Broken Blue: The Complete Series

by Amy Cross

  As I shut the door, I hear my phone ring again. When I check the screen, I'm shocked to see that it's Mark. For a moment, I actually contemplate not answering. After all, didn't we say everything we had to say to one another? I certainly don't feel like rehashing everything with him again, especially if he's just phoning me to tell me how he doesn't want to talk to me. I can't think of a single reason why I should bother accepting the call, but I press the button anyway.

  "Good afternoon," I say politely.

  "Do you still want to see me?" he asks.

  My heart skips a beat.

  "I've reconsidered," he continues, a hint of urgency in his voice. "Maybe you were right earlier. Partly, anyway. Maybe I should give you a chance to play the game".

  "Well," I reply, my mind racing, "I don't know if you -"

  "Let's not turn this into a debate," he says, interrupting me. He sounds businesslike, almost impersonal. "If you really want to do this, come to the penthouse suite of the Castleton Hotel in Mayfair at seven o'clock this evening. Don't be early, and don't be late. If you don't come, it's over and you'll never hear from me again. If you do come..." He pauses for a moment. "Everything I said earlier still stands, Elly. You have no idea what you're getting yourself into, but I'm going to give you the choice. If you want to come and play the game with me, I'll be waiting".

  "Well, I -" I start to reply, but the line goes dead. I'm left standing in the hallway, stunned by his abrupt tone. I want to call him back and tell him to forget about his stupid game, just so he learns he can't phone me up and summon me in such an arrogant manner. Still, I can't deny that I'm feeling an intense thrill in my chest at the thought of going to meet him. It's already five o'clock, so I'll have to leave soon if I'm going to make it on time. Taking a deep breath, I try to decide whether this is something I really want to do. There's a part of me that thinks it would be a terrible mistake to go to Mark now, and that thinks I'd just be opening myself up to potential heartache. Maybe the smart thing to do would be to back off and forget about Mark. On the other hand, maybe I don't want to do the smart thing. Maybe I want to do the fun thing, and the exciting thing, and the slightly dangerous thing. Above all, I don't want to be boring. I mean, it's not like it's a matter of life and death, so what's the worst that could happen?

  After quickly calling through to my mother to let her know I'm going to meet a friend, I grab my coat and head out through the front door. I walk quickly to the Tube station, and I feel strangely confident. After all, how many other people in London tonight are heading off to the heart of the city to meet a new lover? Whatever Mark's got in store for me tonight, I'm ready.

  Book 5

  The Challenge

  One

  Today

  I shouldn't be here.

  I really, really shouldn't be here.

  As soon as I step through the door of the Castleton Hotel, I feel as if I'm in another world. No, another universe, where the normal rules simply don't apply. Everything about this place reeks of money: the marble floor is immaculately clean and polished, while the foyer itself so calm and formal, it's hard to believe I'm in the heart of London; nearby, two men talk quietly to one another, while briefly glancing over to look at me. It's quite clear that they're wondering why I'm here. There's absolutely no way I could ever pretend to have the level of class or sophistication that this place exudes, and anyone who looks at me will see me for what I am: a girl from the suburbs, hopelessly out of her depth in this cathedral to modern money.

  I really, really, really shouldn't be here.

  "Can I help you?" asks a voice nearby.

  Turning, I find that the doorman is looking over at me.

  "Sorry?" I ask, feeling kind of shell-shocked. It's as if a spotlight has suddenly picked me out, and I can't help but imagine people pointing and laughing.

  "Can I help you, M'am?" the doorman continues, fixing me with his beady little eyes. I guess he saw me standing here, looking like a complete idiot. Maybe he thinks I've stumbled in by accident; maybe he think I'm a cleaner or a maid who accidentally came in via the front door rather than using the employee entrance at the back; maybe he thinks I'm a scam artist, here to pick the pockets of all the rich people as they pass through the foyer; maybe he thinks I'm a low-class prostitute, hired by a rich guy who wants to bag himself a big of rough for a few hours. Whatever he thinks, he clearly recognizes that I don't belong in a place like this. He probably sees me as a piece of dirt on his shoe, ready to be tossed away.

