Mark of Caine Trilogy: Book One: Hidden in the Shadows (Victorian Villains)

by Catherine Lloyd

  They were in the carriage, en route to Windemere Hall. Her cousin, who was now her husband, was breathtakingly handsome in his long navy blue formal coat. The contrast of his golden hair and sapphire blue eyes against the collar was very attractive. Clara enjoyed looking at him.

  “Tanner was giving me a brief family history of which I had no knowledge. I’m not sure what to make of it.”

  “Well now you must tell me or I’ll go mad with curiosity.”

  Branson shook his blonde head. “It was superstitious nonsense. But if it had merit, his story would explain some things that I have kept hidden even from you, Clara. It could explain why I am the way I am.”

  She peered into his face with concern. “You have changed. You are not the man you were.”

  “Am I not? I wonder if a man can ever be truly free of his destiny.” He gathered Clara into his arms. “And what did you think of this long lost brother of mine, Tanner Caine?”

  “He reminded me of you. He has a way of looking at one like a lion examines its prey. And he is ruthless and handsome. But he is also too confident. Tanner has not met Laura Mayhew and I have. I’ll wager that Miss Mayhew is just as ruthless and has far more at stake than he does. In taking on this assignment, your brother may have bitten off more than he can chew.”

  Branson grinned and kissed her on the mouth. “Then he is like me after all.”

  §

  Gateshead Asylum, Berkshire ~ two days later

  TANNER CAINE presented the letter to Matron as an attaché to Sir Horatio Mayhew and glanced at his surroundings while he waited for her to deliver it.

  Gateshead Insane Asylum was picture perfect, an efficient and presumably well-run institution. He could see the reason for Clara Hamilton’s warning. There would be protocols in place that would prevent a stranger, regardless of his credentials, from walking off with one of the patients. He was wondering how he was going to pull it off when a nurse in the newly-formed Order of Nightingale Nurses stepped out of the director’s office. Their uniform concealed much, making one nurse indistinguishable from another. This was deliberate on the part of the founder, Florence Nightingale, who had upset the medical profession with her clarion call for standards set in patient care and in the training of nurses.

  THE UNIFORM was acquired with some difficulty. Tanner overestimated the influence he would have as Sir Mayhew’s attaché on one pretty nurse in particular. He managed in the end to gain his prize by requesting a sample of the uniform that he may present to his lordship as part of his report.

  The skirt was long plain grey wool with a matching bodice of puffed sleeves that tightened at the wrist and were covered with white cuffs. A white bib apron was worn over the dress and a white headpiece fitted over the brow and covered the hair like a wimple. It would make an ideal disguise. He folded the uniform and tucked it in leather courier pouch that he kept with him at all times. If he was unsuccessful through legitimate means, Tanner would resort to illegitimate means to secure his mark.

  “Dr. Rutledge will see you now,” Mrs. Sutherland said. “If you will follow me this way.”

  The doctor sat behind a large oak desk, his hands holding the letter and frowning. He tossed Tanner a cursory glance when he entered, but did not rise to greet him. The office was filled with books, rich furnishings, and the carpeting was new. Dr. Rutledge waved the letter in Tanner’s direction.

  “What is all this? Sir Horatio Mayhew is requesting his daughter’s release! This is news to me. Does he complain about the treatment she’s received here?”

  Tanner folded his hands in front of him. “I do not know the precise contents of the letter. I am only at liberty to say Sir Horatio has had misgivings about committing his daughter. Miss Laura’s absence has grieved Lady Mayhew and Sir Horatio would be easier in his mind if his daughter were at home. He thanks you for the excellent care and compassion you have shown Miss Laura, and he asks that you entrust her to my care so I may return her to Dorset immediately.”

  “He expects me to sign my patient over to you.”

  “He asks you to do so, yes.” Quietly unyielding. That is how to handle men like Rutledge.

  Dr. Rutledge sat back in his seat. He did not invite Tanner to sit down. He stroked his moustache and scrutinized the man in front of him suspiciously.

