Secrets 03 - Shattered Secrets

by Lana Williams

  “I must say, the eye patch is quite dashing,” Weston said with a grin. “Is it quite popular with the ladies in Brazil?”

  Ashbury grinned as well. “Makes you look a bit like a pirate.”

  It took all of Lucas’s will not to reach up to touch the patch. “Necessary, I’m afraid.”

  “You look well.” Weston looked him over from top to bottom. “Did you recover in full from the…accident?”

  Lucas hesitated, debating on how much to say.

  “Can you see them?” Ashbury asked, his green eyes holding intently on Lucas.

  His heart sped its beat as he glanced at Weston, certain Ashbury couldn’t possibly be referring to what he thought he was. “What are you speaking about?”

  “Auras,” Weston supplied, his blue gaze watching Lucas carefully.

  “We can’t see yours, nor can we see each others,” Ashbury added. “Is it the same for you?”

  “Yes.” The word came out in a rush, surprising Lucas. He hadn’t decided if he truly wanted to talk about this. But the idea of them having the same ability he did was a huge relief. “I thought I was the only one.”

  “Unfortunately not.” Weston studied Lucas. “What exactly do you see?”

  Lucas frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I see auras of good and evil,” Ashbury said.

  “And I see auras of success and failure,” Weston added.

  The weight that had lifted from Lucas’s shoulders returned in full force. He turned away, once again wondering how much he should tell these men. While they’d been close friends during their university years, that had been a long time ago. People often changed over time. He certainly had.

  Weston reached out to put his hand on Lucas’s shoulder once again. “We are not here solely for the purpose of renewing our friendship.”

  “Indeed,” Ashbury agreed. “We have much to share with you, most of it unpleasant, I’m afraid.”

  Lucas frowned, not following his meaning.

  “Your brother’s murder was no random robbery.”

  “I thought as much,” Lucas admitted though shocked Ashbury knew that.

  “To work through all we have to discuss, it would be…helpful if we knew what your ability is.” Weston waited.

  “Know that you’re among friends, Berkmond. We hold nothing but the highest regard for you.” At Lucas’s continued silence, Ashbury drew a deep breath. “How bad are the headaches?”

  Some of the weight fell off Lucas’s shoulders once again. “Quite severe at times.”

  “And the despondency? The darkness? Do you have that as well?” Weston asked.

  Lucas gave the barest of nods, wondering if perhaps he wasn’t quite as alone as he feared.

  Ashbury spun away. “My headaches last for days at a time. The despair that accompanies them is overwhelming.” He turned back to look at Weston. “We can’t ask him these questions without being willing to share our own issues.”

  “I couldn’t agree more. My headaches are less significant but my ability is less taxing than Ashbury’s.”

  “How so?” Lucas asked.

  “Ashbury feels compelled to take action when he sees someone with an evil intent. However, that is not always a wise notion.” He gave Ashbury a long look. “Especially when one is in the East End of London on a regular basis.”

  “You’ve become some sort of vigilante?” Lucas asked, appalled at the thought.

  “Yes,” Weston answered at the same time as Ashbury said, “No.”

  The pair glared at each other.

  Lucas allowed himself a small smile. “You two couldn’t agree on anything during our university years. I see little has changed.”

  “We have only recently renewed our acquaintance,” Weston said. “I believe it was in June, was it not?”

  Ashbury nodded. “I would add that the initial altercation you were involved in with me was not entirely my fault.”

  Weston scoffed. “True. Your wife likes to take dangerous risks.”

  “You’re married?” Lucas asked. “How did you manage to do that when you’re occupied stopping evil doers?”

  “I avoid confronting bad intentions when I can,” Ashbury muttered.

  “But when you’re part owner in a gaming hell, it’s difficult to do so,” Weston said.

  “A gaming hell? We apparently have much to discuss. That’s hardly a noble occupation for a lord.” Lucas shook his head.

  “I believe I’ve mentioned that to you a time or two as well,” Weston said with a smirk at Ashbury.

