by Adams, Lucy
Edward let out a breath, both horrified and relieved that Ravel’s plan, for the time being, had been foiled. “Then that is treason,” he murmured, knowing all too well what the four men’s fates would be. “Do we consider the royal family to be safe from Ravel for the moment then?”
The lieutenant considered this for a moment before nodding slowly. “Yes,” he said quietly. “I believe that they are safe from Ravel for the time being, although there is certainly not an end to the danger that Ravel poses. We must discover him, Carroway.”
Nodding, Edward rubbed his chin for a moment, thinking hard. “He will not be pleased that his plan has been discovered and the men removed,” he muttered, seeing the lieutenant’s eyes flare with a sudden awareness. “He could behave rashly.”
“Or he could attempt to remove you and any of the others who work under us,” the lieutenant replied, a dark frown on his face. “You had best be on your guard, Carroway.”
Feeling a slight twinge of worry in his heart, Edward thrust it aside at once. “Ravel has known who I am for some time,” he said, trying to remove his fear entirely. “He has always had the opportunity to remove me from the Earth should he wish to but, as yet, he has not made any attempt to do so.”
“He has left you those buttons,” the lieutenant countered swiftly. “He enjoys toying with you, Carroway. He enjoys proving himself to be the victor in all things. He likes to see you scurry about in an attempt to find him. I would state that Ravel, whoever he is, likes the chase that comes with your investigations. The enjoyment he finds is escaping from you and leaving you the button should not be forgotten. The man has a dark mind and an even darker spirit. I do not think that he will hesitate to remove your life from you if he is given the opportunity, not when you have foiled what has been a very large and important plan.”
What Lieutenant James said did make sense, Edward had to admit. He had often wondered why Ravel had never sent a man to kill him, but now that the lieutenant suggested that the fellow enjoyed watching Edward’s efforts come to nothing, he felt a sudden understanding crash into his mind. This time, Edward had not failed. With the help of Miss Wells, he had discovered the truth about Ravel’s plans and, in doing so, had put an end to them. The four men involved would be hung for treason and a much closer watch would be put on everyone who worked for the king. It was wise to expect that there might now come some form of retribution.
“You must be on your guard,” the lieutenant finished, as Edward’s frown deepened. “Even this evening, watch your step when you are in the midst of society. You cannot tell where this Ravel might appear from.”
“I shall,” Edward promised, realizing that it was time for him to call upon Miss Wells and her family so that they might attend the soiree together. “I am glad that the royal family is safe, Lieutenant. It is a relief to know that they are in no present danger and that our concerns as regards the French are, for the moment, at an end.” He got to his feet and shook the lieutenant’s hand firmly. “I shall ensure that Miss Wells remains out of Ravel’s clutches.”
“As you yourself must do also,” the lieutenant repeated firmly. “Good evening to you, Carroway. And take care.”
* * *
The evening was already beginning to draw in and Edward found himself quite enjoying the quietness of the London streets. He had hailed a hackney to take him to the townhouse but had realized that he was a trifle early and so had asked it to stop some streets away so that he might walk. The warnings of the lieutenant were still ringing in his ears as he began to make his way towards the house, knowing that he had to be on his guard.
Ravel might be anywhere.
The thought of seeing Miss Wells again, however, took some of his nervous anticipation from him. The moments they had shared after dinner last evening had taken his breath away and even now, just thinking of it had filled him with both shock and delight. Miss Wells had asked him to call her “Titania” and even that particular intimacy had left him astonished. The words he had spoken to her, confessing his feelings and his growing admiration of her had not ever meant to be said, for he had thought himself almost foolish in his desire to grow closer to her. However, something about Titania had forced those words from his lips, making him speak to her with such truthfulness that it had felt as though a great weight rolled from his shoulders as he did so.
Titania had, in turn, told him that she too was filled with emotions that she could not quite express. It was utterly astonishing that such a beautiful, vibrant young lady could ever be drawn towards a gentleman such as him, but he did not doubt her words, not even for a moment. The way she had spoken of Lord Huckleby, the way she had admitted to him that she had turned from the earl and towards him, had left him in no doubt that she spoke the truth.
A sudden sound had him freezing in place, realizing with a sudden sense of dread that he had quite lost all awareness of his surroundings. Having let his mind fill with thoughts of Titania, he had forgotten to pay close attention to his own surroundings. Cursing silently under his breath, he turned around – only for something hard to slam into one side of his face.
Staggering backwards, Edward tried to get his bearings, tried to grasp at something to help him stand up but found himself falling backwards. His back slammed into a set of iron railings, forcing him to stay upright. Another blow hit him hard on the other side of his face, and he let out a shout of pain, his fists flailing out around him as he tried to defend himself.
“You have gone too far this time, Carroway!”
