With This Ring

by Amanda Quick

  Beatrice stared, transfixed. “Leo, it’s the alchemist’s Aphrodite. It must be her.”

  The goddess gazed out at the chamber with enigmatic calm. Frozen waves crashed and rolled beneath her bare feet. Her hair tumbled down her back in a design that echoed the sea on which she stood.

  “It’s an Aphrodite.” Leo studied the figure with rapt attention. “Not necessarily the right one.”

  “It must be the right one.” Beatrice hurried forward. “This was what brought Uncle Reggie back to Trull’s time after time. He must have somehow traced her here to the museum.”

  A sharp crack of stone on wood interrupted Leo before he could respond.

  “Bloody hell,” he said much too softly. He looked past Beatrice to the staircase that led to the upper floor of the museum.

  Beatrice whirled and saw the sharp angle of light at the top of the steps. It widened swiftly to reveal two figures. The lantern that one of them held glared so harshly that it was impossible to make out their faces in the shadows behind it.

  But there was no mistaking the pistol in one man’s hand. Nor was it difficult to recognize the voice of the person who held it.

  “So you finally found your way to Trull’s special chamber, Monkcrest. I told you that it was a most inspiring place for an author. Was I not right, Mrs. Poole?”

  “Mr. Saltmarsh,” Beatrice whispered. “What are you doing here, sir?”

  “The same thing you are, my dear,” he said cheerfully. “I see that you have also found our bitch of a goddess. You see, Sibson? I told you they would show eventually. Patience was all that was required.”

  “Damnation.” The cadaver-thin man with the lantern pattered swiftly down the steps. He came to a halt at the bottom of the staircase and stared at Leo with bulging eyes and bristling whiskers. “You found the Rings, you bloody bastard. You actually found them. After all the time I spent looking for them. It’s not fair, I tell you. It’s not bloody well fair.”

  So this was Mr. Sibson, Beatrice thought. Leo was right. He was a man who clearly suffered from a high-strung temperament. He simmered with nervous energy. Everything about him from his fluttering brows to his twitching fingers was in motion.

  Leo glanced at Sibson and then returned his attention to Saltmarsh. “There seems to be a misunderstanding here.”

  “Nothing that we cannot clear up quickly enough, Monkcrest.”

  Saltmarsh’s pistol never wavered as he came slowly down the steps. As he drew closer, Beatrice saw that he had a second pistol stuck into the waistband of his trousers.

  “I see you are not wearing your spectacles, Mr. Saltmarsh,” she said. “Were they your notion of a suitable disguise?”

  “I thought they gave me a scholarly air.” He smiled. “I wanted you to take me seriously, Mrs. Poole. In the beginning I had hoped to charm you into giving me the Rings. I was convinced that a woman of your intelligence would be more likely to respond to a gentleman who approached you as a fellow author rather than one who attempted to sweep you off your feet with silly compliments about your eyes and lips.”

  “I see.”

  “Unfortunately, you chose to fall for the eccentric attractions of the Mad Monk instead. Did it ever occur to you that he was only using you to get the Rings?”

  Sibson bounced and sputtered. “Where are the Rings? Make him give us the Rings, Saltmarsh.”

  “In good time.” The young man eyed Leo thoughtfully. “First, take off your greatcoat, Monkcrest. You look quite dashing in it, but it would be just like you to have stuck a pistol in one of those large pockets.”

  “As you wish.” Leo shrugged out of the heavy coat. He set it down on a nearby display case.

  “I must also ask that you remove your cloak as well, Mrs. Poole.” He raised his eyes when she took off the garment. “Trousers. How very intriguing. And oddly appealing on a lady.”

  Beatrice did not like the look in his eyes. Without a word she put the cloak aside. The tiny pistol inside one pocket made a soft, distinct clunk against the wooden case.

  “Check the pockets, Sibson.”

  “Yes, of course. The Rings may be in one of them.” Sibson set down his lantern, seized Leo’s coat, and clawed at the pockets.

  “Bloody hell. There is nothing in here but a pistol.”

  “Take the pistol out and put it well beyond Monkcrest’s reach.” Saltmarsh employed the tone one used with a not very bright child. “And then check Mrs. Poole’s cloak pockets.”

