“I do not mean to interrupt your work, madam. I am Elizabeth Smyth.” She held out her hand.
The witch gave her a long look before taking her hand. “Abigail Higginbotham, it is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Smyth.”
“Please, call me Elizabeth or Lizzy.”
“Can you tell me what happened here?”
“Our house guest was murdered.”
“Our? Are you a resident of Mr. Foxjohn’s house?”
Her stomach twisted. Why had she said that? “I hardly know the answer myself.”
Abigail shrugged. “It does not signify. Perhaps you can tell me what happened this morning and the rest will fall into place. Such things usually do.”
“Do they?’
She nodded and gave her a reassuring smile. “In my experience.”
Having doubt was familiar, and stuffing those doubts down to a manageable place a normal practice for Elizabeth. She told the witch everything that happened from the time the wind blew through her bedroom window.
If anything shocked her companion, she showed no sign. She listened patiently and studied the grounds. She drew some symbols in the dirt. “You say you did not experience the discomfort you had on previous meetings with the demon master?”
“No. I had no foreknowledge the master was on the grounds. Do you think it means any connection has been severed?”
“I cannot say. It means you are not the same woman who the demons captured for their sacrifice. What constitutes a change, I do not know.”
“Could it be that I am no longer pure?”
Abigail cocked her head and raised her eyebrows. “I doubt such a thing would make a difference to the demons. You have to admit you have changed a great deal more than that. You’ve gone from a scullery maid to a demon hunter.”
“Yes, but I was a hunter when the first headache hit.”
“It could be the culmination of all the changes. We do not alter overnight. We do it by bits and pieces.”
“I suppose that is true.”
“I’m going to get started with my protection spells.”
“Very nice to meet you, Abigail.”
“Be careful, Lizzy. The danger has not passed for you. This demon master does not like losing.” She turned and muttered words in a language Elizabeth had never heard before. From her pouch, she poured some white grains along the path.
Abigail walked out of sight, still muttering her charms.
Elizabeth calmed her breathing before she walked back inside the house.
* * * *
“Tell me why you dislike Lilly so much.” His question came just as she dozed in his arms.
An afternoon nap is what she needed, not more questions. “I do not dislike her.”
“Please do not lie to me.” He whispered behind her ear, and his breath sent chills through her. If she turned around and seduced him, he might forget his question.
She hadn’t lied, but admittedly, it leaned toward a cowardly response. She sighed and snuggled back against him. The sun warmed her face through the open window, and she closed her eyes, too tired for conversation or anything more. “I suppose it is her way of judging everything as inferior that sets my teeth. I do not dislike her so much as I resent her assuming we do not know what we are doing.”
He kissed her shoulder. “It’s just her manner. She thinks very highly of you. If she did not, she would pay you no mind. Her arguing and fussing means she cares.”
“I’m more accustomed to people being straight forward. I like to know what someone is thinking. When I do not care for a person, there is no question about it.”
“Do not judge her too harshly. She has been through a lot, and it has made her very mistrusting of people.”
His arms tightened, and she snuggled against his warm chest. “For your sake, I will try.”
“Thank you.”
Every inch of him distracted her from the rest she needed. “We would have slept better if you had gone to your own bed.”
“I never want to sleep without you as I cannot bear the thought you might be pulled away while I rest. It would be the end of us both. Besides, it’s only a nap. We have work to do today.”
One of those blasted vortexes might suck her away at any moment and no one would even know. A few months ago, no one would have even cared what happened to poor little Lizzy Smyth. At least now, one person did care. He cared enough that he refused to let her out of his sight. The security of his arms around her lulled her until sleep took her.
* * * *
They arrived at the last known address of Mr. Sweeney in a rather dodgy area. Elizabeth had grown up a few blocks from there. No amount of education had made her forget the filthy streets or run down houses. The people all looked tired and stared at the well-dressed couple with a wary eye. She stayed at the bottom of the steps, ready to grab her sword from under her skirts if needed.
Reece climbed the three steps and knocked on the bruised and battered door. His knock turned to pounding, but no one answered. He joined her and shrugged. “I suppose we’ve come to another impasse.”
“He left just after his woman killed herself.” A toothless man sat on the next stoop, wrapped in a blanket in spite of the warm day. His cheeks were sunken and his eyes bulged. He had three hairs on his pasty white head.
“Are you a friend of Mr. Sweeney’s, sir?” Reece spoke to him as he spoke to everyone. He treated everyone the same with no regard for their rank or income.
“I knew ’im. Went to live with his brother in the country, I ’eard.”
“When was that, if you don’t mind?”
He cocked his head and winced. His pale eyes narrowed. “Month or so ago. Just after they found the missus in the alley. Did ’erself in with a knife to the gut. Nasty business.”
“Indeed. Can you recall where Mr. Sweeney’s brother lived, my good man?”
“Only know ’e’s a farmer somewheres outside of London.”
Reece dug into his pocket and produced a coin, which he handed to the man. “It might be good to find something to eat, my friend. I would hate to see anything happen to you.”