  “I confess I am not comfortable with this proposal. Laura Mayhew is only now beginning to respond to treatment. In my professional opinion, it would be criminal to remove her at this stage of her recovery. I shall write Sir Mayhew to make my recommendation. Is he in Dorset? It shouldn’t take more than a day to receive his reply. Not too much of an inconvenience, surely, to ensure the well being of the patient?”

  Tanner shrugged. “Not too much of an inconvenience. I am at your service, sir. May I see Miss Laura? I would like to become reacquainted with her—with your permission, of course.”

  Dr. Rutledge wrote a message on a card of paper and handed it to Tanner. “Give this to Mrs. Sutherland. She will arrange to bring Laura to the solarium. You are not to upset her,” the doctor instructed sternly. “Do not question her about her illness or her delusion. She is still in its grip but I am confident a breakthrough is forthcoming. I will not have you undoing all of my good work.”

  Tanner nodded a brief bow and left the office. He found Mrs. Sutherland in the room across the hall and handed her the card. The woman read the message and then gazed at Tanner in inquiry as though she did not understand. Her eyes then fixed on his deformed face and she seemed to be rendered speechless by what she saw.

  He had grown accustomed to such rudeness. The cause of the paralysis on the left side of his face was due to his father infecting his mother with syphilis in the early stages of her pregnancy. It had been called a birth defect, but Tanner thought of it as a benediction. It had marred him and directed his mind away from all things good.

  “Mrs. Sutherland,” he repeated, “will you inform Miss Laura Mayhew that a gentleman has come from her father to see her, and then if you could direct me to the solarium, I will wait for her there.”

  The Matron recalled her manners. “I will be glad to, sir,” she said briskly. “If you will follow me this way, it won’t take but a minute. Miss Laura will be so pleased to hear she has a visitor at last. What name may I give?”

  “Tell her Mr. Tanner Caine is here to see her and that we have a mutual friend who sends her regards. Thank you, Mrs. Sutherland.”

  Tanner was ushered into a glass and green enclosure, moist with vegetation, serene and refined. The conservatory was furnished was small white tables and chairs of wrought iron filigree. The impression the visiting relative (or inquisitive social reformer) would have on walking into the solarium was one of civility and genteel convalescence. Deeper in the bowels of the asylum, the rooms were sure to tell a different story.

  He took a seat at one of the tables and drummed his fingers impatiently. Whatever plan he could concoct, it had to happen quickly and during this visit. He could not be in the neighbourhood when Rutledge received word that Mayhew was out of the country. Tanner wanted a decent lead before he was discovered. They had his name and a description of him. Laura Mayhew’s death would inevitably be traced back to him.

  Tanner was pondering a solution to this problem when a young woman entered the solarium, carrying a book. She wore a dull gown of institutional green and her hair was cut to her shoulders and tied back. Shining hair of burnished copper, and when Tanner stood up to greet her, he saw her eyes were brilliant green—a true green. Her full mouth was pale pink and her complexion was flawless, translucent.

  She was the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes on.

  An angel in Hell.

  “Laura, this is the gentleman I told you about,” Mrs. Sutherland said maternally.

  Laura Mayhew. Tanner stared at the green-eyed beauty who was watching him with a similar intensity.

  “Let me not to the marriage of two minds admit impediments.”

  He tilted his h
ead. “I’m sorry?”

  Her eyes lifted to his, remarkable green eyes, the colour of the ocean. Looking into them, Tanner experienced a presentiment of disaster.

  “But that your trespass now becomes a fee; mine ransoms yours, and yours must ransom me.”

  “Mine ransoms yours, and yours must ransom me?” He smiled but his heart was pounding. His palms were damp and his mouth felt dry. Laura Mayhew and her words sent a shiver of alarm and horror through him and he did not know why. “What does it mean?”

  “It means whatever you want it to mean, given the situation in which you find yourself. In my situation, your trespass is my ransom. Don’t you see?”

  Tanner felt he was being pulled down under the ocean, deeper and deeper into those fathomless green eyes. “No, I’m afraid I don’t. What is my trespass?”