  Leo watched Sibson retrieve the pistol from the pocket of his greatcoat. “How long have you been in partnership with Saltmarsh, Sibson?”

  “He came to me when the rumors first began to circulate.” Sibson clutched Leo’s gun in both hands. “I had heard the same talk, of course. For a while it was all that the serious collectors discussed. But no one knew where to look. Saltmarsh and I agreed to work together to locate the Rings and the statue.”

  “You traced the Rings to Ashwater’s shop,” Leo said.

  “He always did have the most excellent connections,” Sibson complained. “Ashwater’s family had money years ago. He took the Grand Tour when he was a young man. That’s how he acquired his sources. Not fair. Not fair in the least.”

  “Unfortunately, by the time we got to him, Ashwater had already sold the Rings and wisely left Town.” Saltmarsh came to a halt at the bottom of the stairs. “It took weeks to determine that Lord Glassonby had purchased the damned relics.”

  Beatrice could barely contain her fury. “You murdered Uncle Reggie for the Rings.”

  “Your uncle died of a slight miscalculation,” Saltmarsh said negligently.

  “A miscalculation?” Beatrice could not believe her ears. She was so angry, her hands shook.

  “Wasn’t supposed to die.” Sibson’s whiskers twitched in outrage. “It was a disaster for us. A disaster.”

  “How dare you speak of murder as if it were an inconvenience and a miscalculation.” Beatrice whispered.

  Leo cast her a warning glance. “Beatrice.”

  She ignored him. “Dr. Cox was in on this from the start, I assume?”

  “Cox was, indeed, a member of our little group,” Saltmarsh admitted. “Once I explained the possibilities, he was as eager to get his hands on the secret of the Forbidden Rings as the rest of us.”

  “He was useful because of his extensive knowledge of herbs and because Glassonby went to him for the elixir,” Sibson said. “Cox was in the perfect position to give Glassonby the potion.”

  “Which one of you murdered Cox?” Leo asked coolly.

  “He did.” Sibson shot Saltmarsh a nervous look. “I told him it was a stupid thing to do. Too many deaths in this thing already. Another one was bound to draw attention. Especially yours, Monkcrest. Didn’t want you blundering any deeper into it.”

  Saltmarsh’s mouth tightened. “I was forced to get rid of Cox because he became greedy.”

  “Greedy? That is an outrageous accusation, coming from you,” Beatrice snapped.

  “Saltmarsh said that Cox had lost faith in our plans.” Sibson’s ferrety eyes darted back to Graham. “He said Cox feared that we would never find the Rings and that he wanted to gain something from the venture, so he attempted to blackmail us.”

  “Is that what Saltmarsh said?” Icy amusement curved Leo’s mouth. “I doubt that it happened quite that way, Sibson.”

  “What do you mean?” Sibson demanded.

  “I think Saltmarsh simply concluded that he no longer needed Cox after he used him to try to poison Clarinda.”

  “Clarinda?” Sibson looked bewildered. “The little harlot across the street? What’s she got to do with this?”

  “She was spying on us.” Saltmarsh frowned in annoyance. “I realized that after you told me that you had seen Monkcrest give her some money. Didn’t it strike you as odd that she was suddenly able to afford a tavern?”

  “What about Cox?” Sibson demanded.

  Leo shrugged. “Saltmarsh decided he didn’t need hi
m anymore, so he got rid of him. Why split the treasure three ways?”

  Sibson’s eyes seemed to start out of his head. Still clutching Leo’s pistol, he swung around to face Saltmarsh. “Is that what happened? Did you kill Cox because you did not want to share the treasure with him?”

  “What does it matter?” Saltmarsh asked. “He is gone. You and I will split the treasure two ways.”

  “Surely you do not believe that he intends to share whatever he finds inside the statue with you, Sibson,” Leo said very softly. “Why should he do that?”

  “Be quiet, Monkcrest.” Saltmarsh raised the pistol an inch higher and pointed it at Beatrice. “Or I shall have to kill the lovely Mrs. Poole.”

  “That would be stupid,” Leo said. “She is the only one who knows where the Rings are.”

  Beatrice managed to conceal her surprise at that startling Announcement. It took her only a second to comprehend that Leo was attempting to protect her by making her appear to be indispensable. The ruse would not work for long, she thought.