  “We digress,” Ashbury said, a scowl twisting his mouth. “The point is, Weston and I were reunited this past summer when a series of events occurred.”

  “Before we go into all that,” Weston interrupted, “we had better see how our wives fare.”

  Lucas turned to Weston in surprise. “You’re married as well?”

  This time, it was Ashbury who snorted. “Tell him who you married.”

  “I hardly think her identity will matter to Berkmond,” Weston argued.

  “Try me.” Lucas was curious.

  When Weston didn’t immediately answer, Ashbury said it for him. “Emma Grisby.”

  Lucas frowned, trying to place her. “Professor Grisby’s niece?”

  “Yes,” Weston confirmed with a glare at Ashbury.

  “How interesting,” Lucas said.

  “It will be of even greater interest when we tell you the series of events that have led to our arrival on your doorstep.”

  “Tell him,” Ashbury demanded of Weston.

  “We will share the news in due time. Let us first—”

  “Professor Grisby is alive.” Ashbury delivered the news and waited for Lucas’s reaction.

  Lucas could only stare at him then at Weston. “What?”

  Weston sighed. “It’s true. He somehow survived the accident. Unfortunately, it changed him in more ways than we can understand.”

  “But you both told me he was dead. You said he was badly damaged in the accident. Far worse than I was.” Lucas couldn’t help but touch his chest where his scars were, though they were easier to ignore than the loss of his eye.

  “Yes, but we were wrong.” Weston turned to pace the room. “We can only guess that we felt no pulse because his heartbeat slowed substantially. How he survived his injuries is a mystery.”

  “He is revisiting his experiments on electromagnetism. He’s built devices and is using them on people.” Ashbury shook his head. “All this has been very difficult to unravel, let alone believe.”

  Lucas held up his hand. “He always thought they could be used to heal people. If he’s successfully done that—”

  “Quite the opposite, I’m afraid,” Weston said.

  “He’s killing people with the devices. At first it was children, then later he used them on adults.”

  “Are you suggesting he murdered my brother?”

  “Yes, but not with the devices. Or rather, his henchman, Vincent Simmons, was the actual murderer.”

  “We believe the professor ordered Simmons to murder your brother in an effort to force you to return to England,” Ashbury said.

  Lucas was stunned. “That makes no sense. What purpose would be served by doing so?”

  Ashbury moved to stand directly before Lucas. “May I ask again, what type of auras you see?”

  Lucas hesitated only a moment. If these two were telling the truth, and he had no reason to doubt them despite the madness of their news, it was the least he could do. “Life and death.”

  Ashbury drew back as Weston stopped his pacing to stare.

  “Life and death,” Weston repeated as he strode closer. “Good God.”

  “Unbelievable,” Ashbury said.

  Regret filled Lucas. Perhaps telling them had been a terrible mistake.

  “I thought my ability was unbearable,” Ashbury murmured.

  “No wonder you left,” Weston said.

  Rather than looking appalled, both men seemed m
ore empathetic than Lucas could’ve imagined.

  “To see your parents, even your brother, with some dark aura hanging over them and know their death is impending.” Ashbury shook his head. “Truly unbearable.”

  “Quite.”

  “Even seeing that on a stranger would be difficult,” Weston offered.

  “That is certainly how it is for me,” Ashbury said. “When I know that person intends some sort of harm to another, I can’t simply stand by.”

  “You’re saying your actions make a difference?” Lucas asked.

  “Sometimes. Not always. I have no idea what type of action they will take. It’s difficult to prevent what you don’t know.”

  “Yes.” That much Lucas could relate to. “I tried a few times to warn the person of what was coming.”

  Ashbury scoffed. “I bet that went well.”

  “Even with my, shall we say, more bearable ability, warning people not to move forward with their plans does little good.” Weston sighed. “They suspect my motives.”

  A bit more of the weight on Lucas’s shoulders lifted. They did not think him mad. “I have found there is little I can do.”

