by Anne Mallory
The maid’s eyes grew filmy, but she lifted her chin, showing more spirit in that moment than she had in all their previous encounters combined. “Mr. Janson was not a nice man, Mr. Black. I learned that from his previous stay at the inn.” She rubbed her arm, and Kate could see a wicked bruise peeking from under her cuff.
“He threatened you?”
Sally’s expression turned bitter, a look not suited to her usually kind demeanor. “Mr. Janson didn’t threaten. No, he always made a point that he promised. And that his promises were always kept.”
Kate moved forward. “He hurt you.”
Sally tried to maintain a stiff upper lip, but the look was compromised as a tear slipped down her cheek. Kate felt another burst of outrage on Sally’s behalf. Janson had been a monster.
“Mr. Janson was very spoiled. His parents gave him everything he wanted and he took whatever else he desired. He was the chief cock of the walk, to borrow Tom’s phrase. The community loved him for his status and prowess on the field, and those who did not learned quickly to either move on or remain silent.”
“What happened that night, Sally?” Christian’s voice was low and soothing.
“He tried—he had done—he already—” She broke off on a sob, and Benji rushed around them to hug her tightly. She latched on to him.
Christian allowed her a few minutes to compose herself. Kate’s heart was heavy. It was obvious what had happened to Sally. Christian had warned her days ago that she probably wasn’t going to like what they uncovered. But why had Janson done such things in an inn whose owners he was trying to woo?
“He did it because he could.” Benji answered her unspoken question grimly. “He did nearly everything because he could. You don’t understand how things worked around here. It happened before—he caught her behind the stables. After he was done he threatened, no, promised, that no one would believe her innocent, even if she were to yell down the inn. Said he would say she had approached him and had taken advantage of him. I told Sally to tell Mrs. Wicket or Mary all of it, but she wouldn’t. Only reason I know is because we found her afterward, me and Tom.”
He looked devastated at the memory. “Mrs. Wicket and Mary rightly guessed, though I could see it in their eyes. There wasn’t much we could do about it. The Jansons rule this district. Even if Mrs. Wicket and Mary had protested against him, it would have done little good. Nothing ever stuck to Janson,” he said bitterly. “It took a long time for Sally to walk around the inn without a fireplace poker in hand, even when Janson was out of town.”
Kate’s mouth fell open, stricken. “Oh God, oh no. I took the poker from you, Sally. I can’t—I don’t—”
Sally raised her head and stayed further comments. “It’s not your fault, Ka—Mr. Kaden. Mr. Janson attacked me long before you took the poker. I could have retrieved it. I was trying to believe it couldn’t happen again, especially with so many folks staying here at the inn.”
Kate saw Benji flinch. He had probably been trying to boost her confidence.
“I took some towels down, and he grabbed me outside his door. He was drunk.” Her chin rose again, and Kate had the feeling that she wanted everything finally out in the open. “He dragged me inside and threw me on the bed. I was dazed at first, but when he began to undo his trousers, I just grabbed the first thing at hand. He slept with his cricket bat,” she said darkly. “I hit him once, just grazed him across the shoulder and ran toward the gallery door. He lunged at me. I just…I just brought the bat down again. He fell into the drapes and they dislodged. He never got up.”
She shuddered. “There was so much blood. I had Mr. Crescent’s trousers that I was taking to press. I tied them around Mr. Janson’s head to stop the flow, but there was so much. I ran from the room.”
“Were you by chance wearing a green calico dress?”
“Yes.” She seemed surprised. “How did you know? Oh.” She seemed to realize something. “There was a tear in it, a piece missing. I assume you found it?”
Christian nodded. “What happened after you ran from the room?”
Sally looked Christian straight in the eye. “I dragged Janson out to the gallery, tossed him over the railing, and pulled him into the stables.”
Christian sighed, clearly not believing her obvious lie. Benji forestalled him. “I did it, Mr. Black. Sally ran from the room and into me.”
“No, Benji, no!”
Benji touched her cheek. “It’s all right, Sally.” He turned back to Christian. “I tossed him over the rail and dragged him into the stable.”
“You tossed him over, then you and Tom dragged him into the stable,” Christian clarified.
Benji looked as mutinous as Sally had. “I did it alone.”
Christian shook his head, in obvious denial. “You may have started dragging the body by yourself in your panic. I can’t see Tom succumbing to panic. But you couldn’t have dragged Janson all the way on your own. Tom was in the stable, on the night shift, and probably more than willing to help after he heard what happened. You moved Janson’s belongings at that point, because it was too late to act as if his death were an accident. If the weather had been more cooperative, you might have been able to get rid of the body. Alas, it was not. So you moved Janson’s things to make it look as if he had left. Then someone had to hide the murder weapon, his bat.”
They stood tight-lipped.
“Mary hid the bat,” Christian said.
“No!”
At that moment Kate knew it was the truth.
Christian cocked his head. “Benji hid it, then. It was really just the two of you acting in self-defense.”
Both of them were so visibly relieved as to wilt where they stood, still clutching each other.
“Thank you, Mr. Black. What will happen to us now?” Benji asked, head high.
