The Black Widow

by Charlotte Louise Dolan

  “Peace, peace,” Lady Anne said, holding up her hands in mock surrender. “I am sure Demetrius will be the best possible husband for you and that you will be the perfect wife for him.”

  To her own surprise, Meribe began to think that perhaps Lady Anne knew what she was talking about. Perhaps Demetrius did truly wish to marry her. Looking up at the mostly darkened house, she wondered if he was likewise thinking about her and wondering if she really wished to be his wife.

  Unfortunately, she was not likely to have a chance to reassure him.

  * * * *

  Demetrius finished explaining to Leatham the events in London which had led up to his unexpected announcement that he was getting married the next day.

  “I would say the odds are better than even that Meribe’s sister will make one last desperate attempt to prevent the marriage, but I believe we have the situation well in hand.”

  “Swinton and I will both spend the night hiding in Thorverton’s room, so we will have no trouble overpowering any intruder,” Hennessey explained, “and none of us will eat any food or drink any beverage that we did not bring with us, so there will be no opportunity to drug us or poison him.’’

  “If you wish,” Leatham said, “I can return after I see Anne safely home.”

  “I appreciate your offer,” Demetrius said, “but that would doubtless cause talk among the servants. Since we wish to prevent scandal, the fewer people who know of Hester’s infamy, the better. I am sure we are prepared for whatever she may be plotting. If she has any sense of self-preservation, she must realize that if she tries anything, she will only be condemning herself. Yet from her expression at dinner when I announced that I was marrying her sister, I fear that despite the odds against her, she is desperate enough to make one last attempt.”

  “It is to our advantage that we have successfully isolated her here,” Uncle Humphrey added. “We have, of course, told the servants to report to us immediately if they see a stranger lurking about, without telling them why we are especially interested.”

  Leatham did not look completely convinced. “What worries me is that on too many occasions I have seen the most foolproof plans fall apart.”

  * * * *

  Jane had helped her into her nightclothes, brushed out her hair, and at last had left her alone, but Hester was feeling too on edge for sleep. Sitting in a chair by the window looking out at the endless moonlit moor, she had never felt such desolation of spirit. It was as if she were trapped in a nightmare, unable to wake up. Except that this was no dream.

  A slight movement of air on the back of her neck caused her to turn her head in time to see the door to the hallway closing. Before she could cry out, a black figure rushed at her and a gloved hand covered her mouth.

  “Not a sound,” Lionell’s voice hissed in her ear, “else we are betrayed.”

  Easily breaking loose from him, for in truth, any muscles he appeared to have were nothing more than tailor’s art, Hester whispered back, “How dare you enter my room this way! Be gone, before I scream the house down!”

  “Ecod, surely you do not think I have any intention of compromising you? No, no, my dear, I want no scandal to attend our marriage. And do not forget that if you do not keep your voice down, we may attract some unwelcome attention. It would indeed be disastrous for our plans if I were caught in your room.”

  “Marriage? Plans?” Hester asked, feeling again the chill she had felt at the dinner table when she had seen the glitter of madness in Lionell’s eyes. It had been bad enough when she had been in a well-lighted room, surrounded by family and friends, but now, isolated in her bedchamber with a madman, her terror knew no bounds.

  Ignoring her questions, Lionell continued, and his whispers had the intensity of a religious fanatic she had once seen preaching damnation in St. James’s Park. “I have come to warn you not to try to stop the wedding tomorrow. Thorverton knows too much.”

  Hester was grateful that she was sitting down, because her legs were trembling so much, she doubted they could hold her. “You may rest easy; I shall not try anything,” she whispered back, hoping if she could just appease him, he would be reassured enough to leave her room, giving her an opportunity to find help.

  “They are now plotting together in the billiard room,” Lionell said with such a gloating tone in his voice, Hester was quite nauseated, “and from what I have heard, so far neither Thorverton nor any of those other fools has even begun to suspect me. That is why it is better if I do everything alone this night. All I require from you, my sweet, is that you stay out of the way in your room. I would hate to dispose of Thorverton only to discover that you have done something to make yourself a suspect.”

