Hartley cursed long and viciously when the man bolted just as he was within a hairsbreadth of grabbing him. He started to follow, but the sight of Alethea sprawled on the ground halted his pursuit. She looked like a broken doll. He could not leave her like that.
A sharp whistle brought Aldus into view, and Hartley sent him off after the man. When Gifford and Iago arrived a heartbeat later, he sent Gifford after the man as well. Iago moved toward him as Hartley knelt by Alethea’s side. He slipped an arm beneath her to gently lift her upper body off the ground, careful to fully support her head even as Iago reached his side.
“I do not think they will be able to catch him,” Iago said as he dampened a handkerchief in the fountain, crouched at Alethea’s other side, and began to tenderly wipe the dirt and blood from her face. “Why would anyone beat her?” He looked her over carefully. “Obviously not because she said no to his advances. Her gown shows no sign of that sort of attack.”
“This was a warning,” said Hartley. “I heard him say so. It was a warning to stay away from me.” And the guilt that roused in him nearly choked him.
“Are you saying Claudette had this done to Alethea?”
“I did not hear the man say Claudette’s name, but he did say she. From almost the moment you said Alethea was missing I began to fear it, even though I could not understand the why of it all.”
“The why? The why is because you have kissed Alethea, and you have been sniffing around her skirts.”
Hartley wanted to respond angrily but knew the man had a right to accuse him. “First, there is no way on earth Claudette could know that I kissed Alethea, for that was done inside your home. Unless your servants—”
“Never.”
“Then there are only three of us who know of that kiss. I wondered if it was because we came to your home several times, as I said, but I only came there alone once, so that does not make much sense. Yet, this is Claudette’s doing. I am certain of that. I must have given Claudette some reason, in some way, to think that Alethea was a threat to her making me her lover.”
“Wait—I thought you were seducing her.”
“I allowed her to think that is what I thought.”
Iago sighed and rinsed out his handkerchief in the fountain before returning to the work of cleaning Alethea’s badly abraded face. “I should have considered that possibility. Claudette must have caught sight of the way you look at Alethea.”
“What are you talking about? I was most careful.”
“Not careful enough. Your wanting is clear to see in your eyes, and it takes no special gift to see it. Cold face, hot eyes. Each time your gaze rests upon my niece, I fight the urge to call you out. ’Tis that hot, that carnal. Claudette must have seen it, too.”
Hartley was not about to waste time arguing that, for he suspected he might have looked at Alethea with wanting in his gaze. He certainly suffered from that wanting far too much and too often. “Why the devil did Alethea have no warning of this? No vision telling her of the danger she was about to face? Something to tell her not to walk into the garden alone.”
“I cannot say for certain, but it appears that a seer cannot foresee her own future. Many of the ones in our family who have the same gift complain of that limitation. ’Tis most rare for one of them to foresee anything in their own future, good or bad, and often they cannot even see the futures of the ones closest to their hearts. It is an unwritten rule within the family not to allow all the seers to become too close to each other.”
“So then at least one might foresee the danger to another one or those close to that other seer?” When Iago nodded in response, Hartley had to ask, “Does that work?”
“More or less. I believe she is waking up now.” Iago sat back on his heels as Alethea’s eyes fluttered open.
Alethea saw two shadowy figures leaning over her, one holding her in his arms, and tensed in fear. It took the clearing of her vision, recognizing the men at her side, to smother her rising panic. The moment her fear receded, pain swept over her, and she groaned. She placed a hand over her right side and wondered why she felt pain there. Her last clear memory was that of the man’s fist swinging toward her head.
“My side hurts,” she murmured and looked from Iago up at Hartley. “Why does my side hurt? He hit me in the face.”
“He also kicked you when you were down,” Hartley replied.
The urge to cry was so strong Alethea had to swallow hard, twice, to conquer it. She did not wish to appear weak before the two worried men leaning over her, even if she did hurt everywhere. The presence of Hartley and Iago took away her fear for the moment, and she tried to find some strength in that.
“He said he was giving me a warning.” It hurt to talk, but Alethea suspected it would hurt even more so very soon. There was so much pain in her face; she suspected her attacker had hit her again even as she was sinking into unconsciousness from the first blow. She was sure it was already swelling and had the brief, vain thought that she must look terrible.
“I know. I heard him. I was trying to slip up behind him, as I was not sure if he had a weapon.”
“Just his fists.” She started to sit up on her own, fighting the inclination to stay in Hartley’s arms, and gasped aloud at the pain that shot through her side. “I am going to look like a walking mass of bruises tomorrow,” she said when she finally caught her breath.
She could tell by the looks on their faces, fleeting though the expressions were, that they thought she looked that way now. Before she could say anything, Aldus and Gifford ran up to them. The way those two men winced when they looked at her made Alethea feel like crying all over again. She hoped Kate had some wondrous salve that would help lessen her bruises and the swelling she knew had already begun by the increasing tightness of the skin on her face.
“The man got away,” said Gifford. “We did not even get a good look at his face, either.”