He looked at the shiny coin in his palm. “I might just do that, gov. Too bad about Sweeney. Nice fella.”
Reece nodded and took Elizabeth’s elbow, leading her back to the carriage.
“Now what do we do? Mr. Sweeney’s brother could be anywhere. There are hundreds of small farms within a day’s ride of London.”
“Do not lose hope. I’ll send out some inquiries and hire a runner from Bow Street. We will find him.”
“A few weeks ago you didn’t even believe you could hunt again. When did you become such an optimist?” She slumped back into the carriage seat.
“Things are looking up for my recovery. Besides, it does no good to dwell on the negative. One thing does trouble me, though.”
“What?”
“I highly doubt poor Karen could have stabbed herself in the stomach. That is a difficult thing to accomplish. If she’d cut her wrists, I would have no problem believing she had committed suicide. To plunge a blade into one’s belly is not typical, and how would she know where to strike to cause a swift death?”
“I had not thought of that. Then you think she was murdered.”
“That is what we must discover, Lizzy. It would not hurt to know why the master needs to follow through with his earlier sacrificial plans.”
A familiar shiver ran up her spine. Most of the time she detached herself from the other victims and from the failed sacrifice, but once in a while it became all too clear she too remained on the master’s list of messy bits to sweep up. Their next destination lurked in her mind as a very clear reminder, and the damp day added to her worry.
They stopped and made some burial arrangements for Connie before heading home. She would be buried in a local cemetery the next day.
* * * *
Of course, Elizabeth and Reece attended, but it su
rprised her to see the Earl of Shafton and his wife standing in the drizzle while an impoverished prostitute was laid to rest. All the servants from Reece’s townhouse were there as well. When she’d asked him if he’d directed his staff to attend, he’d said he had not. Garvey had requested on behalf of the staff that most of them be allowed time off to be at the funeral. Everyone at the townhouse liked Connie a great deal. Only a small staff remained to look after Tally, too weak to stand in the rain.
Reece hired a clergyman who conducted a short, sweet ceremony.
Only the two of them stayed until the diggers covered her completely.
Elizabeth took his hand. “That could easily be me. I’m not ashamed to say it. Ending up lured in by the demons terrifies me.”
“I will not let that happen.”
“You may not have any control.”
“Then I will find you. We found you once. We could do it again if need be.”
He hoped against hope, and she didn’t have the heart to keep knocking him down. Besides, there was no sense in dwelling on what might happen. “Let’s go home. We still have time to train today.”
He dropped her hand and guided her ahead of him. Even without the touch, his warmth spread through her.
At the house, they changed clothes and went to the ballroom for training. This would be their routine as weeks passed without information about the whereabouts of Mr. Sweeney. They checked a few leads from the Bow Street Runner, but to no avail. They met with Shafton several times a week, and they trained hard every day.
Their houseguest kept to herself but looked much stronger with regular meals and accompanied walks in the garden. The staff hovered in excessive protectiveness of young Tally. Of her own accord, she worked in the kitchens assisting the cook.
Lizzy struggled to keep her mind on fencing and not let it wander to a dozen other problems they faced. The effort proved impossible.
Reece stepped forward and missed a point as his dulled blade came inches from her chest protector.
She blocked the point and skirted out of the way. Distraction could be deadly in the real world and the ballroom where they honed their physical and mental strength.
He rushed her again, and she met his steel with several swift parries. She found her rhythm, striking often and backing him up.
“You know, my dear, you have still not responded to my marriage proposal.” He parried.
Losing a step from his unexpected mention of marriage cost her. His sword made contact with her padded abdomen. She stepped back and he countered until he backed her up against the wall with nowhere to go. He spun his sword tip around hers, she lost her grasp, and the steel clattered to the floor.
“I did not realize there was a time limit for my response.” The words came out on heavy breaths.
With a toss of his own weapon, he tore off his face protector and pressed against her. “No limit, my love. There is only my anxiousness for you to become my wife.”
She too removed her face guard. “Why? You enjoy all the privileges of a marriage. Why should you want to change anything? Have the last few weeks not been pleasant?”
Her words had the desired effect. He backed away. “It hurts me that you think my only investment in what is between us is in the bedroom.”
“What more do you want? We spend every moment of every day together.”
“And that is not to your liking?”
“I did not say that.” It remained the best few weeks of her life, but all good things must come to an end.
“What is it you want, Lizzy?”
“Why do you want to marry me?”
He pressed forward until he trapped her between his chest and the wall. Of course, she could have escaped, but delight kept her trapped, at least for the moment. “I am hopelessly in love with you. I believe I stated that fact long ago but perhaps not as often as possible. I cannot imagine a life where you are not at my side.”
His words propelled a pleasant tremor from her head to her toes. Yet the notion of marrying a man so far above her station sent her stomach into fits. There was no good answer. Pushing as hard as she could, she destabilized him, and he fought to keep his feet.
She ran around him and took up a fighting stance several feet away.