  With a heartfelt cry, Hester leapt out of her chair and made a dash toward the door, but Lionell was too quick for her. She felt a sudden jerk on her nightgown, lost her balance, and went down onto her hands and knees. Before she could scramble to her feet, Lionell was crouching beside her, and the moonlight coming in through the window was adequate for her to see that he had a silver-chased dueling pistol in his hand.

  “Oh, no, my sweet, you shall not turn against me now—not when I have expended so much time and money in helping you secure your father’s fortune.”

  “You are responsible for the fatal curse—for the accidents that happened to my sister’s suitors!”

  He did not make any effort to deny her accusations. Instead, the gun came closer. She tried to back away, but Lionell grabbed her arm. This time she was afraid that if she struggled to free herself, he might—accidentally or on purpose—pull the trigger.

  “Do I detect a certain reluctance to fulfill your part of our bargain? Oh, no, my precious, you will not cheat me out of my due when we are so close to winning the prize. We have had an understanding lo these many years, and I shall not lose when it comes down to the wire.”

  Without stopping to think about the possible consequences of angering the madman who was beside her, Hester blurted out, “We have had no agreement.”

  “But of course we have had an understanding, and we shall be married just as soon as you inherit your father’s fortune. Do not think you can cheat me, either, for if you even try, I shall swear an oath on the Bible that you were with me every step of the way. In fact, by the time I finish, I shall have everyone convinced that I was but your unwitting pawn, cleverly manipulated by you. So keep in mind, my sweet, that if I am hanged for murder, I guarantee I will lay such evidence against you that you will find yourself swinging from the gibbet beside mine. Now that I have done your dirty work, it is too late for you to cast me aside for another bridegroom.”

  “But I never even so much as suggested that you ... that you should kill anyone. I never even hinted at such a thing.”

  “Bah, even I cannot believe your protestations of innocence, and a jury would laugh in your face. After all, what motive could I have for involving myself in your affairs, other than that you had asked for my help and promised to share your fortune with me?”

  “I shall turn all the money over to you—every penny of my father’s fortune—if you will only give up your plans to try to kill Thorverton.”

  “But you forget, my love, that if Thorverton lives, you will have no fortune to give me. No, no, I am afraid I have no alternative but to have my assistants dispatch his lordship to his heavenly reward. Do you know, I had been regretting that I was forced to shoot Mr. Brannigan, but I believe the two new men I was able to hire in London will serve my purposes better. They seem much more capable of using finesse. The giant tended to rely on brute force rather than intelligent planning.”

  Covering her face with her hands, Hester began to cry. Large sobs racked her body, but for all that she could not stop them, at least she managed to weep silently.

  Pulling her hands away, Lionell slapped her across the face, cursing her and calling her the foulest of names.

  It took her only a split second to realize that he had used both hands, and without stopping to think, she lung
ed for the shadow that must have been concealing the pistol.

  So close—her fingertips actually touched the barrel of the gun—but Lionell was again quicker than she was. Before she could regain her balance, the pistol was once more pointed at her forehead.

  “You begin to annoy me, my dear,” he said coldly. “I think the time has come to ensure that you do not interfere in this night’s work.” Reaching inside his jacket, he pulled out a silver flask and held it out to her. “Drink this,” he commanded, “and do not try any other foolish tricks. We have already determined that you are not as fast as I am, so it will avail you naught to try to throw the wine in my face.”

  She hesitated, and he rose to his feet and stood over her. Pushing the barrel of the gun against her temple, he again ordered, “Drink it!” and such was the menace in his voice that she could not doubt but that he was capable of shooting her dead on the spot.

  With a shudder she unscrewed the cap and lifted the flask to her lips. The wine was nauseatingly sweet, but still she was able to taste the bitterness of the laudanum with which Lionell had apparently laced it. After several swallows she began to gag, but Lionell prodded her with the pistol and commanded, “Drink every drop,” and somehow she managed to comply.