“I did,” Alethea said. “I can draw you a picture. I just do not understand why he did this to me.” She had a very good idea of who ordered it done, but the why of it was puzzling. How could a woman like Claudette see her as any sort of threat?
“We can discuss that later,” Hartley said as he settled her more firmly in his arms and stood up.
“I can walk,” she protested despite the fact that she wanted to stay right where she was.
“Not after two blows to the head and a kick in the ribs.” Hartley looked at Iago. “Can you bring your carriage around to the street side of the garden wall? There is a gate there. I can bring Alethea out that way.”
“It may take me a few moments, as I have to go through the ballroom and may be momentarily detained here and there,” said Iago as he stood up and brushed off his clothes. “I will tell whoever I meet that I must leave because Alethea has fallen ill. That will explain her sudden disappearance, her slipping away unseen, and the fact that she will not be seen until her bruises fade.”
Aldus watched Iago leave and then looked at Hartley. “I will devise some emergency to explain your sudden disappearance as well. Mayhap Gifford should go with you so that what I say carries some weight and will not have people wondering why you and Alethea disappeared at the same time. I will also offer to take Claudette home and then meet you at the Vaughns as soon as possible.” He looked at Alethea. “I think the woman begins to believe herself untouchable. This is her work, is it not?”
“I have no proof of that, but, yes, I think it is,” replied Hartley. “We can talk about it later. Alethea needs to get home, and a doctor needs to be summoned.”
“No doctor,” Alethea protested. “Kate can tend to me.”
Aldus just grinned and left. Gifford fell into step beside Hartley as he started to make his way through the gardens to the gate where he was to meet Iago. The guilt Hartley suffered for what had happened to Alethea was a heavy weight upon his heart. She had been drawn into this trouble because she had wanted to save his life. She stayed because she wished to help him find his sister’s c
hildren. Yet because he could not control his growing desire for her, even in the way he looked at her, she was now hurt and in danger.
“It is not your fault, Hartley,” Alethea said quietly.
“And whose fault is it? Is it not because of me that you are here at all?”
“No one but the five of us knows that. As far as the world and its mother is concerned, I am but visiting my uncle. I doubt anyone thinks I know anything about spies and intrigue and all of that. I am only a simple country widow. If Claudette had this done to me, it was the act of a vain, spiteful woman. How she got the idea that I was a threat to the success of her seduction of you, I do not know.”
“Oh, I have an idea or two about that,” said Gifford, but he quickly pressed his lips together when Hartley glared at him.
Alethea laughed and immediately regretted it. Her laugh turned into a groan as pain tore through her body. She was not sure which hurt the worst, her side or her head, but she was certain she would be doing her best not to laugh for a while. It was evident that Hartley blamed himself for what had happened to her, but the pain clouding her thoughts made it difficult for her to form any reasonable argument against that. It, too, would have to wait until later.
The move into the carriage was an agony she hoped to never have to endure again. Alethea knew Hartley and Iago were doing their best to move her gently, but the pain became a continuous ripple beneath her skin. She had only a moment to recover after she was settled on the carriage seat with her head in Hartley’s lap, and then the carriage began to move. Alethea gave up her fight to remain conscious.
“She has swooned,” said Hartley.
“Best thing for her,” said Iago. “I do not think any ribs are broken, for she is breathing well, but they are certainly badly bruised. Until her ribs are wrapped and the pain from the blows to her head eases, she will have to lie still.” He watched as Hartley did his best to keep her steady in his hold as the carriage rolled along. “I am not a violent man, but I dearly wish I could get my hands on the bastard who did this to her. I think I could kill him and never lose a night’s sleep over it.”
“Wait to kill him until we get the name of the one who ordered him to do this,” said Hartley.
“We know who did this.”
“We need a name. Never forget that Claudette has some power and a lot of allies with power. As you yourself noted, she has been very selective in her lovers, and, if only to protect themselves, those men could be called upon to help her against such an allegation.”
“Fools. The whole lot of them. And the ones who gave her the information she needed to kill those men of yours are as guilty of murder as she is.”
Hartley could only agree. Although Claudette had not done the actually killing of anyone, as far as he knew, she was a killer. She tossed people’s lives aside as if they were worth nothing, only her needs and wants of any concern to her. The men who had allowed passion to blind them to what she was and let slip some of the country’s secrets were almost as guilty as she was. They should have known better, should have thought of the dire consequences of even one weak moment.
Before he could say anything, the carriage stopped before the Vaughns’ home. “We need to send someone for a doctor,” Hartley said as he helped get a still-unconscious Alethea out of the carriage.
“No need,” said Iago. “Kate will see to her.”
“Kate is no doctor.”
“She may be common born, uneducated in the finer schools, and all of that, but she can fix near any injury and cure most illnesses. If she cannot, she is the first to call for a surgeon. I do not believe Alethea’s injuries require a surgeon, however. And, if Kate sees to her, the less chance there is of any of this becoming fodder for the gossips.”