  “Where are they?” Sibson was almost hopping up and down now. He looked at Graham. “Make her tell us where the Rings are.”

  “All in good time.”

  “You don’t want him to rush, Sibson,” Leo said. “After all, the sooner he gets his hands on the Rings, the sooner he will kill you.”

  “I’m warning you, Monkcrest.” Saltmarsh cocked the pistol.

  Beatrice realized that Leo was deliberately fanning the embers of distrust between Sibson and Saltmarsh. She looked at Saltmarsh. “It is quite obvious that you intend to murder us all before this is over, Mr. Sibson included.”

  Sibson gave another violent start. “Here now. What do you mean, obvious?”

  “I told you, he wants the treasure for himself,” Leo said.

  “You cannot mean to kill me, Saltmarsh.” The pistol trembled in Sibson’s hand. “See here, we had an agreement.”

  “Put the pistol down.” Saltmarsh appeared to have become aware of the threat from Sibson’s unstable nerves. “Of course we’re partners. We will share the treasure between us, as agreed.”

  “Cox was also one of your partners,” Leo reminded Sibson softly.

  “You said he tried to blackmail us, Saltmarsh.” Sibson’s whiskers vibrated. “Was that the truth?”

  “Yes. Now put the bloody gun down,” Saltmarsh snarled.

  “If you set that pistol aside, be prepared to die,” Leo murmured.

  “Damn you, Monkcrest, I have had enough of your interference.” Saltmarsh swung the pistol back toward Leo. “If Mrs. Poole is the one who knows where the Rings are, then I have no more use for you.”

  Beatrice saw Saltmarsh’s finger tighten on the trigger. She realized Leo was preparing to hurl himself to the side. She feared that he would never make it. Desperate for a diversion, she did something that she never permitted her heroines to do. She screamed.

  “Noooo!”

  Her feminine shriek of fright and rage reverberated in the room. It echoed against the stone walls. It seemed to Beatrice that it actually picked up energy from the eerie atmosphere that permeated the chamber. Saltmarsh flinched. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Leo wince.

  The effect on the already-jittery Sibson was electrifying. His mouth opened and closed. He jerked once, twice. His hands tightened convulsively around Leo’s pistol. It roared.

  The ball crashed into a nearby cabinet, shattering the glass panes.

  Saltmarsh’s face contorted with fury. “You bloody, stupid, useless little man.” He turned toward Sibson and fired.

  Sibson’s scream took up where Beatrice’s left off. It did not last long. He clutched at his chest, where blood spouted in a ghastly red plume. He crumpled toward the cold stones, an expression of horrified disbelief on his face.

  Leo launched himself at Saltmarsh before Sibson struck the floor. Beatrice saw Saltmarsh toss the empty pistol aside and reach for the one in his trousers. He was off-balance and clearly rattled by the realization that the situation had escalated beyond his control. He managed to free the second pistol, but he could not get it cocked in time.

  Leo smashed into him. The momentum carried both of them to the floor.

  Beatrice heard the sickening sound of fists thudding against flesh. Hoarse grunts and dull, heavy blows echoed into the chamber.

  The men rolled wildly across the stone floor, crashing into cabinets and fetching up against table legs. It was impossible to tell which one was winning the vicious fight.

  Beatrice cast about desperately for some object to use against Saltmarsh. Her gaze fell on a heavy vase decorated with a funeral motif. She dashed to the cabinet in which it stood, seized the vessel in both hands, and whirled around.

  Before she could sort out the combatants, she heard a dreadful thud. For a timeless instant, both men lay utterly still on the floor.

  “Leo.”

  He raised his head to look at her. She shivered when she saw the icy flames of violence that burned in his eyes.

  “Are you all right?” she whispered.

  “Yes.” He lurched free of Saltmarsh and levered himself up off the floor. He stood, looking down at his opponent.

  Beatrice glanced at Graham. He lay on his stomach, motionless. His face was turned away from her. Blood matted his golden hair. The edges of his torn shirt drifted across his back, mute testimony to the violence.

  “After the last blow, he fell backward. I think he struck his head against that cabinet.” Leo leaned down and touched Saltmarsh’s throat. “He is dead.”

  “They were all involved in Uncle Reggie’s murder,” Beatrice whispered. “All three of them.”

