“I’m not going to marry you! I may not marry anyone! You and your secrets can bloody well go hang! This was for me. You don’t need to trouble yourself. You can go back to your parties and your women, and whatever else it is you do that you can’t talk about. There is no further reason for us to have contact.”
Merrick watched her calmly, feeling his own anger rise in response.
“I told you there would be no turning back Catherine. I may not be what you were looking for, but by your own actions, I will be what you are getting.”
Catherine started to argue, but Merrick continued.
“Despite my reputation, I am not a despoiler of virgins. You knew the potential ramifications of coming here without an escort. You are naïve in the extreme if you think you will be able to leave here with your reputation intact. People have already put us together. Furthermore, I have no intention of getting into a dual with either your father or your cousin over something I know is my responsibility to handle. Besides, a husband is what you came to London for anyway, wasn’t it?
Instead of cool and reserved, his statements came out curt and harsh, but he continued, “I must get this to Devon. Since you found your own way in, I’m sure you can find your own way out. But make no mistake; we will be wed. That has already been decided.”
Twelve
Catherine fumed the entire way home. She took some satisfaction in her magnificent departure however. This time there had been no one between her and the door, allowing her to properly march out of the room. She didn’t look back. The butler hurried to open the front door, as she never broke stride and looked as if she might walk right through it. Some poor gentleman coming up the walk had not been so fortunate. Her momentum was such as she descended the stairs that she nearly bowled him over at the bottom, when he paused, expecting to bow. Well, if he was a friend of Merrick’s then he got what he deserved.
Of all the arrogant, hypocritical, nonsense! She sought passion, not a husband. She would not be forced to marry. She was not yet ready to concede that coming here, without an escort, with the intention of seducing him, played a major part in her current predicament. Well, it was simply the principle. And how dare he tell me what I can and can’t pursue. Dangerous! Ha! He would probably tell me I might get a headache, or strain my eyes. I will continue with the symbols whether he likes it or not. Catherine congratulated herself for having the foresight to make her own copy. She most certainly would be visiting her cousin Travis at the museum.
Catherine was somewhat mollified by that last thought, but mostly due to the satisfaction of imagining Merrick’s face when she presented him with a complete deciphering of the paper. She walked into the house and stopped short as she saw her mother and Lord Grey in the sitting room. She almost groaned, what is he doing here?
Her mother spoke, “Catherine, Lord Grey has been generous enough to offer to take you to Hyde Park today? Isn’t that lovely? I have already given my permission, so hurry and change. It’s disgraceful that you already kept him waiting this long.”
It wasn’t worth the effort to explain that any waiting was Lord Grey’s fault, as she was unaware he planned to visit. It was on the tip of her tongue to refuse, she really wanted to get to the museum, but she was sure her mother probably detained him when he would have departed. It also occurred to her that allowing someone to drive her in the park was sure to make the gossip rounds. It certainly would send Merrick a message that she was her own woman. She felt a moment of guilt using Lord Grey in this manner since she had not planned on receiving him; he simply made her uncomfortable. But she could at least let him down in person and put Lord Sinclair back in his place.
So it was a short while later Catherine found herself perched atop Lord Grey’s phaeton trying to be a pleasant companion, although her heart was not in it. She compared everything he did, from the way he wore his clothes to how he handled the reins, to how Merrick would. And, unfortunately, thoughts of Merrick also led to her review of what happened in his library. There was something between them. What it was, and when it happened, she didn’t know. Why couldn’t she just agree to marry him? There was certainly passion. But not love, and there was the real problem. His passion undoubtedly had come from years of practice. She was no one in particular to him. She was interchangeable and "suitable" as he put it. She would do. Catherine knew hers had come from the heart. Love was really what she had been waiting for, and she would grow to love him, while he continued with his activities. The very thought made her sad. It would be better to be in a completely loveless marriage, than in a marriage that was one sided, and sure to eventually break her heart.
She started a little bit when Lord Grey addressed her, “You seem a little distracted my dear, are you not feeling well?”
She felt bad; Catherine had agreed to come on the ride, and had not been at all polite. She knew he was being solicitous, but why did every man have to assume if a female was in thought, she must be sick. Still feeling a little piqued from her earlier encounter, this now perturbed her as well. She altered her plans for how she planned to let him down, and launched into what she was sure he would find off-putting. Her mother would have fainted dead away if she were present.
“I apologize Lord Grey. It’s just that I have been helping to translate a rather unique paper, and I find I am quite preoccupied with it. As you may know my cousin is a researcher, and he encouraged my love for languages and archeology. Once I realized what some of the symbols represented, I was trying to think when I might have time to consult him. Alchemy is more his area of expertise.” All of that was true, and Catherine had become more animated as she spoke. She did not see the flash in his eyes nor the harsh set of his mouth when he inquired, “Alchemy?”
“Yes. As I said, I recognized some of the symbols, and they appear to be arranged in formulas. Unfortunately, part of the paper is burned, so we don’t have all of it. Travis may be able to make more sense of it. But I plan to be very involved,” she added hurriedly.