  “Not without trying to explain your ability. Which is impossible.” Ashbury shook his head. “I can only imagine.”

  “Is it any death you see?” Weston held up his hand. “I can understand if you don’t wish to talk about the details. This isn’t easy for any of us.”

  “But it could help,” Ashbury added. “The more information we have, the better our plan will be.”

  “A plan to do what?” Lucas asked warily.

  “To stop Professor Grisby. That’s why we’re here. We need your help.”

  *

  Moira entered the drawing room, having been told by a footman that visitors had arrived.

  The two women awaiting her were beautiful and fashionably dressed. Moira couldn’t help but run a hand down the simple yellow muslin morning dress she wore. This was not conventional visiting hours.

  “Good day.” At least she could offer her manners.

  “Hello there,” the dark-haired woman rose, her blue eyes wide with interest. “We’re sorry to arrive so unexpectedly.”

  Moira smiled cautiously. She still didn’t understand who these women were or why they were here.

  “I’m Lady Weston.” The other woman rose as well to greet her. Her large brown eyes were kind, her dark hair drawn back into an elegant chignon. Both ladies seemed to be about Moira’s age.

  “I’m Lady Ashbury. Our husbands are old friends of Lord Berkmond. From their university days.”

  “I see.” Though Moira didn’t exactly.

  “They wanted a few minutes to speak with him privately.”

  Moira nodded politely. She knew she should introduce herself but couldn’t quite bring herself to state that she was Lady Berkmond.

  “You traveled from London?” she asked. That seemed a safe enough subject.

  “Yes. We stayed at an inn along the road last night, which is why we’re here so early this morning.” Lady Ashbury seemed as uncertain how to act as Moira.

  Lady Weston was a bit more reserved. “The manor is lovely. The grounds are beautiful.”

  “Yes, aren’t they? Lord Berkmond’s mother enjoyed growing roses.” Moira knew she was babbling but didn’t know what else to do.

  “Do you as well?” Lady Weston asked.

  “My interests lay more in herbal gardens than flower gardens.”

  “For kitchen uses or healing?” Lady Ashbury asked. Her interest seemed quite genuine.

  “Healing.”

  “Fascinating. How did you come upon such knowledge?”

  Lady Weston touched Moira’s hand briefly. “Do have a care or else she’ll be asking if you’d be willing to write a book on the topic.”

  Lady Ashbury smiled. “I have an interest in a small publishing company. Our nonfiction and how-to books are quite popular.”

  Moira was intrigued. She’d never met a woman involved in the ownership of any sort of business.

  “Emma is one of our bestselling authors. She’s writing a series of books to instruct governesses.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful. I’m not certain if you know of Lord Berkmond’s nieces?” Both ladies nodded. “The governesses they’ve had could’ve used some advice.”

  The two women shared a look then Lady Weston smiled shyly. “I spent several years serving as a governess. Perhaps if time permits, I could meet the girls.”

  “They would be thrilled.”

  “I’m sorry if I sound rude, but are you Lady Berkmond?” Lady Ashbury asked.

  “Yes,” Moira said as heat filled her cheeks. “I’m the one who seems to have forgotten my manners. We were only married yesterday and—”

  “Oh! Say no more.” Lady Weston rose to sit beside Moira on the settee. “I was married just last month. And Abigail, or rather, Lady Ashbury, the month prior to that.”

  “Please, call me Abigail.”

  “I’m Emma.”

  “I’m Moira.” Relief filled her to have found something in common with the ladies.

  “Married yesterday! That is so exciting. May we offer our congratulations?” Abigail came to sit on the other side of Moira.

  “Thank you. It happened rather quickly.” At Abigail’s raised brow, Moira added, “We decided to marry a week ago.”

  “That is quick,” Emma said.

  “I’m pleased to hear Lord Berkmond will be remaining in England. Michael thought he might be returning to Brazil soon.”

  A wave of hurt filled Moira at her words. She hoped she masked it from her expression. “I believe he will still do so. He has several things to take care of here first.”