“I’ll talk to the Wickets and take you with me. I don’t think it would be a good idea to leave you here with the likes of Donald Desmond ready to whip up a mob against you.”
“Where will you take us?”
Christian cocked his head. “I have a house near London and connections. We will see what we can work out. Do all the servants know what happened?”
Benji cocked his head in return and seemed to come to a decision. “More or less. Since the guests’ servants are bunking with us, conversation has been limited. We all knew what a rotten bastard Julius Janson was. Only Mr. Wicket was blind in that regard, and even he could only hold on to the blindness for so long. He was getting desperate, if you hadn’t noticed. Desperate to keep intact his ideals about the town’s number one cricket player and handsome man-about-town.”
Christian nodded and turned to Kate. “Anything more you wanted to ask?”
She shook her head, still in shock.
“Both of you stay up here while we sort things out with the Wickets. As soon as the roads clear we will be leaving. The less you see of Desmond or any of the other guests, the better. In fact, can you both stay here until we call for you?”
“Yes. It won’t take me long to pack. And Mr. Crescent’s valet has left our room, so all is clear for that.”
“And Mrs. Crescent’s maid?”
“Staying with Daisy and Bess.”
“Good, good. We’ll see you in a bit. Stay strong, Sally.” Christian gave her an encouraging smile, but stepped no closer to her. It was obvious why Sally was skittish around men she didn’t know well. Kate could have hugged him. Sally’s answering smile was still a bit timid, but no less sincere.
They exited the room and Christian closed the door behind them. Kate leaned against the wall, shock and anger still brimming. He took hold of her and nudged her down the stairs and into their room.
As soon as they were inside, he pulled her into his arms. She trembled and hugged him back tightly.
“What will happen to them? Oh God, I knew Janson was bad. I heard his threats. And I did nothing.”
He pulled back and lightly shook her. “No, Kate. It’s not your fault either. It’s Janson’s
fault. Let it go.”
“But—”
“No.”
Although the high-handedness of the statement might have caused her outrage at another time, she felt the tension ease from her body.
“Janson got away with so much because he was the son of a squire,” Kate said. “Like the nobility, just what Mrs. Wicket said. And Sally is a by-blow, did you know? I found that out accidentally the first day I was here. Sometimes even servants can be careless when they think they are alone. The daughter of a baronet and an upstairs maid. Of course, her father never acknowledged her. Kicked them right out.”
Christian wasn’t sure he liked where this conversation was headed.
“Just like the titled, powerful aristocrats to care about their own pleasures and use those in lower classes before throwing them away like so much waste.”
“Yes, well—”
“Happens all the time, Christian. Surely it sickens you?”
“Yes, well—”
“You are a gentleman at heart, no matter what you claim, and you must have seen this type of thing before.” He saw her shudder. Funny, his collar felt tighter than when he had fastened it earlier.
“The upper classes just take and take. And they get away with anything. Worse, they know they can.”
Yup, definitely tighter.
“My brother’s friend is a minor baronet. He’s the one my brother, half-brother actually, wants to sell me off to. Says I should be happy with what I can get. The man is repulsive, though. Not much better than Janson, really.” She shuddered again, and Christian couldn’t even appreciate her sudden chattiness as he felt a familiar curl of rage building inside.
“What?”
“I’m running, of course.”
“You aren’t marrying him.”
She patted his arm. “Of course I’m not. And it’s kind of you to offer to help.”
“You will tell me their names.”
“Oh, I doubt we will run into them.”
“You will tell me their names.”
She seemed to finally catch on to the fact that his words were clipped and his face a thundercloud.
“Christian?”
“You won’t be marrying this baronet. I don’t care what your brother threatens you with.”
She ran a hand down his arm in a soothing manner. It worked. A bit.
“That’s sweet of you. If it came to it, he could force me, and there is nothing you could do. He is a baronet. My brother will gain custody of me if I can’t outsmart him for a few more days.”
He touched her cheek. “I’m not worried. And if they are stupid enough to come near you before you are ready to claim your inheritance, they will be very sorry.”
“It’s not much of an inheritance. Probably a pittance to you—unless you really have gambled it all away. But money is money, as my half-brother has always said. And I could live off of it. Maybe get a little place of my own with a garden and no clocks,” she said wistfully.
“I’ll get you a little place with a garden and clocks. You won’t be afraid of them anymore.”
She gave him a strange look. “Christian, you can’t just say you’ll buy me a house.”
“You’re right. I will buy it instead.”
“But—”
A knock on the door interrupted her. Christian grabbed the knob, happy for the excuse.
Elias stood there with his hand ready to knock again.
“The carriages will arrive in half an hour, sir. Will you be needing one?”
“Yes. Wait. On second thought, would you be willing to run to the Green Toad?”
Elias looked at him strangely, but agreed to visit the other inn. Christian gave him the description and name of his driver and pressed a coin into his hand. Kate gave him an odd look as well, but he just shook his head.
“I need to talk to the Wickets and make arrangements. Will you be all right here, Kate, or do you want to go downstairs?”
She looked outraged, and he almost smiled.
“I can handle myself quite well, thank you.”
