BOUND BY THE EARL

by Alyson Chase

  Sutton grunted.

  “Is your friend installed there as manager?” Julius asked. “Is the club still operating?”

  “For now.”

  Julius glanced at Max from the corner of his eye. “Problem?”

  The big man heaved a sigh. “Let’s just say Mrs. Bonner was none too happy when she discovered the nature of the business I asked her to run. But she’s pragmatic. She’ll get past her qualms.” He tucked his chin, and rain rolled from the brim of his hat onto his chest.

  “I see.” Julius filed that tidbit away for future reference. Something about the name Bonner pulled at the strings of his memory, but there wasn’t time to delve into it now. Pulling back on the reins, Julius nudged his horse into the shadows. “Allan entered that building.”

  Sutton dropped to the ground. “We’re in a business district. I don’t think it’s his private rooms.”

  “The man’s supposed to be an attorney. His office, perhaps?” Julius dismounted and tied his reins to a porch rail. “Let’s go find out.”

  The bells of St. Katherine’s tolled, and Max bumped Julius with his shoulder. “What say we get a drink at Simon’s after we question the man? We’re awfully close to the club and it’s a miserable night.”

  Julius grunted. It depended on how the interrogation went whether he would need that drink or not. Otherwise, Amanda would warm him up better than alcohol.

  They pushed through the narrow door and faced a short hallway with one door on either side, a rear exit at the end, and a steep staircase leading to the second floor. Julius checked the doors on the first level. One held a sign reading: Caritas, An Association for Benevolent Aid; the other, Feathered Friends, An Ornithological Society.

  Sutton climbed the stairs, silent for such a large man, while Julius pressed his ear against the bird watchers’ door, listening for any movement.

  The back door creaked open. Allan stood on the threshold, one foot hovering above the ground, eyes rounding in surprise as he caught sight of Julius. He turned tail and ran back into the rain.

  Hollering for Max, Julius raced down the hall and burst out the back door into a small yard where the privy stood. A side gate slammed shut, and Julius ran for it, kicking it open.

  Max pushed out the front door and fell into step beside Julius. They ran down alleys, darted through cross-streets, slowly gaining on their quarry. Allan had the leg length for sprinting, but no stamina.

  The attorney raced across the steps of St. Katherine’s and around its side. Sutton and Julius pounded into the narrow alley and drew up short. Two strange men stood in their path. The door in the side of the church squeaked shut. Julius took a step towards it, and one of the men got in his way. The ruffian wore a cloak with a patch on its right shoulder. Small craters marked his face.

  Julius clenched his fists. So the man who had blackmailed young Audley was also his murderer. He would pay dearly for both crimes tonight.

  “More company,” Max murmured.

  Keeping his back pressed to Max’s, Julius turned his head, saw two more men block off their exit from the alley. The gas lamps from the street made the men’s shadows stretch long against the side of the church.

  Sutton cracked his neck. “Four to two. It could be worse.”

  Julius smiled grimly. It had been worse. Many times. Something glinted in one of the men’s hands, and Julius’s smile dimmed. He shrugged out of his coat.

  “I don’t suppose you gentlemen would care to introduce yourselves?” Julius asked. “No? Unmarked graves for all, then.”

  The man with the knife lunged forward. Julius threw his coat at him, and the man stumbled, batting it away. Grabbing the hand holding the knife, Julius twisted the wrist until the man shrieked and dropped the blade. He sensed movement behind him and tossed the man to the ground before spinning to face the next attack.

  Audley’s killer swung at his head, and Julius ducked. Quick as a snake, he swept the man’s legs out from under him. A desire to toy with the animal, to inflict as much pain as possible, took root in Julius’s mind. But when his opponent picked up the knife of his confederate, Julius’s thoughts focused on survival.

  He jumped back when the man swung the blade in a wide arc. It caught the edge of Julius’s coat. Blood pounded through his body and he steeled himself to wait for the man’s next move.

  Following the same path, the attacker brought his arm back across his body, slicing the blade through the air. And leaving his center exposed. Julius seized his opportunity. He leapt forward and struck the heel of his palm into the man’s throat, watching him crumble to the ground while clawing uselessly at his neck. It didn’t take long for him to suffocate.