  “Oh, don’t pay this one any mind, sir,” Matron sighed impatiently “She is only quoting Shakespeare. The sonnets are a favourite with her. Miss Laura, the gentleman does not care to listen to your ramblings. He’s come from your father to check on your progress.”

  “That is not quite accurate. I’ve come to take you home,” he said when he could find his voice. The girl standing demurely before him with folded hands and a faraway expression on her face was not at all what he expected.

  “My father has sent for me?”

  “He has, indeed. I have given the letter requesting your release to Dr. Rutledge. I am to escort you to your home in Dorset. Did you know we have a mutual friend, Miss Mayhew? Mrs. Hamilton sends her regards and wishes you joy in your endeavours.”

  “Do you know Clara?” Laura set her book on the table. “Did she speak to you of my endeavours?”

  “A little. She was not specific.” Tanner had resolved to say as little about himself as possible, but he could not help adding, “Her husband and I grew up together. Branson Hamilton was my brother for a time.”

  “Was he really? How fascinating. I would love to hear more about it. Are you a lover of Shakespearean poetry, sir?”

  “I cannot say that I am. I’ve not had much time for reading or study. Your father keeps me very busy attending to his business, and I’ve been away at sea for the past year. Mrs. Hamilton warned me I must not be a bore. She said you enjoy hearing about the world outside. I daresay you are accustomed to conversing with your visitors on all manner of interesting subjects.”

  “I very much doubt the young lady is accustomed to any such thing, sir,” Mrs. Sutherland laughed. “Laura Mayhew has been with us since March of last year and she has had no visitors in all that time. You are her first. Though she’s good as gold. Mayhew has earned privileges such access to the library and she is free to roam the facility without supervision. It was not always so, was it, dear? At one time, the young lady found it quite difficult adapting to her situation. But she has been making a wonderful progress.”

  The girl smiled at Matron. “I suppose that’s why Father has sent for me. He knows I am well again. Will you send an orderly to pack my belongings, Mrs. Sutherland? We do not want to keep this gentleman waiting any longer.” She turned to Tanner. “I’m sorry sir, I was given your name but I cannot recall it.”

  “I am Tanner Caine.”

  She took his hand in hers and squeezed it gently. “Mr. Tanner Caine, I am delighted to make your acquaintance.”

  “Miss Laura Mayhew. At your service.”

  She did not release his hand nor did he release hers. Were it not for Mrs. Sutherland’s gentle cough of interruption, Tanner believed he could have stood with Laura Mayhew in the solarium holding her hand for hours.

  “Laura, you know the rules. Dr. Rutledge will not authorize your release until he has confirmation from Sir Mayhew. We do not want anything to jeopardize the progress you’ve made, now do we?”

  Laura gazed at Tanner, bewildered. She held his hand as though she expected him to disappear at any moment. “I don’t understand. I thought my father had already given his permission and I am to go home.”

  “He has,” Tanner replied neutrally. “But Dr. Rutledge asked for time to present his case to your father advising against your removal at this stage in your treatment. He has written him a letter and when we have your father’s response, which should take no more than a day or so, we shall journey to Dorset.”

  “Oh, I see.” Laura nodded. Still clutching his hand, she turned to Mrs. Sutherland. “As he has come such a long way, I should like to show Mr. Caine the garden,” she said. “I think he would enjoy walking the hedge maze. There is time while we wait on father’s reply.”

  “Hedge maze?” Tanner raised a brow at Matron, an indulgent smile playing over his lips.

  Mrs. Sutherland leaned in, sotto voce. “Miss Mayhew is referring to a maze we have maintained in the garden beyond the wall. I believe it is quite old, dating back to Elizabethan times. The institution was built on the site of a fourteenth century manor house. The maze hedge is all that remains of that estate.”

  Tanner turned his gaze to Laura. “I should enjoy seeing your hedge maze very much. When may we begin?”

  “There is no time like the present, sir,” Laura said. “In fact, there is not a moment to lose.”

  §

  THE DEFORMED left side of his face was presented to Laura. He looked like a gargoyle about to carry off his prey.