There was a pause before Lord Grey asked, “We?”’ Catherine finally turned to look at him and had to stop herself from shrinking away from the air of menace that seemed to surround him. He fixed her with a pointed stare and clearly expected an answer. She was shaken at first, but then realized his demeanor made sense. He was obviously concerned about potential competition for her affections. She did not realize he had developed such a tendre for her in this short time. She needed to discourage him, gently.
“Yes, actually the paper belongs to Lord Sinclair, but I am translating it for him.” She omitted the part about Merrick not wanting her to translate it, and the part about the pamphlet it had been discovered in; that information could become awkward.
Lord Grey turned the carriage toward her home and Catherine continued to chatter about symbols and formulas. “Who knows, maybe we will decipher the formula for turning lead into gold,” she laughed, as the wind caught her bonnet and she turned to catch it. She didn’t see Lord Grey’s eyes narrow to slits and go flat.
Thirteen
Devon entered the library brushing himself off, and was almost knocked over a second time as Merrick came charging out.
“Does anyone around here watch where they are going? Don’t answer. It was rhetorical. I assume you were about to go chasing after that delightful piece of… fluff. I’m afraid that will have to wait. I am bringing news.” Devon had planned to say something other than fluff, but after catching a glimpse of Merrick’s expression a healthy sense of self-preservation made him alter his word choice.
Merrick stood back and waved his friend in the room, trying to appear as if he had not been planning to do just that, go charging after a female like some green pup. He would deal with her later. He was annoyed and half-tempted to just make sure the blasted woman was not pregnant, and then send her on her independent way. But he knew that would not satisfy him.
Devon spoke, “Jack made his general enquiries and contacts, and I’m afraid it’s worse than anyone first reali
zed. There is a rumor a collection of scrolls was uncovered in the Pompeii ruins, alleged to have originated from the Library at Alexandria. No one seems to be able to track down the source of the rumor, or how they arrived here, but there is no shortage of speculation for what the scrolls contain. The ideas range from the elixir for immortality, the location of Atlantis, and secrets of ancient weapons. Most of it is outrageous, but it is the last category that concerns me.”
Merrick was already with him. “The fire.”
“Exactly. I thought the description of how the fire acted and the difficulty putting it out was due to the ineptness of that particular fire brigade. Now I’m not so sure, and the alternative could prove disastrous. What do you know about Greek Fire?”
Merrick thought for a moment, recalling some long forgotten history lessons. “Even though there was documentation, most thought it was too fanciful to be real. The fire was supposed to be unable to be put out, water actually made it worse. The Greeks were able to manipulate and somehow direct it. There were descriptions that it was thrown for hundreds of yards. It burned extremely hot, and whatever accelerant was used burned away. No one has been able to duplicate it.”
Devon went on, “If England’s enemies get the formula for Greek fire, it could be devastating. The risk to the fleet alone would be staggering. Not to mention the potential damage to crops and morale.”
Merrick pulled out the paper. “Then we have a problem. This was brought back to me today. Cath... The individual helping with the translation believes it may contain formulas lifted from the pamphlet, or the other way around. We need to get this translated right away.”
Despite the gravity of the situation, Devon suppressed a grin. “Then I guess you will be charging after a certain female. But you need the pamphlet too, and Jack has that. I will take the information to the agency, you find Jack and take it to your translator. Who is she anyway?”
Merrick paused, “Catherine Richardson. What do you know of the family?”
Devon considered carefully before he spoke, “She isn’t your usual type Merrick. I don’t know that she’s for you.”
Merrick didn’t like that answer, so he ignored it.
Fourteen
Catherine pushed back the hood of her cape and shook off some of the rain. The storm rolled in during the late afternoon and made the entrance to the museum dark and foreboding. Suppressing a shiver she shook off her feeling of disquiet. She was familiar with the museum. It was almost closing time, but she wanted to find Travis and investigate the symbols. Merrick left her no choice but to take matters into her own hands.
She planned to return to the country. A convenient marriage was not going to suit her. But first she wanted to finish the translation. She turned left and quickly made her way through the entrance to the Assyrian collection, passing between the two massive, winged-bull statues guarding the entrance, much as they had at the Palace of Sargon hundreds of years ago. She resisted the pull to head into the Egyptian gallery that held the Rosetta Stone and continued through part of the Greek display. Catherine made her way down the stairs and wound her way back to the research and storage area. She sneezed at the dust being stirred up as she walked through more Egyptian and Asian items. Not everyone was as meticulous as her cousin. She finally reached Travis’s area, but he was not there. Catherine stood for a moment, pondering her choices. It was very quiet, so when she heard the noise, it startled her. Wandering about the museum, alone, close to night, may not have been the best idea. The crates, stacks of books, various statues and mounted animals, were great fodder for a fanciful imagination. But she was not imagining the scraping, shuffling sound that was about to come around the corner. Catherine backed up against the door. There was no place to go. Her imagination had already supplied a clear picture of the mummy that would be turning the corner any second. Her heart was pounding.
Catherine couldn’t help the little squeal that escaped her as a stooped figure rounded the corner pushing a broom.