  He stayed beside her while the lassitude crept up her limbs, and with her last conscious thought she wondered if he had given her enough laudanum to put her to sleep for a few hours ... or forever. But the question no longer seemed important.

  * * * *

  Her wedding morning did not dawn any too soon for Meribe. The night had been overly long, and she had lain awake through most of it, her body tense, her ears straining to hear any sounds of a scuffle coming from Demetrius’s room. Not that she could have heard anything through the thick walls and solid oaken doors of Thorverton Hall.

  Lying there wondering how long she would need to wait before she could reasonably ring for Jane, Meribe heard a scratching at her door.

  She hurriedly climbed out of bed, pulled on a robe, and opened the door a crack.

  Lionell Rudd stood there, but it was a Lionell she had never seen before. His jacket looked as if he had slept in it, his cravat was askew, and most astonishing of all, he was wringing his hands and appeared to be crying.

  Thrown into a panic, Meribe grabbed his arm and dragged him into her room, most improperly shutting the door behind them. “What has happened? Has Demetrius been hurt? Oh, tell me, for I cannot bear this suspense.”

  “No, no, he is all right,” Lionell managed to gasp out. “But my poor Hester—how could she have done such a vile thing? I had no idea ...”

  Seizing him by the shoulders, Meribe shook the little man until he ceased his useless wailing. “Now, tell me what has happened,” she said with a calmness she was far from feeling.

  He hiccupped once, then blurted out, “She tried to enter Lord Thorverton’s room—she had a dagger, and it was obvious what she intended to do. She was like a madwoman, but Hennessey and Swinton managed to subdue her, and they sent me ...” He hiccupped again. “They sent me to fetch you. They are even now smuggling Hester out of the house, and we are to meet them just outside the gates.”

  Taking a deep breath, he continued, “They told me to be sure none of the servants see us, else there will be a terrible scandal. Oh, dear, this is all so dreadful.’’

  “Yes, yes, I understand,” Meribe said, opening the door and peering down the corridor. No one was in sight in either direction, so she pushed the dandy out of her room. Before she shut the door, she whispered, “I shall meet you below in the library in ten minutes—no, in five minutes.”

  The driveway leading up to Thorverton Hall was long, and Meribe was frequently forced to pause so that Lionell could catch up with her. Then, spotting a closed carriage ahead, she abandoned the dandy, held up her skirts, and ran toward the vehicle, her feet fairly flying across the gravel.

  “Demetrius, are you all right?” she cried, flinging open the door and peering into the shadowy interior.

  The coach was empty—no Hester, no Demetrius, no one. Turning, she saw Lionell surprisingly near her, and the expression on his face made it immediately obvious that he had tricked her.

  Instinctively she backed away from him, and to her dismay, she bumped into another person, who was so solidly built he did not even stagger. She gasped, but before she could cry for help, a large meaty hand covered her mouth and a harsh voice rasped in her ear.

  “There’s no cause to struggle, missy. It’ll do you no good, and if’n you’re not careful, you’ll hurt yourself.”

  She did struggle, but the man was right: her efforts were pointless.

  A second ruffian joined the first, and as they were both armed with wicked-looking horse pistols, Meribe was soon seated in the coach beside Lionell, who was smiling in the most odious manner. On the opposite seat, the larger of the two ruffians was likewise grinning at her—and even worse, his gun was pointed directly at her chest.

  * * *

  Chapter 15

  Demetrius was bound to come after her, Meribe realized, and when he did, he would be facing three armed and dangerous men. If only there was something she could do to lessen the odds against him. But the man seated opposite her was no weakling like Lionell. A heavyset man, he was wearing a shabby gray-brown overcoat, and so fierce did he look, she could well believe he was in the habit of shooting one or two people before breakfast every day.