  Emma stared at her with a look of dismay. “Only him? What about you and the girls?”

  “We will remain here.” Moira raised her chin, hoping neither woman felt sorry for her. She was already feeling sorry enough for herself.

  “I see.” Abigail shared a look with Emma before turning back to Moira. “No, actually I don’t. If you’ve only just married, why would he return to Brazil?”

  “Return to Brazil?” A stranger’s voice asked from the doorway. “Berkmond, is that true?”

  The two men who entered the drawing room with Lucas were both dark haired and handsome. One had blue eyes and black hair, the other green eyes with dark brown hair. The three men together were an impressive sight.

  “My plans have not yet been set, but yes, I’ll be returning to Brazil.” Lucas held Moira’s gaze for a brief moment but she couldn’t tell what he might be thinking.

  Moira looked away, the pain pouring through her bringing tears to her eyes. She hadn’t realized she held any hope that their wedding night had changed his plans. But apparently she had. She blinked quickly to rid the tears from her eyes. She had no desire to embarrass herself in front of their guests. She didn’t want their pity. She had known what she was getting into when she’d married Lucas. How silly of her to hope otherwise. She needed to be more careful.

  Much to her surprise, the ladies on either side of her shifted closer. Neither seemed particularly pleased with Lucas’s statement based on their scowls.

  “Why on earth would you leave this lovely woman to return to the jungles of Brazil?” The blue-eyed lord crossed to her to take her hand, a charming smile on his face.

  Moira rose to curtsy, her hand still in his. He didn’t show any sign of releasing her.

  “This is my wife.” Lucas’s voice held an edge to it.

  The man turned to Lucas and raised a brow. “Back in England a few weeks and already married? My, but you work quickly.”

  Lucas scowled in response.

  The green-eyed lord stepped forward with a shake of his head. “Forgive my friends for their terrible manners.” He took her hand from the other man’s and bowed. “I am Lord Ashbury. This is Lord Weston. We are old friends of Berkmond’s.”

  “Lovely to meet you all of you.” Moira glanced toward the
women who now stood as well.

  When Lord Ashbury raised a brow at Lucas, her husband stepped forward to greet both women.

  “It’s been some time since we last saw each other,” Lucas said to Emma.

  “Indeed it has. I don’t believe you attended my uncle’s funeral.”

  “No, I was recovering from rather severe injuries.” The bite in Lucas’s tone surprised Moira.

  “Emma was unaware of her uncle’s deception.” Weston took his wife’s hand in his. “Nor was any of it her fault.”

  Lucas said nothing but watched the lady for a moment. At last he said, “It appears as though he deceived us all.”

  Moira had no idea of what they were speaking, but she could sense the tension in the air. She decided against asking as she didn’t want to fan the flames of whatever disagreement seemed to be sparking.

  “Moira must be quite confused by the conversation,” Abigail said with a smile. “Perhaps we could share the details of all that has occurred with her as well.”

  “Excellent idea,” Ashbury said. “It would be best if all of us are aware of recent events.”

  “I’m most anxious to hear it,” Moira said.

  However, Lucas looked as if he would rather she didn’t hear any of it.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Lucas’s mind reeled as Weston and Ashbury shared the events of the past few months while they settled in the dining room for luncheon. Both wives added to the conversation at times, their perspectives giving additional details.

  He could see how desperate Lady Ashbury, or rather, Abigail, as she’d requested he call her, had been to discover if Vincent Simmons had truly escaped hanging for her father’s murder. No wonder she had followed him to the East End despite the danger. To think she’d shot Ashbury by accident— The look of annoyance on Ashbury’s face had been priceless. Abigail still insisted it wasn’t completely her fault. She was obviously a lady who knew her own mind.

  Lucas found it interesting how fate had thrown the pair of them together when they needed each other most. They’d faced many difficulties, including when Abigail’s younger sisters, also twins, had been taken by Simmons. That entire night could’ve easily ended in tragedy. But Ashbury and Abigail had made it through the challenges together and found love.