  "I'm just here to meet someone," I say, swallowing hard.

  "Okay," he replies with a smile. "If you go to reception, they'll be able to help". With that, he turns to open the door for a well-dressed man who walks quickly into the building and hurries to the elevators.

  Taking a deep breath, I walk across the marble floor, deliberately avoiding making eye contact with the people at the reception desk. I guess maybe I got a little overwhelmed by the hotel, and I exaggerated how out of place I am here. Still, I feel as if everyone's watching and judging me. Fortunately, Mark told me to just go straight up to the penthouse, so I figure all I need to do is go over to the elevators and get upstairs as fast as possible.

  "Elly?" a female voice calls out. At first I ignore it, assuming that it couldn't possibly have been directed at me, but after a moment I hear footsteps hurrying after me. "Elly?" the voice says again, much closer this time.

  Stopping and turning, I see a woman smiling at me. It takes a moment before I work out where I've seen her before: it's Alice, the woman I bumped into the other day and who ended up taking me to lunch.

  "Hi," I say, totally startled. Alice is the last person I ever expected to see here. I didn't think she was the kind of person who'd be at a place like this, but there she is, standing in front of me wearing a striking red jacket.

  "What are you doing here?" she asks, giving me a big hug. "Oh, what a wonderful coincidence, you walking in here like this! Are you staying at the hotel?"

  "No," I say, my mind spinning as I try to work out what to say. There's no way I can possibly tell her the truth about my plan to meet Mark. I mean, what am I supposed to say? That I'm here for sex with a rich, handsome guy who used to work with my father? A sophisticated woman like Alice couldn't even begin to understand the relationship I have with Mark, and she'd probably write me off as some kind of desperate, obsessive idiot who throws herself at some rich guy just because the opportunity arose. Damn it, maybe she'd be right. "I'm just visiting a friend," I continue, which I guess is kind of true. "He's staying here".

  "Well that's the most amazing thing!" she says, grinning. "I'm just here for a late tea before heading home, and by tea, I of course mean a gin and tonic. I'm going to be absolutely honest with you, Elly, I was starting to regret not getting your number the other day. I really enjoyed our conversation and I was thinking that maybe it'd be fun to see you again. In fact, why don't you let me buy you a drink right now?"

  "Thanks," I say, checking my watch and seeing that I'm due at Mark's door in less than ten minutes, "but I have to get going".

  "Oh, surely you've got time for one drink," she says, grabbing me by the arm and steering me over to the bar. "Perhaps you can call up to your friend and ask him to come down and join us?"

  "Really, no," I say. "Another time, maybe?"

  "Nonsense!" she replies. "We can sit and do some people-watching. Between you and me, there are some mighty unusual types who come into this place. I was rather dreading sitting here and drinking alone".

  "It's fine," I say, "I just have to go up to see my friend".

  She turns to me and smiles. "Oh my God, Elly... Oh my God, I'm being so stupid, aren't I? This man you're meeting... This is something romantic, isn't it?"

  I open my mouth to reply.

  "Don't you even try to deny it!" she continues, wagging her finger in my face like some kind of old-fashioned matron. "What was I thinking, trying to butt in on your private time? I must let you get along to your gentleman
friend. It's not good to leave a man waiting, although sometimes one can benefit from keeping him eager".

  "It's not like that," I say, panicking slightly. "I mean..." I pause for a moment, not sure what to say. I'd never thought of this thing with Mark as being even remotely romantic, but at the same time there seems to be some kind of connection between us and I don't think it's purely physical. I guess the truth is that everything is still totally undefined, and I'm waiting to see what he's planning. Even if I wanted to explain everything to Alice, I don't think I'd have much of a chance; I can't even explain it to myself very well.