  Max sighed. “Did you have to do that? Now we only have three to interrogate.”

  The other men pounced, and Sutton was too busy fighting for further recriminations. Julius blocked a punch, grabbed the man’s wrist and twisted it behind his back. With a yank, the man’s arm popped twice, broken in two places, and he fell to his knees screaming.

  Julius kicked him in the back and moved on to his next victim. Sutton had one man by the throat and was covering his head to deflect the blows from another. Julius grabbed his friend’s attacker from behind and wrapped his arm around his neck. He squeezed.

  The man struggled, arms flailing, making glancing contact with Julius’s head. He clawed at Julius’s arm, his blows growing weaker. The man tapped once, twice, on Julius’s elbow, then sagged in his arms. Julius maintained his grip as he brought the man to the ground.

  After fifteen seconds of zero movement, Julius released him and let the man flop to his back. Julius pushed to his feet and headed for the door Allan had disappeared into.

  Max shook his hand and stepped over the body of the man he’d laid out. “Interrogations usually work better when people are left conscious.”

  Julius jerked his head at the man with the broken arm. He lay curled in a ball, cradling his elbow and moaning. “I left one awake. Besides, who are you to talk?’ Pointing at Max’s victim, he tugged the door open and strode inside. Only to pull up short.

  Max ran into his back and cursed. “It’s blacker than pitch in here.”

  Reaching his hands out, Julius felt the rough stone walls close on either side of him. Too close. Sweat beaded at his temples. He tried to suck down a deep breath, but the air was thick. Heavy.

  He was in a very tight space. He could always tell by the air. But Allan had fled this way. Julius took a step forward, and the temperature climbed a degree.

  Max dropped a meaty hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “I’ll go. You go back and question our attackers.”

  Julius shook his head. It was a useless movement in the dark, but his throat was clogged. He took another step, his legs turning to jelly beneath him. He couldn’t leave this to his friend. It was his task. His suspect.

  “I think there’s a light up ahead.” Max’s breath was hot on the back of his neck, and Julius wanted to elbow him back. But he kept inching forward.

  The ground dropped beneath his searching boot, and Julius swayed. He cleared his throat. “Steps down,” he warned Max.

  “We’re in the catacombs,” Sutton said quietly. “It’s going to get even tighter.”

  Mind swirling, Julius sagged against the stairwell wall. The catacombs. A prison to hundreds of lost souls. He’d never make it.

  Self-loathing ate at his insides. “Go.” He crowded next to the wall, giving Max space to pass. “I’ll go talk to our other friends.” Max’s cloak brushed past him, and Julius’s knees gave out. He sat hard on the stairs. He’d go talk to their friends just as soon as he could take a decent breath. Just as soon as his hands stopped trembling.

  He clawed at his cravat, pulling open the collar of his shirt. He thought he’d moved past these episodes. Overcome his weakness. But he was as pathetic as ever.

  The back of his eyes burned, and he squeezed them tight. His ragged breaths were loud in the stone vault. He concentrated on smoothing t
hem out, forcing the air through his nose in steady exhalations. His heartbeat slowed from its frantic race.

  Well, if he couldn’t move forward, he’d have to go back and see what he could learn from the fuckwits in the alley.

  Digging his fingers into the crevices between the rough blocks in the wall, Julius pulled himself to standing and headed back. He dragged a hand along the stone, relishing the bite to his flesh as much as using the wall as a prop against the dizziness that swamped him. A rectangle a shade lighter than the black tunnel beckoned to him, and he stumbled to the opening.

  He stepped outside and leaned against the church’s wall, chest heaving. Rain pelted his upturned face. He only wished it could wash away his shame.

  He opened his eyes. The alley was empty of bodies. Perfect. He’d even failed at his pity task. Forcing his legs to move, he walked both ends of the narrow lane. But no one jumped out. No clue was conveniently left upon the muddy ground. Shoulders slumped, he stood across from the door and waited for Sutton. If nothing else, at least Audley’s death had been avenged. But that thought was a poor comfort.

