The Black Mask

by Cynthia Bailey Pratt

  “I’m sorry to disturb you so late,”

  “Always a pleasure.”

  “Oh, don’t,” she said suddenly, knowing this was the last time they’d ever meet without constraint on her side. “Don’t we know each other well enough by this time to dispense with all this empty formality? Can’t we be friends?”

  The flickering light made his eyes seem deep set and dark. “Friends? Why should we ...”

  A thunderous knocking interrupted him. Before anyone could go to answer, the front door burst open and two men, struggling, striving each to hold the other back, stormed in.

  “Let me go, Spenser,” Colonel Wapton demanded. “I tell you, he’s here! I saw him ...”

  “You can’t come bursting into a man’s house like this. A man’s home is a castle and all that.”

  “To hell with that.” The colonel shook off Rupert like a bull mastiff tiring of the gambols of a puppy. He headed toward the rear of Sir Niles’s house.

  “Sir Niles!” Rupert stood in the middle of the hall and called. “I say, Wapton, you can’t go upstairs in another man’s house like that.” He seemed to throw himself forward, and there came the noise of a renewed struggle. A crash indicated that a reception table had fallen over.

  Rose, the instant she recognized her brother, shrank back against the far side of the fireplace, instinctively choosing to conceal herself. Suddenly the consideration she’d dismissed—the unconventionality of visiting a single gentleman—appeared to her through Rupert’s eyes. He might even attempt to call Sir Niles out. Or, just as great an evil, Sir Niles might feel compelled to offer for her. Though she could trust Sir Niles not to accept Rupert’s challenge, she didn’t know if she could trust herself to turn down what she now knew she wanted above all things. If only she could stop the Black Mask, she thought, but knew it must already be too late,

  “If you reach along to your right,” Niles said quickly and softly, “the second bookcase along is actually a door.”

  She nodded as Rupert called out Niles’s name again, this time thickly, as though his mouth were half covered. “I’d better go,” Niles said, watching her as she found the moving shelf. “There are some rather nice objects out in the hall.”

  Another shattering crash didn’t even make him wince. “A Chinese vase.” A more ringing noise came a second later, accompanied by a cry of pain. “And a silver bowl.”

  “Go, before they ruin your house!” Rose said, wondering why he didn’t seem to care about his precious things. Why would a man stand smiling at her as if he’d been handed a much-desired gift when two ruffians were holding a mill in his foyer? A slight spark of hope lit in her heart.

  He spun on his heel abruptly. The next thing she heard was Rupert greeting him with relief and a touch of chagrin. “Thank God you’re home, Niles. Help me with this madman, will you?”

  “Let him up, Rupert.”

  Rose could not resist stealing a glance at this scene. She peered out of the library. Fortunately, Niles and Rupert had their backs to her, and Wapton was holding his hand to his eye. “You’ve got to let me search,” he said desperately. “I know he’s here. I saw him!”

  “Who is?” Niles asked.

  Rupert broke in. “I was walking in the door at my aunt’s home when he all but knocks me down in the street. He claims he saw the Black Mask in my sister’s bedroom. Of all the crust! What the hell was Wapton doing in my sister’s bedroom?”

  “I told you.” Wapton took his hand down to look at his fingertips, then gingerly felt his brow. “The butler called me to come up.”

  “I didn’t see Hurst anywhere,” Rupert said suspiciously.

  “I sent him downstairs again when we found ... what I was looking for. Then I turned to go and there was the Black Mask standing in front of me. As soon as he saw me, he bolted,”

  “I fail to see,” Niles said at his most drawling, “what this has to do with your intrusion.”

  “Why, he climbed over the wall at the back of this house. He could be hiding anywhere.”

  “He’s probably halfway to the Seven Dials by now,” Rupert pointed out, scoffing. “Why would he hide here, of all places? A criminal like that would head back to his lair at once like any wild beast.”

  “Undoubtedly true,” Niles said, “though my recollection of natural history is not the strongest. I haven’t the least objection to your searching my house, Wapton. I shall call my man to help you, but first let me offer you some brandy. You are undoubtedly overset.”

  “No. Thank you,” Wapton said, half turning in his seat to cast a glance up the staircase. “I’ll start at once.”