  "Such a beautiful dress," she says, stepping back so she can get a better view. "I've always said that a little black dress can secure a man's heart. Young girls these days, they go and buy the most outlandish and garish things, but a little black dress is still the best choice. It's so flattering to the figure, and I find it really accentuates a woman's natural beauty".

  "It was for a funeral," I reply, feeling slightly guilty for wearing the same dress out to this rendezvous with Mark. Damn it, I probably should have changed. Am I being disrespectful?

  "Whatever," she says, "you still look beautiful. Your gentleman friend is a very lucky man, and I hope he appreciates you".

  "I guess," I say, blushing a little. I doubt Mark considers himself to be very lucky right now; in fact, I can't shake the feeling that maybe I'm more of an annoyance to him.

  "Don't worry," she says. "I've been around the block a few times, dear. You like this man, but you don't know where it's going to go, and you don't know how he feels about you. It's nothing to be ashamed of. You don't have to work everything out before you get started. Frankly, I'd love to go back to those carefree days of sniffing around a man and waiting to find out where we stand. It's part of being young. Embrace it, Elly. You deserve to have some fun".

  "Yeah," I say, glancing at my watch again. "I really need to get going. He's pretty keen on people being on time".

  "Well then you mustn't keep the young man waiting," she says, putting an arm around me and steering me toward the elevators. "And remember to live in the moment. Don't stress about the future. Enjoy what happens tonight, and don't worry about tomorrow until the sun comes up. After all, it's not every day a girl gets to spend time in the penthouse suite of one of London's finest hotels, is it?"

  "Thanks," I reply, realizing that maybe she's right. I've been getting so worried about what tonight with Mark might mean, I'm in danger of losing sight of the fun. There's nothing wrong with having pure fun, provided we both understand the terms. "So," I say, smiling, "do you want my number?"

  "Have mine," she says, taking a business card from her purse and handing it to me as we reach the elevators. "Give me a call or an e-mail some time if you've got a moment. I'd love to have a catch-up chat".

  "Sure," I say, though even as I put the business card in my purse, I know that there's no chance I'll ever give her a call. I mean, I like her, but I don't know that we'd have that much in common.

  "Have fun," she says, giving me another hug as the elevator doors open. "And remember, Elly. Don't do anything I wouldn't do". With that, she smiles and walks away, heading back to the bar.

  When I step inside the elevator, I find that there's a guy standing in there wearing some kind of uniform, and it seems to be his job to press the buttons. Suddenly I feel as if I've gone back in time a couple of hundred years. I tell him where I'm going, and then I stand there in silence, feeling awkward as the chamber slowly rises. I find myself going over and over the conversation with Alice. It's as if there's something I'm missing, something that doesn't quite make sense, but I figure maybe I'm just over-analyzing everything. It's a pretty weird coincidence that Alice turned up here, but I guess coincidences happen from time to time. Taking a deep breath, I realize I need to focus on what's about to happen with Mark, because right now I feel as if I'm on the verge of something huge.

  "Penthouse," says the attendant as the bell rings and the door opens.

  "Thanks," I say, stepping out. At the last moment, I turn back to him and I swear I see a look of disdain in his eyes. "What are you looking at?" I ask.

  "Nothing, M'am," he says as the doors close. "Have a nice evening".

  "I'm not a prostitute!" I blurt out, but it's too late and I'm left standing alone in the corridor. Turning to look at the door nearby, I realize that the moment has finally arrived. There's no point putting it off any longer: just a few feet away, Mark Douglas is waiting for me to arrive so he can... I take a deep breath, wondering what he's planning. There's a part of me that wants to just turn around and get out of here, and forget about the whole thing. Why bother putting myself through all this pressure and stress? What exactly am I expecting to get from Mark? It's not like I think we're going to be star-crossed lovers, and I doubt I'll even see him again after tonight, but...