He gave her a small salute. “As you wish, my lady. I’ll track you down in the dining room or here in fifteen minutes or so.”
He had an innkeeper to appraise, a deal to work out, and a problem to solve. He had tangled his own web and deceived Kate, and now he was going to have to work out how to get rid of the snarls. The snarls had never been a problem in the past; he had simply left and started over. But he didn’t want to start over. He wanted Kate. He wanted honesty. Honesty from her and for her. And he hadn’t the first clue how to be in an honest relationship with someone else.
He had less than one hour to tell her he was really an earl in disguise before the evidence beat him to it.
Chapter 19
Just when you think things are at an end, watch for a new beginning.
George Simon
to Kate, age thirteen
Kate watched as Christian closeted himself in the office with the Wickets. Benji and Sally were fetched a few minutes later, and Tom followed a few minutes after that.
Christian had said something about buying her a house. He couldn’t have been serious. But what if he was? Was he proposing something more concrete between them?
Everyone was milling about the dining and tap areas, even the servants, because it was obvious that something important was going on. Donald Desmond’s eyes were narrowed as he surveyed the closed door and everyone in the room. His eyes narrowed further when they landed on Kate.
Kate looked away. She had already gained more attention from trailing Christian than was wise. Honestly, if she had been using her head, she would have stayed as far from him as possible. But something told her that she would have regretted that more. Regretted it more than—
“So did you and the idiot discover who did it? I hope it put a little more hair on your chest. People mistake you for a girl often, I bet.”
—her identity being discovered.
Kate gripped the bench with her left hand and tried to look unruffled as she traced the carved patterns in the table with her right forefinger. “I’m sure the Wickets will inform everyone of the proceedings soon enough, Mr. Desmond.”
“They’d better.” There was a dark, feral look in his eye. “And I want the murderer strung up by tonight. Too many servants in there to be anyone else. Which one of them did it? That bloody creep from the stables?”
“Mr. Desmond, you will find out when everyone does. You just need to wait a few minutes more.”
“No.” He stalked toward her. “I want to know now.”
He grabbed her chin and forced it up. She tried to pull away, but his grip was too strong.
“Now see here, Mr. Desmond—” Elias started toward them.
Desmond pointed a finger, shaking with rage and a bit of madness. “Stay right there. I will deal with this.”
“Let the lad go, Desmond,” Tiegs said in a lazy voice.
Desmond gripped her chin for another second before roughly releasing her. “Tell me, boy.”
She started to say something scathing, but noticed the change in his eyes. He gripped her chin again and started laughing demonically.
“Oh, ho, ho. Mistaken for a girl, I had that reversed. Black isn’t a complete idiot, I see. Do this often, do you? Black like his women only when they look like men? What does that cost a gent?”
He released her chin and leaned into her space, his hands planted forward on the table, directly in front of her. A malicious smile curved his thin lips.
“Pardon me?” she asked, completely unnerved.
“Answer my question, whore.”
Kate blinked. “What?”
“I said, how much does he pay you to dress as a man?”
Kate looked around the room. Most of the people were staring in fascination at the two of them. Really, these people had had more than their fair share of entertainment these last few days. Mr. Wicket should have been charging stage fees.
A few people looke
d confused, while Daisy shot her a look of sympathy.
It didn’t take long for the confused, few though they were at this point, to catch on, especially after Desmond ripped her cap and head wrap from her head. Her short curls spilled free.
She heard Mrs. Crescent gasp and fought to regain her composure. Hadn’t she just admitted to herself that the adventure had been worth her discovery? Well, here it was put to the test.
Desmond grabbed her shirt and pulled her forward. “What’s your name, whore?”
She grabbed his wrist and twisted just as she’d seen Christian do. He hissed and raised his other hand. Her vision slowed. Tiegs gestured to his thugs. Elias, eyes wide and mouth open, started to lunge forward. Olivia put one slender hand to her mouth. Mrs. Crescent looked outraged, her eyes trained on Kate. And then there was nothing but a blur of flesh as Desmond’s fist descended.
Kate’s eyes closed waiting for the blow. There was a shout, and a whiff of air brushed her cheek.
“What is going on here?” Christian’s tone was low, the words perfectly enunciated, ice in every syllable.
Kate opened her eyes to see Christian’s hand closed around Desmond’s fist, mere inches from her face. Christian’s knuckles whitened, and Desmond’s mad expression turned pained as his face whitened as well.
Christian pushed him backward. Desmond clutched his fist and turned hateful eyes on him. “Your whore here was about to tell us what you pay her.”
“Kate is not my whore,” he said calmly, as if talking about the weather. “You have obviously been stuck inside too long, Desmond. Perhaps a brisk walk outside and away from this inn would do you good. Perhaps you would care to make it a permanent trip.”
“Not until I find out who murdered Julius.”
“Ah, yes. Julius’s death, an unfortunate accident. I’ll be taking it up with the constable when he returns. Mr. Wicket has promised to take care of the body so that it will be ready for burial when his parents return.”
“What about them?” He pointed at Benji, Tom, and Sally, who was partially hidden by the men.
“Ah, yes. They have key information about Mr. Janson’s accident. They will be coming with me until events are sorted out with the constable.”