  “Come, come,” Niles said. “If the fellow’s here, he’s not going anywhere. Come into the library.”

  Shaking her head a little at the incalculability of men, even those she loved, Rose slipped through the concealed doorway to find herself in a kind of butler’s pantry. The brandy Niles had sent his man for sat on the counter, bottle gleaming, glasses bright. Of Baxter, however, there was no sign.

  Rose started forward, looking for the man to help her out of the back premises. She would circle around to the front and reenter, feigning surprise and shock at finding Rupert and the colonel there before her. She could also tell Baxter to put another glass on his silver tray.

  She found Baxter by the constant, low muttering of “oh, dear, oh, dear.” He hardly seemed to know what he was doing. As she came around a corner, she saw him, a bundle of wet clothing clasped to his chest which explained the damp spot on his apron. A piece jerked from the top of this pile and unfolded as it fell, revealing it to be a black stock. With a shake of his head, he bent to pick it up. His movements were encumbered by a rain-darkened leather satchel under his arm.

  As he placed the fallen stock on the top of the pile, another piece dropped from underneath. “Oh, dear. What next?”

  “Let me help you, Baxter,” Rose said.

  When he jumped in surprise, his hands flew up. Everything in his arms tumbled. Rose, feeling as if the earth had stopped turning and begun to spin the other way, reached down for one very familiar thing.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “You are welcome to search,” Niles said, “providing, of course, that Rupert accompanies you.”

  Both men’s coats and heads were darkened with rain. Wapton passed his hand over his face, wiping away both the rain and his panic. A low, boiling anger took its place. “Perhaps you can explain, Sir Niles, where the Black Mask has disappeared to.”

  “Tell me what you saw in greater detail.”

  “A man, all in black, masked. About your height or a tad taller. He ... ran as soon as he saw me. I gave chase, naturally.”

  “I saw no one,” Rupert repeated. “Just this fellow charging down the stairs like Hannibal’s elephant. We collided, and I’m glad now I got some of my own back. He put his dashed elbow in my eye.” He tapped his cheekbone experimentally. “Shouldn’t be surprised if I have a blasted black eye.”

  “The Black Mask ran through Lady Marlton’s house, showing great familiarity with the premises,” Wapton said.

  “What’s that? Listen, if you dare cast any aspersions on my aunt...”

  “I didn’t mean that. This is a clever thief; he might have studied the house before he ever entered it. Meanwhile, while we stand here debating, he’s getting away.”

  “On your own showing,” Niles put in silkily, “he hasn’t stolen anything, so why go through the exhaustion of chasing him?” He watched Wapton closely, though his eyes were purposefully sleepy.

  The man chewed his lip as he internally debated confession. “He did steal something. Something of mine.”

  “He did?” Instantly, Rupert was contrite. “I’m sorry to hear that, old man. That explains why you were off like a hound on the scent. What was it?”

  ‘Yes,” Niles said. “What was it?”

  Wapton seemed to have some constriction in his throat. “Merely a bundle of old papers. I daresay the fellow will toss them on the near
est fire once he realizes they have no value.” It was not hot in the hall, but sweat inched glisteningly down Wapton’s cheek.

  “Not incriminating, I hope,” Rupert said with a loud laugh. “Else they’ll be on the prime minister’s desk come the morning.”

  Niles saw Wapton grow pale, though he tried to join in with Rupert’s laugh. The man’s smile could have been the rictus of a man ten days dead. Feeling just one pang of pity, Niles renewed his offer of brandy. This time, both men accepted.

  The tray, with a bottle and three glasses, sat on the wide library table. He saw no sign of Baxter. Surely, his man would escort Rose safely to her aunt’s house as soon as he himself had herded Wapton and Rupert out of the hall.

  Niles felt he had lost control of this situation at roughly the time Rose had walked in. He’d expected her, having instructed her to arrive at just that time, yet her entrance had been some kind of trigger for chaos. He felt like a juggler, competent at passing four clubs from hand to hand, suddenly asked to add three flaming torches, two anvils, and a clutch of hummingbird eggs.

