mind racing. He was convinced these were not haphazard crimes committed upon random victims. Something connected them. Something that would lead him to identify the killer. Perhaps this latest crime would provide the clue he was looking for.
Winslow returned a moment later. "His lordship will see you now." He escorted Gideon to the earl's private study where he was greeted by Julianne's father's frosty gaze.
"Well?" the earl asked. "Dare I hope this interruption means you've some good news?"
"No. Another murder and robbery has been committed." He quickly related the story Henry had told him, concluding with, "There has to be some connection between these crimes."
"Of course there is," the earl said. "They've all been perpetrated upon wealthy members of society. Their jewels stolen, the owners killed so as not to be able to identify the thief."
Gideon shook his head. "No, I mean something more. I don't believe these are random crimes. There must be something that links these particular victims…" Pieces of the puzzle shifted in his mind, clicking into place in a pattern he hadn't seen before. Bloody hell, why hadn't he thought of this earlier? He fixed his gaze on the earl's. "Something that you are somehow connected to."
"Me?" the earl repeated coldly.
"Yes. All of the victims have been women. Lady Julianne's life was threatened. I think-"
"That all those women are somehow connected?" the earl broke in. He shook his head. "Impossible. While Julianne might have been acquainted with the ladies who were killed, I assure you she had nothing whatsoever to do with Mrs. Greeley."
"Lord Jasper's mistress." Gideon nodded. "I agree. But I'm not thinking the connection is between the victims, but rather the victim's families." He nodded toward the earl's pen set. "May I have a piece of vellum and use your pen?"
The earl nodded his consent, withdrawing the vellum from a drawer and sliding it across the shiny mahogany surface to Gideon. Gideon carefully wrote the victims' names then listed their immediate family members. Lastly he added Julianne's name as an intended victim, with the earl and countess as her family members. When he finished, he handed the list to the earl.
"Please add any family members to the list I'm not aware of. Do you see any connection between the family members, anything at all, no matter how remote it might seem?"
The earl studied the list at length, while Gideon watched him. For several minutes his expression remained completely impassive. Then a frown bunched between his brows.
"You've disc
overed something?" Gideon asked, leaning forward.
"Perhaps." He circled some names. When he finished he handed the list to Gideon. "This is a group of investors who joined together about a year and a half ago for a business venture."
Gideon perused the names while Gatesbourne continued, "Besides me, you'll see Lord Daltry-"
"Whose wife died the day after his party," Gideon broke in. He continued down the list. "Lord Jasper, whose mistress, Mrs. Greeley, was killed. Lord Ratherstone's wife died, and the latest victim, Viscountess Hart, is Penniwick's sister." Gideon's instincts tingled with grim excitement when he noted the Duke of Eastling's name. "The duke's wife also died, a little over a year ago," he murmured.
The earl seemed startled then nodded. "That is correct. I'd quite forgotten, although she committed suicide."
"Tell me, is anyone on this list related to Lords Beechmore or Haverly?"
The earl nodded. "Ratherstone is Beechmore's uncle. Jasper is Haverly's father."
Gideon felt as if bells clanged in his head. His gut told him he'd found the link. "It cannot have escaped your notice that each of your daughter's suitors is either on this list or, in Beechmore's and Haverly's case, closely related to someone on it."
"Which proves what?" the earl asked.
"Nothing-yet. Except I find it very curious. And coincidental. And I don't believe in coincidences. Tell me, does Lord Walston have any close female relations?"
"A sister and a mother. One of them, or perhaps both of them, is traveling. In Italy, I believe. There are aunts and cousins, of course."
Gideon ran his finger over the final three names. "Count Chalon, Mr. Tate, and Mr. Standish. Who are they?"
"Friends of Eastling's."
"You are acquainted with them?"
"No. They all reside in Cornwall. Eastling's known them for years."
"Wealthy, are they?"
"Extremely. Which is why they were allowed to invest."
"Tell me about this investment," Gideon said.
"It had to do with the development of a fleet of fast ships guaranteed to cut travel time significantly. We were all keen to invest."
"How did you hear of it?"
"At my club. Actually, we were all there, except the Cornish fellows."
"Who spoke of it first?"
The earl considered then answered, "Penniwick approached me about it. At that time, Walston, Eastling, and Jasper were already involved. It seemed an excellent opportunity, and I invested."
"What was the outcome?"
"Unfortunately, the whole thing went belly up."
"So you all lost money."
"Yes."
"How much?"
"Ten thousand pounds."
Gideon stared. "Altogether, or each of you?"
"Each of us." He shot Gideon a cold stare. "Investing is a rich man's game, Mayne. None of us put in more than we could afford to lose, and we all understood the risks going in. Sometimes these things go your way, and sometimes they don't."
Gideon could only inwardly shake his head. He couldn't imagine ever possessing such an enormous sum. Nor, if he did, doing anything to jeopardize it.
"So what is your theory?" the earl asked. "That someone is targeting us?" He nodded toward the list Gideon held.
"It is certainly a good place to start. I'm going to see what I can find out about the men who live in Cornwall. See if there have been any crimes committed against their families. Did any of the other investors know them?"
"Not that I'm aware of. Only Eastling, who vouched for them."
Gideon nodded. "I'm going to warn Lord Walston to be on guard. You should also consider that your wife might be in danger."
The earl's brows rose. "Julianne was this madman's target last time."