  But the man was not a gargoyle. Unless she very much missed her guess, Tanner Caine had been sent by Queen Victoria. The dark, unusual man following her into the garden was a professional assassin. Not sent from her father to bring her home, a macabre ruse that was doomed to fail. Laura knew full well that Sir Horatio Mayhew was hard at work on the Continent saving his own hide. As far as Horatio was concerned his daughter could rot in Gateshead. Mr. Tanner Caine was obviously unacquainted with the ruthlessness of the very rich and powerful.

  He is not what I expected at all, she mused. Not one of the queen’s usual fat and florid gentlemen in Her Majesty’s Service. This one actually looked dangerous. Laura had never set eyes on him before. Where did he come from?

  His principal asset was undoubtedly his appearance. Mr. Caine was frightening at first glance. Mrs. Sutherland was disturbed, despite her best efforts to conceal it. It was likely the man believed his affliction protected him from becoming intimate with his marks.

  Perhaps it worked on some. Laura thought it only heightened his desirability.

  Tanner Caine had been marred by a deformity. The left side of his face was pulled down causing his eye to droop and his mouth to curl to one side. The defect would make him difficult to know for it intimidated one from making further inquiry.

  Fortunately, Laura did not have to rely on words to read what was in a man’s mind.

  THE GIRL led him across the manicured garden and through a gate in the stone wall. Beyond was the hedge maze just as Laura Mayhew described. An eight-foot-high meticulously clipped hedge of geometrically perfect right angles.

  She hesitated at the entrance. Tanner wrenched on his collar, already feeling the sides of the thick green foliage closing in around him. He’d never liked confined spaces and the thought of entering the maze, wandering with no escape, trapped—was suffocating.

  “Are they watching us?” Laura Mayhew said, looking in the direction of Gateshead.

  “There was no one in the main hall. One of the orderlies might have seen us come out to the garden but there was no one else about. Why?”

  “You shall know soon enough. Follow me.”

  Chapter Four

  TANNER CAINE followed the girl into the maze, walking the narrow grassy path. She led him down dead end after dead end, until he began to think she was doing it on purpose to confuse him. At each corner there was either a bench or a piece of statuary to act as markers but Tanner lost his bearings almost immediately. He was having trouble breathing in the confined space. Laura darted ahead of him, rounded a corner, and suddenly disappeared from sight.

  Grinding his teeth, he ran after her until he was deep inside the
maze. He pressed his arms out on either side of him, feeling the springy leafy walls close, too close.

  Tanner slowed his step, controlled his panic and listened for his quarry. He drew in a deep, silent breath and glanced at the sky to reassure him of space. Then he exhaled slowly and examined the ground for her tracks. Her movements were light but her footprints were left on the dewy grass and these he followed.

  At the end of the path, the hedge appeared to come to a dead stop, but then he saw her foot prints had made a sharp right turn. Sure enough, the maze continued in a narrow concentric pattern. It was like being trapped in a green, smothering cage. Tanner wiped the sweat that was pouring down his brow, and yanked again on his collar, trying to draw breath.

  He bent over, resting his hands on his knees and closed his eyes. Tanner drew in a long breath and then exhaled. She would not best him. He would not be beat so easily. Remembering his mission, he straightened and moved noiselessly around the corner of the hedge.

  Laura Mayhew had her back to him and seemed uncertain how to proceed. He caught her by the arm and whirled her around to face him. “What in hell do you mean running off like that?”

  Her eyes were wide with surprise but she quickly collected herself. “You know why.” The girl hissed with fury and struggled to free herself of his grip. “There is no mystery about it. You are not from my father. You are not here to bring me home.”

  Tanner wrenched her close to his chest to control her thrashing. Without thinking, he reached down and smoothed a strand of copper hair from her forehead. “Am I not?” he said seductively. “Then why am I here?”

  Her breath came in rapid puffs and her eyes turned on his, pleading. “To kill me,” she whispered. “You are here to kill me.”

  TANNER CAINE’S dark, forbidding stare was unreadable. Laura tried to intuit what he was thinking but his masculinity intruded on her concentration. He held her pinned to his broad chest, gripping her wrist in one of his large hands and his other arm was fastened around her lower back. She had never been in such close physical contact with a man before.