A broom? Mummies didn’t have brooms.
The figure saw Catherine gave a little jump of his own.
“Saints be with us! You gave me quite a start Lady Catherine.”
Catherine laughed and breathed a sigh of relief as she recognized James, one of the night janitors at the museum. Her cousin was always kind and courteous to the staff, and as a result, they went out of their way to help him.
“Good evening James. We both had a bit of a start. I was looking for Travis. I have a paper I think he would be interested in.”
James grinned and said, "Now why do I have a feeling you are just as interested in the paper? Lord Tennet is upstairs. They’re getting ready to display some gold princess in a coffin or some such thing. I just don’t know about digging up all these bodies, but it’s really got everybody hopping. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if I let you in his office afore he returns.”
Catherine smiled again, “That would be wonderful. I know where the book is I need to get some of the work started.”
She stepped aside and James opened the office. “I’ll need to be getting around to the other areas, but I’ll come back to check on you again to see if you need anything. If I see Lord Tennet, I’ll be sure to let him know you are here.” Catherine thanked him, but she was already perusing the shelves for the particular volume she wanted. Finding it, she settled into the desk chair, took out her paper, and began reading.
Catherine often lost herself when reading, so she had no idea how much time had passed when she pushed back in frustration. Some of this was not making any sense. She wished Travis would return. Rubbing the back of her neck, Catherine bent to the pages again, but paused when she thought she heard footsteps. But there was nothing. Well, she would at least complete one more line. The paper was creased and the ink was a little smudged on the first symbol. It could be either phosphorous or sulphur. This is what was so confusing. Why would someone need to know a formula for making fire? She did not hear the person behind her until it was too late. Catherine recognized the sickeningly sweet smell of chloroform as the soaked rag was clamped over her nose and mouth. Merrick was right about the danger. That was her last thought before slipping into unconsciousness.
Fifteen
It took Merrick longer than he anticipated to find Jack, but he finally had the pamphlet and was making his way into the museum from the back entrance. Jack was trying to track down and somehow catalog the list of outrageous claims being made about the scrolls. Even if only half of what was rumored were true, every treasurer hunter, mystic, and power hungry individual would be after these scrolls. Merrick and the others disregarded the more outrageous claims, but potential weapons were another matter. So were maps.
Merrick stopped by the Tennet house. He wanted to check on Catherine after their earlier encounter. In hindsight, he also thought Catherine had given in a little too easily about not decoding the symbols. The butler confirmed Miss Catherine had indeed gone to the museum, after returning from a carriage ride with a Lord Grey. Merrick was not sure which bit of information annoyed him more. Grey’s name was familiar, but Merrick could not place him immediately.
Merrick entered the building on the main floor, turned sharply to the right to proceed down the West stairs and immediately collided with someone descending from the upper level. He made a quick apology and tried to continue, but the other gentleman spoke, his annoyance evident in his clipped tones,
“The museum is closed sir, I’m afraid you will have to return tomorrow, and downstairs is only open to staff.”
Merrick was taken aback. Not by the statement, which he was already disregarding, but by the individual speaking. “Travis? What the devil are you doing here?”
“I believe I work here on occasion,” Travis responded wryly, also just now recognizing Merrick. “Sorry about that. I didn’t recognize you. Some items have been disappearing lately and they are trying to tighten up security. Where are you going in such a hurry?”
Merrick disregarded the usu
al niceties, “Have you seen Catherine?”
Now it was Travis’s turn to be confused, “Catherine? My cousin? I have not seen her today if that is what you mean. He paused, but then continued, “How do you know Catherine and why are you in such a hurry to find her?”
Merrick frowned, “She was helping me with a translation. She must not realize you are back in town.”
“Of course she knows I’m here, I’m the one that told her where she could find me.” Travis also frowned. “What, exactly is going on?”
Merrick ran a frustrated hand through his short hair. He didn’t know why, but the second he entered the building he felt agitated. Something was wrong. “She may be in danger. I’ll explain on the way to your office. We have to find Catherine.”
Merrick gave Travis an extremely abridged version of events, particularly where he and Catherine were concerned, but Travis now knew enough to understand some of Merrick’s urgency. The danger became more apparent as they entered the cramped corridor to Travis’s office, and saw James, one of the nighttime janitors, lying on the floor. Merrick checked his pulse and was relieved to find he was alive. His assailant had either been an amateur or in a hurry and Merrick was hoping for the former. Travis stayed with James and Merrick continued to approach Travis’s office quietly, as there was no way to know if the attacker was still there. All he discovered was an empty office.
There wasn’t a sign of a struggle, but the open book on the desk and the lingering smell of chloroform told Merrick all he needed to know. Well not all, he still had no idea who took her or where. Merrick picked up the book and brought it back to where Travis was still trying to revive James.
Travis noted the book Merrick had with him; it was what he used to catalog alchemic symbols. “What was she working on? Why did you involve her in this?” Since Merrick had asked for Travis’s assistance on occasion, he was one of the few that had some idea of what Merrick and the others did. So Travis knew his alarm was justified.
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