Hartley’s chance to argue that opinion was stolen away the moment Iago’s butler opened the door for them. Chaos ensued as Alfred and Kate came running at his call of alarm. Although he was allowed to carry Alethea to her room, Hartley was quickly pushed aside by a worried, and thoroughly outraged, Kate. He finally allowed Iago to lead him down to the drawing room, where Gifford was already comfortably settled with wine and food.
“Does Kate know she is a servant?” Hartley asked quietly as he helped himself to some wine and food, still stinging a little from being so summarily dismissed by a maid.
Iago laughed as he sprawled in a chair, but the heavy mood that had dogged him since he had found Alethea missing quickly returned. “She knows, but she has been with Alethea since they were both children. Kate is only a few years older. Five, mayhap six. Kate is one of those retainers who become almost part of the family.”
Hartley slowly nodded, thinking of the kindly Mrs. Huxley, his housekeeper in his London home. “If Kate decides a doctor is needed, I know a good one. Skilled and, most important, discrete.”
“Thank you. The Vaughns have one like that as well. A kinsman whose gift is in healing. Unlike some others who have that gift, he can control it.”
“Why would anyone want to control the gift of healing?”
“It drains the life out of the healer if he uses it too much or on the very sick, trying to cure them in one sitting. Archimedes has learned how to be careful, how to use his gift little by little, so that he is never exhausted by its demands.”
“Archimedes?” Gifford shook his head. “Your family has a gift for odd names as well as for other things.”
“True. I have never actually understood why that is. Some ancestor began it, and we all dutifully follow tradition.”
They talked idly about useless subjects, fighting to keep their minds off what was happening with Alethea, until Aldus arrived. Hartley had to fight the urge to jump on the man and shake him for information as Aldus helped himself to some food and drink. He knew a lot of his tense agitation was due to concern for Alethea, but he realized that he no longer appreciated how slowly the business of intrigue was conducted. Gathering information on traitors or the enemy was a slow, tedious business occasionally broken with periods of extreme danger.
“Did Claudette say anything when you told her I had been called away?” he asked the moment Aldus had settled himself comfortably beside Gifford.
“Nothing precise, of course,” Aldus replied. “She did act surprised when I told her you had left on an emergency. I also noticed that she looked around the ballroom most carefully. It did not please her to see no sign of the Vaughns. I believe she realized you had all left at the same time and, perhaps, guessed that that was your emergency.”
“Did she expect Alethea to come staggering back into the ballroom?” asked Iago. “Surely she must have realized that someone would take Alethea home once she was found. Unless she had hope that someone would find a body.”
“This was just a warning,” said Hartley. “The man that accosted Alethea said so himself. Claudette was probably displeased that her act of anger had actually worked to her disadvantage. Both Iago and I were now gone.”
“Me?” Iago did not even try to hide his surprise. “What on earth would the woman want with me? I have no ties to the government.”
“I believe you do have, through a few cousins,” replied Hartley and noticed how Aldus nodded. “You are also now tied to us, and to a woman Claudette is seeing as a rival or, at the very least, an impediment to her plans.”
“Ah, of course. It astounds me that one vain, coldly selfish woman could be so much trouble and so dangerous. There has to be a way to stop her.”
“We are close, very close. Unfortunately, the ones who know enough about her to get her hanged soon end up dead. Claudette has also gathered together a small cadre of very lethal men. I believe she has her escape route all carefully planned out, too. It will not be easy to bring her down, and it will definitely be a very dangerous job.”
“It has already proven to be so. Do not forget Rogers and Peterson,” said Gifford.
“Never.” Hartley thought of his sister’s children as well, and the rage he constantly battled to control shifted i
nside of him, eager to get out and find some target. “We have long suspected the woman and have spent many hours gathering up all the information we can.” He nodded toward Iago. “And now we have you and Alethea.”
“But you said you could not openly use what we have told you,” Iago said.
“No, but it points us in the right direction and that is no small thing. We will get this bitch, and she will hang. We just need the right proof to make even her lovers back away, more afraid of being touched by the blood on her than for their good names.”
“Why have you not gone after some of the men she has slept with? Why not try to find a weak point there? I doubt any of them actually sat there and told her exactly what she sought, handed her secret papers or the like. Yet, although they fear being tainted by her crimes now, if you can get them to believe it, just one of them, and swore to keep whatever slip they made a complete secret, they could be of some help.”
Hartley sighed and slowly nodded. “I had wished to avoid confronting any of them simply because of the utter aggravation of such a process, but I think the time for catering to their position in society or the government must end. Good people are dying, and our secrets are being sent to our enemies, and all by a woman society allows into their homes. God alone knows what she has found in those homes, or pilfered to send to her compatriots. Even if we cannot get enough proof to hang her, I think it is past time we start to close all those doors and make her games impossible to play.”
“Try to disarm her in a way,” murmured Gifford.
“Exactly,” agreed Hartley. “Disarm and break down the shields she hides behind, one by one.”
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