  Despite her efforts to be optimistic, an image filled her mind—an image of Demetrius riding to her rescue—followed by a second image of him lying on the ground, a bullet hole through his chest. She should never have—but such thoughts were useless now—worse than useless, in fact. She had no time to waste wallowing in self-recriminations. What she needed to do was devote all her energies to discovering a way to escape from Lionell’s trap.

  Knowledge was power, her governess had always told her, so perhaps if she learned more about what this madman had done, she might be able to figure out a way to outwit him. There was only the slightest chance of success, but she had to make every effort. Trying to keep her voice from trembling, she asked, “Do you mind explaining to me where we are going and why?’’

  Lionell smiled—no, she realized, it was actually more of a leer. “I found, my beloved, that when it came down to it, I could not allow you to marry another. I could not even bear the thought of another man holding your hand, much less—”

  “What rubbish!” Meribe exclaimed. “If you expect me to believe that you care one whit about me, then you are deluding yourself, for it is quite obvious you love only yourself—and perhaps your tailor.”

  His laughter grated on her nerves, and she clenched her fists to keep from slapping him. “I see we shall deal famously, my sweet. I also prefer dealing frankly, and indeed, you are quite correct—it is only your father’s money I love, not your person, and that is why I have done my poor best to see that you did not squander his fortune on another man. My friends here have therefore arranged for a yacht to be waiting for us in Exmouth, and once we are at sea, the captain has agreed—for a fee, of course—to marry us.”

  In a pig’s eye, Meribe wanted to say. She had never been so angry in her life, but with two pistols pointed at her, she had to maintain a calm facade even while she was seething inside. “So you are the one who hired Black Jack Brannigan to kill poor Collingwood and Thurwell and Arleton and Fellerman?” So little emotion was in her voice, she might have been asking about the weather.

  “In truth, it was not necessary for me to kill Collingwood. But his accident was most fortuitous for me. When you were left at the altar, so to speak, I realized that all I needed to do was hire Black Jack to kill off all your suitors, one by one, and then after Hester inherited your father’s fortune, I could marry her and be a rich man. But Black Jack failed to kill Thorverton, and then, like a fool, he came looking for me and wanted fifty guineas from me despite his lack of success. When I refused to give him a farthing—and indeed, why should I pa
y for a job not completed to my satisfaction?—the man threatened me, and I was forced to shoot him.

  “Looking back on it, I can see I acted a bit rashly. I should have tricked him into giving me the name of another assassin before I killed him. Do you know, it is not as easy as one might think to find a professional killer for hire. It took me far too long to find my two new associates.”

  Clenching her hands in her lap, Meribe asked, “And was it you yourself, then, who poisoned Mr. Wimbwell?”

  Lionell smirked. “I did that very cleverly, you must admit. I acquired the poison several years ago, thinking it might come in handy, and so it did. He was such a stupid old man, coming to Hester and telling her his suspicions. If he had gone to the authorities and laid information against us, all would have been lost.”

  Hester—dear lord, was it true, had she indeed condoned the murders? “And what about my sister? Is she meeting us later?”

  Now there was more than anger to be seen in Lionell’s face; now Meribe could see the madness that had been festering away all these years in his soul.

  “The devil take that sharp-tongued harpy! After all I have done for her, she has had the gall to try to cheat me out of my due. Last night she claimed she had never made a bargain with me ... insisted she had not even known I was arranging all those murders ... pretended she had said nothing to lead me to think that she would marry me if I helped her inherit a fortune.”

  “And did she ever say anything?” Meribe asked, praying that his answer would be what she wanted to hear. “Did she actually come right out and say, ‘Yes, Lionell, I will marry you’? Did she ever ask you directly to kill anyone?”

  He now looked as sulky as a spoiled child who has been crossed for the first time. “I don’t remember if she ever used the word ‘murder,’ but what difference does it make? She kept whining to me about how you would inherit everything, and she told me repeatedly that she wished you were not going to marry and thereby gain possession of the fortune that should have gone to her as the elder child. To my way of thinking, that is the same thing as asking for me to arrange things so that they would fall out to her benefit.”