  “So it would seem. But there is still something about this affair that does not feel right.”

  “The Rings are still missing, if that is what you mean.”

  “I was not referring to the Rings.”

  A low groan from Sibson interrupted him.

  “Leo, Mr. Sibson is still alive.”

  Beatrice hurried to the fallen man. “He is not fully conscious.” She knelt beside Sibson and went to work to fashion a bandage out of his shirt. “The bleeding is not too bad.”

  Leo looked back at Graham’s prone body as if seeking answers from the dead. He sucked in his breath. “Hell’s teeth.”

  “What is it?”

  “Look at his back.” Leo crouched beside the dead man.

  Beatrice shuddered, but she made herself look at the skin that was visible through the torn linen shirt. She saw a long welt etched into the flesh just above his hip. “I don’t understand.”

  Leo jerked a larger piece of the ripped garment aside to expose another welt. “I believe that we are looking at the results of a rather vigorous application of the rod.”

  For a second, Beatrice was at a loss. And then it all came together. “Dear God. The House of the Rod.”

  “Come.” Leo rose quickly and stepped across Graham’s body. “We must get out of here immediately.”

  “What about Mr. Sibson? We cannot leave him here.”

  Leo eyed the unconscious man. “He is small and light. Do you think you can manage his feet while I take his shoulders? We may be able to get him up the stairs.”

  “Yes.” Beatrice leaned down to grasp Sibson’s thin ankles. “He is a nasty little man, but he does not appear to have been directly involved with the murders.”

  “Too nervous for that sort of thing.” Leo bent down to get a grip on Sibson’s narrow shoulders.

  A dark shadow moved at the top of the stone staircase.

  “Good evening.” Madame Virtue, elegant in a black gown, a matching black pelisse, and a rakish black-veiled hat, descended the steps with a pistol in her hand. “I trust that you two have tidied up most of the loose ends for me. Now we can proceed to the business at hand.”

  Chapter 20

  ‘Tis a bold scheme constructed in the shadows and carried out in darkness….

  FROM CHAPTER TWENTY OF The Ruin BY MRS. AMELIA YORK


  Leo watched Madame Virtue come to a halt at the foot of the steps. The pistol in her hand was rock steady.

  “You were behind it from the start.” he said.

  “Of course.” Madame Virtue raised her veil with a black-gloved hand. She kept the pistol trained on him, but her attention was clearly focused on Beatrice. “In the course of my career I have learned many useful secrets from my clients, but the affair of the Forbidden Rings was by far the most intriguing.”

  “Who told you about the Rings?” Beatrice asked.

  “Your uncle first mentioned the rumors that were circulating one evening after he had indulged in a bit too much claret.” Madame Virtue shrugged. “It is odd how frequently my clients wish to brag about their business affairs. It is as if they seek to impress me.”

  “What did Uncle Reggie tell you?”

  Madame Virtue raised one shoulder in a graceful shrug. “He believed he knew where to find the Rings. And he also thought that he knew the whereabouts of the alchemist’s statue.”

  “He had traced it to Trull’s Museum.”

  “Yes.” Madame Virtue glanced at the figure of Aphrodite. “He learned that it was in a shipment of artifacts that survived a fire in the home of a man named Morgan Judd. Judd himself died in the blaze. Several items from his collection were purchased by Trull. But Glassonby said that Trull did not know the significance of the statue.”

  Leo glanced at the figure. “Assuming that is the right Aphrodite, it has no value at all without the Rings. And they seem to have disappeared.”

  “Indeed.” Madame Virtue flicked an impatient glance at him. “After Glassonby told me his tale, I had Mr. Saltmarsh, another one of my clients, an extremely devoted one, as it happens, make some discreet inquiries.”

  “Saltmarsh went to Sibson to verify the rumors and Glassonby’s story,” Leo said.

  “Yes. But the fool was always one step behind Glassonby. Glassonby got to the Rings before we did.”

  “So you brought in Dr. Cox and his poisons,” Beatrice said.

  Madame Virtue smiled. “Indeed.”

  Leo leaned back against the cabinet on which he had earlier placed the lantern. He planted his hands on either side of his thighs. “Neither Sibson nor Cox knew that you were the one in charge of the scheme, did they?”