  Wapton, after knocking back his brandy with a cavalier disregard for its age and quality, began to stride about the room. Niles leaned against the desk and watched him, his arms crossed. Every so often, he noticed, Wapton shot him a wondering glance, gradually sharpening into suspicion. Niles thought about how to play the scene he felt fast approaching.

  Rupert reached for the ring-necked decanter as soon as he’d drunk his first glass. “Still want to know what the hell Hurst meant by letting you go up to m’sister’s room. He’s a stickler for the conventions, I know.” He drank. “And then to leave you alone up there. That ain’t like him.”

  “I can’t say I’ve studied the inner workings of a butler’s mind as you seem to have done, Spenser. Are you setting up as an expert?” Wapton sneered impatiently.

  “You’ve got a damned insulting tone,” Rupert said, rising.

  “Sit down, Rupert,” Niles said out of the corner of his mouth. “You seem to have something you wish to say to me, Wapton.”

  The colonel squinted at Niles. “Why is your hair wet?”

  Rupert stared. “You know why. The skies opened as we came up the street. I’m not prepared to swear it wasn’t hailing.”

  “Not yours, fool. His. You’re the right height, Alardyce. You could have climbed that wall and been safe in your house in seconds.”

  Again, Rupert spoke first. “Sir Niles the Black Mask? You’re all about in your head, Wapton. He couldn’t be.”

  “Why not?” Wapton said. “He’s famous for his gem collection, which the Black Mask hasn’t even attempted to steal. No one would suspect the meticulous Sir Niles Alardyce of climbing in windows and over dirty rooftops.”

  “I certainly wouldn’t,” Rupert agreed, reaching for the brandy decanter once more.

  Wapton approached Niles, his shoulders squared, looking like a whole battalion on the march. He would have made two of Niles. His clenched fists looked like hammers. “Give it back, Alardyce, and I won’t waste time beating you to a bloody pulp.”

  “Yes, you haven’t much time to waste, do you, Wapton?” Though his body had tensed, Niles kept his voice level and easy. “You’ve surely a long way to travel. Which way are you going? The Continent? Or the Americas? What kennel have you chosen to hide in, your tail between your legs?”

  He couldn’t filter out of his tone the contempt he felt, and Wapton’s lips twisted into a grimace compounded of anger and anticipation.

  Slowly, Niles straightened up and readied himself, fire and exhilaration flickering in his veins. At last, he could take physical revenge for everything Christian had suffered. Wapton was big, but Niles had learned from his earliest boyhood that agility and speed could defeat strength and size.

  “I could forgive you for stealing my papers,” Wapton said in a growl, “if you hadn’t dragged Rose into your schemes. I’m going to enjoy this.”

  Rupert blinked in surprise. “What’s that? What the devil are you saying about my sister?”

  “How did Alardyce know to steal my papers from her room? He must have been there.”

  “Here now...”

  “Maybe if you weren’t drunk three nights out of four, Spenser, you’d know what goes on in that house. For all you know, Alardyce seduced her weeks ago. I would have kept her safe from the likes of him.”

  Niles hit him. The big man staggered back, the back of his hand flying to the trickle of blood that came from his split lip. Niles ignored the pain of his knuckles. “Don’t try to make yourself out the hero of this melodrama,” he said. “You’re the villain. You’ve been the villain all along, you and Beringer and Curtman.”

  “Here,” Rupert said, trying to keep up. “I know those names. Poets, aren’t they?”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” Wapton said so weakly that even Rupert looked contemptuous. He turned his back on him.

  “Listen, Sir Niles, I know you’ve never so much as looked at my sister ...”

  ‘You’re quite wrong.”

  “What? Now, see here, if you’ve been playing fast and loose with Rose, you’ll have to take the consequences.”

  “I’m entirely prepared to do so, Rupert, but there are a few other matters I must deal with first.”

  “I beg your pardon,” Rose said in a voice so clear and icy that it instantly chilled the virility-fueled confrontation in the library. Wapton and Rupert looked in her direction, pausing as if frozen in their positions. The only sound was Rupert’s glass hitting the floor, dropped from nerveless fingers.