"Yes, and he failed." Thank God. "He might switch his attention to your wife."
"Who would do this?" the earl demanded. "And why?"
"I'm not certain yet. But I intend to find out."
Before it was too late. But he felt hope now as he hadn't before. Because he not only believed that women connected to the men on the list were being targeted, he strongly suspected one of the men on the list might be the murderer, targeting the others. Given the amount of money involved, it was certainly possible. But why not simply steal the jewels? Why kill the women? What sort of twisted mind was preying on the innocent?
Four of the men were already victims. Walston and Gatesbourne were the only two who hadn't been robbed or suffered the murder of a close female. Perhaps Count Chalon, Mr. Tate, and Mr. Standish fell into that group as well, but that would take some time to ascertain-something he'd assign to Henry right away. The duke's wife had died, but not recently, and supposedly by suicide. Nor had the duke been robbed.
Gideon's gut told him one of those men was guilty. Now all he had to do was figure out which one.
Before the bastard had the chance to strike again.
Chapter 20
Glass of punch in hand, Julianne stood with Emily, Sarah, and Carolyn and surveyed the crowd milling about the duke's richly appointed drawing room. Dressed in her new sapphire blue gown from Madame Renee, she felt like a freshly bathed lamb being led to the slaughterhouse. Conversation hummed around them, the news of Lady Hart's shocking murder on everyone's lips, including her trio of friends. At least that's what Julianne surmised they were discussing, as she was too distracted looking about to be certain.
Her gaze fell upon Gideon, and her breathing hitched. He stood near a pillar, about fifteen feet away, deep in conversation with Matthew, Daniel, and Logan Jennsen. As if he felt the weight of her stare, he looked toward her. And for Julianne everyone else in the room faded away. God help her, she was miserable. And frightened. And so in love with him she could barely think properly.
He'd told her he'd remain close by during the party, and she felt comforted by his presence. He'd also told her that under no circumstances was she to venture out of his sight-a directive she had every intention of following. She thought of poor Lady Hart and the other victims, and a cold shiver ran down her spine. She didn't want to meet a similar end.
Gideon had been particularly insistent as he'd been forced to relegate Caesar to the kitchen. When he'd arrived with the dog, the duke had flatly refused to allow Caesar entrance, stating that he didn't allow pets in his house. That the beast could wait for Gideon in the kitchen, or Gideon could leave as well.
"Is something amiss, Julianne?" Carolyn asked.
She forced her attention back to her friends. Only everything. "No. I was just thinking about…"-all the things I want that I cannot have-"these terrible crimes. And the announcement that will be made this evening."
Emily nodded. "I cannot believe that the wedding will take place in two days."
"Neither can I," Julianne murmured.
Silence swelled between them, then Carolyn said in a too bright voice, "You'll be a beautiful bride."
"Stunning," Emily agreed.
"And we'll all come to visit you," Carolyn said.
"Of course we will," Emily added quickly. "And you'll come to London for the season."
"And we'll write letters," Carolyn promised, giving her hand a quick squeeze.
"Lots of letters," Emily agreed. She nudged Sarah, who'd remained silent and looked troubled, with her elbow. "Won't we, Sarah?"
"Yes," Sarah said quietly.
Because Julianne knew her friends were trying to make her feel better, she tried her best to smile but feared the effort was less than successful. "Thank you. That sounds lovely."
And she wished with all her heart that she meant it.
* * *
From his post by the pillar, Gideon maintained an excellent view of the room. His gaze fell upon Julianne and, as always, his heart seemed to cough several times at the sight of her. She was listening to something one of her friends said, and his throat tightened. She looked so damn beautiful. And so damn sad. She should be smiling. All the time. She should be happy. Always.
&nb
sp; Just then her lips curved upward, and his heart coughed once again. Bloody hell, when she smiled, she was so lovely it almost hurt to look at her.
"They're all four grinning," came Logan Jennsen's voice from directly beside him. Gideon turned. Logan was talking to him but looking at Julianne and her friends. "Makes one wonder what they're discussing."
"Something they're not supposed to be, no doubt," Lord Surbrooke said, joining them.
"Gives me shivers just to think about the mischief they could be concocting," Lord Langston chimed in. "Of course, so long as they remain in our sight, they can't get into too much trouble. I think." He turned to Gideon. "Jennsen's told you that Daniel and I want to help in any way we can. That we intend to do so."
Gideon nodded. "Lord Langston-"
"Matthew, please."
"And Daniel," Lord Surbrooke added. "We've been keeping an eye on the gentlemen Jennsen mentioned," he said in an undertone, "but so far the worst thing I've seen is Beechmore filching extra glasses of champagne."
"I was wondering," Gideon said, "have any of you heard of Count Chalon? It's a French title but he's lived in Cornwall for years."
"Never heard of him," said Matthew, while Daniel and Logan nodded in concurrence.
"And I spent a year in France before coming to England," Logan added. "Who is he?"
Instead of answering, Gideon asked, "How about a Mr. Standish or a Mr. Tate, both also of Cornwall, both wealthy and from well-respected families."
"Common names, but still I don't know of them," Daniel said.
"How wealthy?" Logan asked.
"Enough so that a loss of ten thousand pounds wouldn't distress them."
Logan's brows rose. "So extremely wealthy. Interesting that their names are unfamiliar to me, as I've made it my business to know about those in such advantageous financial positions."
"They don't spend time in London."
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