  Suddenly I remember Alice's words, and I realize that yet again I'm in danger of over-thinking the whole thing. Tonight should be a relaxed, fun encounter, and I should just go along for the ride. I mean, what's the worst that could happen As I walk toward the door, I realize that the most likely outcome is that this is going to turn out to be about nothing more than sex. As that thought passes through my mind, I feel a shiver of excitement move through my body. Maybe I'm being a little slutty, but I figure I might as well see if I can have one night of hot sex with a rich, attractive man who doesn't seem to want any kind of emotional attachment. When I reach the door, I force myself to knock on the door immediately, and I wait.

  And wait.

  And wait.

  After a couple of minutes, I start to wonder whether I've been stood up. Is it possible that Mark is playing with me? Is it possible that he just lured me here so he could laugh when I turn up and get turned away? Perhaps he's far away by now, smiling at the pathetic image of me loitering outside his door. Just as I'm about to turn and walk away, I hear movement inside the penthouse and a moment later, the door opens.

  "Hi," I say, feeling my chest tighten. My heart is pounding so fast, it's almost as if it might burst. I'm pretty sure that Mark wouldn't be very impressed if I fainted on his doorstep.

  "Hi," he replies, with a hint of a smile on his lips. "I'm sorry I kept you waiting, Elly. Please come in". He steps back. "I won't bite," he adds. "I promise".

  When I enter the room, I'm immediately overcome by the same feeling I got when I walked into the hotel: I feel like I don't belong here at all. The place has some crazy furniture, and over by one of the walls there's some kind of large golden eagle statue. Still, instead of descending into a full-blown panic, I manage to pull myself together and focus on the positives: I'm in the penthouse apartment of a high-class London hotel, with a handsome and rich man, and I might be about to have sex. As I stare around at the opulence of this place, I realize that I'm more turned on than I've ever been in my life, to the point that I can feel myself getting wet. Finally, all my crazy fears start to dissipate and I realize I can focus exclusively on this precise moment. Who cares about yesterday? Who cares about tomorrow? I turn and look at Mark, and I realize that the only thing that matters is today.

  "So," I say, taking a deep breath, trying not to let him see that I'm terrified. "Now what?"

  Two

  1895

  Pushing my way through the stiff, un-oiled door, I find myself in one of London's noisiest, sweatiest and most notorious public houses. The King's Arms is known across the city as a haven for thugs, lowlifes and monsters. This is the kind of place where thieves and murderers like to mingle, quietly discussing their craft; it's the kind of place where a simple disagreement can lead to an argument that results in dead bodies being piled up outside. The laws of the outside world are rejected here, replaced by a law of savagery. The people in this place have nothing but contempt for the civilized world, and most of them would kill me immediately if they even suspected that I am an officer of Her Majesty's Constabulary. This is simply not a place where the police are welcome, nor is
it a place where any of us would ordinarily wish to venture. However, tonight I have been called here because there is a man who will meet me only on this hallowed ground. I suppose he is testing me. He probably thinks I won't come.

  He's wrong.

  "Mr. Pope," I say as I finally reach a corner booth, where I find Jonathan Pope quietly reading the newspaper. Pope is a delinquent, a man who seems right at home in a place like this. Unfortunately, he's also one of the finest private investigators the world has ever known, and at this present moment he's the only man who shares my concerns about the activities of people such as Edward Lockhart and Lady Henrietta deHavilland. For now, at least, I must work with the man, although I would dearly like to wash my hands of his altogether.

  "You're late," Pope says as I sit down. He keeps his eyes on the newspaper, barely even acknowledging that I've arrived. "I've been shitting myself with anticipation".

  "I got to the door on time," I reply, bristling a little at Pope's tone. I'm far from a prude, but a man like Pope is a little too rough, even for me. "I'm afraid it took me quite some time to fight my way through the crowd. There were some disagreeable types who simply didn't want to let me pass".

  He smiles. "Many a man has died while trying to complete even that modest journey," he says. "You'd probably not have made it either, had I not forewarned my friends here that you would be coming".