“Are you avoiding the conversation now, Lizzy?”
“It is a topic that has no good resolution.”
“You could marry me. That would be a good ending.”
She ran forward.
He lowered his stance and readied to take her on hand-to-hand.
At the last moment, she fell to the floor and slid through his legs. Once behind him, she swung around, clutched one of his legs between both of hers, and toppled him to the hard floor. His sword lay within arm’s reach. Grabbing the hilt, she straddled his hips and held the dulled point to his throat. A thrill buzzed through her.
He smiled in spite of losing the bout.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” A man of middle years stood in the open doorway.
Elizabeth looked from the newcomer to Reece.
Reece’s face turned red, and his brows drew together, forming a deep crease above his nose. He returned his gaze to her. “My father.”
She stood up and offered him a hand up.
Declining her assistance, he stood up on his own. “Hello, Father. What on earth are you doing in town?”
The older Foxjohn scanned the room. “We came to see how you were recovering.”
“You came to see me?”
“Do not sound so surprised. You are our only heir. We were concerned. I see you have recovered most of your strength.” He ran his hand along the weapons rack as he walked around the room.
“And my mother is with you?” His posture stiffened so he didn’t look like himself. Where was the relaxed man she knew?
“She is waiting in the front parlor and has ordered tea.”
Reece shook his head. “Father, this is Elizabeth Smyth.”
He glanced in her general direction but did not make eye contact nor did he bow or extend his hand. “You are the young woman who arranged all of this. The transformation of the ballroom is remarkable.”
She didn’t know what possible answer would be appropriate. “Yes, sir.”
The elder Foxjohn continued his perusal of the training room while Reece’s neck turned bright red. “This facility has enabled me to regain my strength with Elizabeth’s help. Though there is still much to be done.”
“Yes. I saw. The woman bested you.”
“Elizabeth is a formidable opponent.”
His accolade met with only a grunt. He passed the boxing ring. “You actually box with a woman, Reece? It is irrelevant. I assume you would like to change before seeing your mother.”
The fire usually present in Reece’s eyes had gone out. He pulled his shoulders back. “We will get cleaned up and meet you in the parlor for tea.”
She preceded him out of the room and ran up the steps. She made a dash for her own room, but as they passed Reece’s bedroom, he grabbed her arm and pulled her inside.
“What are you doing?”
“Their being here changes nothing, Lizzy.” He was bright red from his forehead to where his blouse covered his throat. Stiff posture and thinned lips, she hardly recognized him.
“What do you mean?”
“I want you to tell me you will become my wife. I will not allow my father or mother to destroy what we have built here.”
“You saw the way he looked at me, Reece. That is the way he will always look at me. I cannot agree to anything. Not now.” Her chest ached, and she pressed her palm between her breasts.
He took hold of her upper arms, and his eyes were as fathomless as the loch at Inverness. They broke her heart. “Do not let them ruin us, Lizzy. I have not spoken to my parents in years. They are only here out of some strange sense of duty. They will never be a part of our lives.”
“What will you
do when your father looks at our children the way he just looked at me? How will you see me after years of the people you respect treating me like a servant? And they will not be wrong, Reece. I am not good enough for you. You need to find a wife who will be a credit to you.” She pulled out of his arm before he could see the tears welling in her eyes.
“Do not walk away from me, my love.” His words rang with despair.
Leaving was the wise thing to do. She turned back.
“I left my father’s house because of the same prejudice you are expressing. I love you. I love you more than I can say, but you must learn your own worth. The people who work in this house, the two people waiting in the parlor, you and I, we are limited only by our own minds. Within The Company, you and I are equal. Why should it not be that way in the rest of the world?”
“Because that is not the way society works, Reece.” The first tear trailed down her cheek.
“I do not care what my parents think of you or me for that matter. However, I do care what you think of yourself. Perhaps you are right. It may be too soon for you to give me an answer about marriage.”
She couldn’t breathe. “You are withdrawing your proposal?”
He ran his fingers down the side of her face and cupped her chin before pressing his lips to hers. “No. My offer stands. I want you and no other for the rest of my life. But I want you to come to me as an equal, a partner in life and in hunting. It is clear you are not ready for that. I shall endeavor to change your opinion.”
The pain in her chest only increased with every sweet declaration. He wanted the impossible, and she longed to give it to him. “I’m going to get cleaned up.”
“Will you join me in the parlor?”
“If you wish it.”
He kissed her cheek. “I do wish it, Lizzy.”
“Even though it will make your visit with your parents uncomfortable?”
“That is inevitable no matter who else is in attendance.”
“Then I will meet you down there.” She rushed from the room before more tears forced their way out and she embarrassed herself further.
Mrs. Louise Foxjohn waited alone in the parlor. Reece and she had not used the room since coming to London. Just like the woman, the room was orderly and uncomfortable. She wore a very stylish travel dress, and a flowered hat rested on a small table next to her chair. She folded her hands in her lap, and only the slightest smile flickered on her lips at the sight of her son.
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