  Five minutes later, his friend’s bulky frame appeared in the doorway. Alone.

  “You didn’t find him.” Julius’s voice was flat. It was more statement than question. His weakness had delayed his friend. Obstructed the mission.

  “I found him.” Sutton rubbed his jaw, his fingers getting lost in his beard. He blew out a long breath. “But he won’t be talking.

  “His throat was slit from ear to ear.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “‘A woman as excitable as a child, too afraid to leave her home, yet daring to lecture England on its proper management.’” Amanda snapped the paper she held straighter and angled it towards the light streaming through the window. The response from Lord Hanford had appeared in today’s paper, and Amanda was still fuming. She read more highlights to Lady Mary. “‘While her histrionics might suffice to send ill-informed women into a fit of the vapors, we must not let it sway the rest of society. A woman like Miss Wilcox is not to be encouraged with her nonsense. Should not be listened to. By lending such a woman your support, you do neither England, nor her person, any favors.’”

  Lady Mary stabbed a needle through the pillowtop she worked on. “Hogwash. I can’t believe The Times let him have the entire second page for that. Men.” She shook her head. “They can never speak their minds in one sentence when a lengthy exposition is available.”

  It wasn’t the length of Lord Hanford’s diatribe that bothered Amanda so much as its content, but she appreciated the woman’s indignation on her behalf. With Liz gone, and Julius nowhere to be seen the past two days, any friend was appreciated.

  She rubbed the heel of her hand along her skirts. The personal attack had shocked her, but that wasn’t what had her worried. How had Lord Hanford known she didn’t leave the house? Her movements, or lack thereof, weren’t common knowledge. They had no mutual acquaintances.

  She glanced at the older woman. “My Lady, do you spend much time visiting your friends here in London? Surely your position in this house must be dull, yet you have no guests come to pay a call. Have a cup of tea and chat. It was really most unfair of Marcus to ask you to be my companion.”

  “Why is that, dear?”

  Amanda spread her hands. “Because your charge doesn’t do anything. Go anywhere.” She swallowed. “Because I’m a recluse.” The breath shuddered from her lungs. She’d finally admitted it aloud. Julius and Liz knew it and now so did the rest of London.

  She looked at the paper again. She seemed so pathetic. The woman too frightened of her own shadow to ever step into the sunlight.

  What would the Ladies’ Society think of her now? At least they would understand why she couldn’t publicly debate Lord Hanford.

  “It isn’t as though you are keeping me from a glittering social life,” Lady Mary said dryly. “And you aren’t the only one shunned from polite society.”

  Amanda wrenched her gaze from the newspaper. The normally vapid expression on the older woman’s face had disappeared.

  “Now don’t mistake me. I am in just the position I’d like to be in life, my dear.” Her chaperone tossed the needlepoint onto the settee cushion next to her. “I correspond with the close confidants that I do have, and the subject matter is much more thought-provoking than the typical parlor-room talk. And infinitely more entertaining than gossiping about your comings and goings. No offense intended.”

  Reggie pawed at her knee, and Amanda let him jump into her lap. “No offense taken,” she said faintly. “But how did you know …?”

  “That you were wondering how the marquess knew of your predicament? Based upon the timing of your inquiry into my social life, it was the logical conclusion.”

  Amanda’s cheeks heated. She had shown a boorish lack of interest in the woman’s life, except as it pertained to Amanda’s own concerns. And she was beginning to realize that Marcus’s aunt was infinitely more compelling than the woman let on.

  “Would you like a drink?” Lady Mary asked.

  It seemed like the perfect time for a drink. Amanda reached behind her for the bell pull, but her chaperone waved her down. “Don’t bother the domestics. I can pour a bottle just as well as they.”

  The older woman stood and sauntered to the sideboard. She uncapped a bottle of sherry and poured them each a full glass.

  Amanda didn’t know how to phrase her next question. “Lady Mary, you aren’t quite as …”

  “Addlepated as you’d thought?” She handed Amanda her drink. “I know, dear. And you aren’t as meek as you think, either.” She resettled herself on the settee and took a large swallow of sherry.