  Niles turned his head much more slowly, his eyes closed, delaying the inevitable moment when he’d witness the wreck of his hopes. When he did finally look at Rose, she was no wrathful maiden, but stood there in the shadows smiling at him with such warmth and tenderness as to make his rage dissolve like a pinch of salt in the sea.

  She crossed the room to his side, taking his bruised hand tenderly in hers, bringing it to rest against her bosom. “You are quite wrong, Colonel. Niles isn’t the Black Mask. He couldn’t be. He’s been right here with me the entire evening. As for his hair being a trifle damp, I have cause to know he took a bath a little while ago.”

  Niles, appalled, tried to tug his hand free, though an instant ago he’d been more than pleased with its location.

  “How do you know that?” Wapton demanded.

  She lowered her eyelids demurely. Was it a trick of the firelight or was she actually blushing? “Really, Colonel...” she said softly.

  “Rose!” Rupert cried.

  “I’m sorry, Rupert. I know how this must look.”

  “It looks as though you’ve lost your mind,” her brother said in anguish. “Wapton’s right. This is all my fault. Sir Niles, you must marry her at once.”

  Niles started to speak, but Rose gripped his hand so tightly, her nails left marks. “No,” Rose said in all seriousness. “I make my own decisions,”

  Rupert looked as if he didn’t know whether to hit Niles or break down and cry. “What will Father say? And poor Aunt Paige? How could you betray her trust like this?”

  “Why don’t you go tell her?” Rose suggested.

  “I will. I’ll tell her I have a sister who is entirely dead to shame!” He marched toward the library doors, only to wheel sharply before he reached them. Rose, who had sighed with relief at his departure, tensed again. “Where is she dining tonight?”

  “With the Gardners.”

  “Middle of St. James Square?” At her nod, he marched off again.

  Niles felt Rose’s body sag against his as she watched her brother leave the room. She let go of his hand but he turned it in his own and brought it to his lips. “He was in no danger, Rose,” he murmured. “Wapton wants to kill me, not Rupert.”

  “He’ll never do it,” she answered back, brightly. “But I want to see you mill him down.”

  Wapton sneered. “That runt? I was division boxing champion three years running.”

  “
I’ve already hit you once,” Niles said, untying his sash.

  “That was luck.”

  “I’ve always had lucky hands,” Niles said, handing his dressing gown to Rose, along with the scarf he wore about his neck. Under it, he had on scuffed boots and black breeches.

  Though it was piling scandal on scandal, Rose watched him dance out, his fists ready. His body, though slender, had muscles that gleamed like oiled stones under his smooth skin. As he turned his shoulder to Wapton, presenting less of a target, she saw a line of dark hair ran down the center of his chest into the waist of his breeches over a ridged belly. His body had the condition of a marble Greek god.

  Wapton huffed as he struggled out of his damp coat. “We’ll see if she’ll still want you when your pretty face is battered and your nose is spread over half your face.” He ripped off his military-style stock and yanked his shirt out of his waistband. He started to take it off but glanced at Rose, who was gazing with admiration at Niles’s lean form. He left his shirt on, but sucked in his stomach.

  He danced out as well, shaking his arms and shoulders to loosen them. “I’m going to destroy you,” he said levelly.

  “Enough talking.” Niles’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction and a kind of unholy joy. Rose’s faith in him didn’t waver but she did close her eyes as Wapton swung his left.

  She’d sometimes gone to the butcher’s at home. The sound she heard reminded her of when the butcher cut off a chop with one heavy stroke of the cleaver.

  She opened her eyes to see Wapton staggering back, doubled over. Miles followed him, his boots tapping rapidly over the floor. Then he slipped in a small puddle of brandy from Rupert’s dropped glass. The crystal rolled ringingly across the floor.

  Hope blazing in his eyes, Wapton came forward, his hands held low, his teeth showing. Rose suddenly knew what a man who meant to kill looked like. She wanted to scream, but pressed her fist hard against her lips, stifling any distracting sound.

  Niles twisted like a fish leaping out of the water and saved himself from falling. Shadows moved across their bodies as they weaved in and out of candlelight and firelight, teasing eyes and intellect. Wapton threw out his right but somehow Niles was no longer in the same place to be hit.