  “But why do you act so distracted?”

  “Have you ever wondered why I never married?” Lady Mary patted the settee, and Reggie abandoned Amanda’s lap and raced to the older woman. She pulled something small from her sleeve and fed it to the dog. “It was entirely by choice, I assure you. My father was quite a wealthy earl. His daughters were esteemed commodities.”

  Amanda cocked her head. “Your father didn’t force the issue? Arrange a marriage?”

  “He would have, had I left the matter up to him alone.” Lady Mary pinned Amanda with a look. “To most of society, status is all that matters. I learned very early on that what I thought or cared about was of little account to my father or the suitors he placed before me. Even my sister couldn’t understand my reluctance. Once she’d married Marcus’s father, she tried to throw me together with eligible gentleman. I swear, by the end, my family was hoping I’d be caught in an indelicate situation with a gentleman so we’d be forced to marry.”

  “Then how did you remain unwed?” If an earl had wanted to marry his daughter off, her objections would have been of little account.

  A small smile danced around the older woman’s lips. “A woman’s intelligence might not be a desirable trait to men, but her soundness of mind is. I learned to act in a manner that most gentlemen found unsuitable for the prospective mother of their sons. As my father never truly needed a marital alliance to improve his finances, he didn’t press the matter too greatly. Especially after my sister’s grand success in landing a duke. My father’s reputation could withstand a spinster daughter.”

  “You don’t appear crazy.” Absent-minded and simple, yes. But Amanda had seen men marry much stupider and for much less incentive. “Not so as to scare men off an earl’s daughter.”

  “You didn’t know me when I was of marriageable age.” She scratched Reggie under the chin. “I could put on quite a show,” she cooed to Reggie. “Yes, I could.” She straightened and resumed her normal voice. “I only tell you this because you’ve shown yourself as a woman with a brain in her head. Your letters to the editor are quite astute. And I don’t want you to be too hard on yourself, no matter what Lord Hanford says. We all have our ways of coping, dear. My father, bless his soul, thought all women were good for was to be wives and mothers. I rebelled by bein
g so foolish that no man wanted me. I thumbed my nose at his narrow-minded view of women by remaining happily unwed.”

  Lady Mary took a sip of her sherry. “And, of course, by taking many lovers.”

  Amanda swallowed her sherry down the wrong pipe, and her body went into paroxysms of coughing.

  “Are you all right, dear?” Lady Mary gave her a smile of old, vapid and sweet, and Amanda coughed harder. She nodded and held up a hand, asking for time to recover.

  When her body calmed, she sagged back into her seat. Her new brother-in-law’s choice in chaperone was shockingly subversive. And absolutely marvelous. She wondered how much Marcus knew about his aunt. He was a man who didn’t seem to miss much. But who would suspect the spinster had a hidden life?

  Amanda carefully took another sip of sherry.

  “I haven’t seen your Lord Rothchild for a while.” Lady Mary picked up her needlepoint. “Has he left our company?”

  “No.” Julius wouldn’t leave without telling Amanda. She was nearly certain. “He is kept busy with his duties in Parliament.”

  “Will he champion your cause in the House of Lords?”

  Amanda rolled her glass between her hands. “I don’t know.” Julius was busy with his own cause. He agreed with her stance, and if the reform law came up again, she was sure he would vote yea. But his duty lay in his intelligence work. She chewed on her lower lip. Julius was investigating Lord Hanford. Would he have told the man of her fears? She didn’t want to believe it, but Julius was a determined man. If it would help to insinuate himself with Hanford …

  Her heart squeezed. It shouldn’t matter whether Julius had spoken of her to Hanford or not. They had made no promises. Had made no pledges to the other.

  But it did matter.

  She stood. “I’m going to retire early. I’m not feeling well.”

  Lady Mary blinked. “Before dinner?”

  “I’m not hungry.” And she had a roll and some fruit in her room for a private meal. She paused at the doorway. “Thank you. For sharing your true self with me. I’m glad you trusted me.”