The voice was familiar, but Edward could not quite place it.
“I was so very close, and you had to step in my way.”
Something warm was trickling down over his eyes and Edward wiped at it futilely, trying to make out the man in front of him, only to see that the man had covered his face with something, save only for his eyes.
“Ravel,” Edward breathed, trying to find the strength within himself to stand upright but still feeling disorientated and sick. “You shall not defeat us.”
The man did not deny the name but laughed harshly, mocking him loudly. Edward winced as he managed to grasp onto the iron railings, pushing himself up.
“This means nothing,” Ravel said, pulling something out from his waistband – and with horror, Edward realized that it was a knife. The warnings from Lieutenant James suddenly burst to life, making Edward aware that he was now about to fight for his life. “You shall not be permitted to continue getting in the way of my plans, old boy,” Ravel mocked, sounding every bit the English gentleman. “I am afraid that it is the end for you now. I have enjoyed our little game, but you have become a little too close and I will not let you continue on.” So saying, he lunged forward with his knife, but Edward, having regained a little strength, dodged out of the way and stood, breathing hard, on the pavement.
“Good gracious, we are going to have a little fun, are we not?” Ravel chuckled, advancing slowly upon Edward. “You do not think that you are going to be able to defeat me now, do you? Not when you have so little to defend yourself with and certainly no one to turn to – not even to that pretty little Miss Wells that you have taken a liking to.”
It was as though the sound of Titania’s name on Ravel’s lips sent a fresh fire bursting through Edward. His rage grew steadily as he hunkered down into a fighting stance, knowing that he had to do everything he could to both defend himself and attempt to capture Ravel. He would not be made a mockery of any longer.
“You have hidden yourself in plain sight, have you not?” he grated, as Ravel took another step. “But even still, you are nothing but a coward. You hide your face from someone you intend to put an end to.” He allowed his tone to become mocking. “Why is that, Ravel? Do you fear that I might succeed in defending myself? Do you think that you shall have to run from me, as you have before?”
Ravel’s eyes narrowed, and—without warning—he lunged forward, forcing Edward to dodge out of the way, only to feel pain slice through his shoulder as h
e did so. As hard as he could, he swung his fist in Ravel’s direction, hitting him squarely in the eye. Ravel staggered backwards, a shout of pain on his lips, and Edward did not hesitate but moved forward at once, ignoring the pain in his side and striking Ravel hard again. Ravel fell backwards, the knife spinning out of his hand and landing on the cobbled streets. The cloth covering the man’s face slipped, but before Edward could do any more, before he could reach for the cloth and grasp at it to reveal the man’s face in its entirety, a shout came from behind him.
“You there!” came an indignant voice. “What do you think you’re doing?”
A man Edward did not know hurried past him, kicking the knife even further away from Ravel as the man struggled to his feet. “What in heaven’s name is going on?”
Edward groaned aloud, the pain in his side burning hotter as, to his immense frustration, Ravel picked himself up and, with a shout of defiance, ran away from Edward and melted into the darkness.
“Did he get you?” the stranger asked, as Edward slumped to the ground, his back against the railings and one hand pressed tightly to his side. “Goodness. Listen, let me just go get you some help.”
“That house there,” Edward croaked, the pain in his head from where Ravel had hit him beginning to cloud his mind. “Ask for Miss Titania Wells. She will come at once.” The words seemed heavy on his lips, making him struggle to speak clearly as he closed his eyes, hearing the man say something that he could not quite make out.
Doubt and frustration plagued his mind. He had been so desperate to capture Ravel, so determined to finally have him dragged from his security and into England’s strong arms, that to know that he had escaped yet again was utterly devastating. He suddenly felt quite hopeless, blackness surrounding him as he accepted the pain that ran through him. He drew it close to himself. Unconsciousness beckoned him, and he went to it willingly, wanting to lose himself in the darkness completely.
“Carroway?”
The voice of Titania Wells pulled him away from the inky blackness, forcing him to move, to speak, to do something to reassure her that he still lived.
“Lord Carroway!” Titania’s voice was urgent, her hands settling on his face. “Whatever happened? Are you hurt?”
The man who had come to Edward’s rescue muttered something about Edward’s side, and before Edward had the strength to say anything, Titania gasped aloud and let out a soft cry.
“We must get him indoors at once,” she said urgently, grasping his hands tightly. “Get the footmen and the maids and have him brought inside.”
The sound of Miss Merry Wells’ voice then came to Edward’s ears, sounding just as horrified as Titania. Edward groaned, feeling Titania’s gentle hands cup his face as he did so.
“You are injured, Lord Carroway,” he heard Titania say, struggling to get his eyes open. “I will take you into the house. You will be looked after there. I shall send for a surgeon at once.”
Edward forced his eyes open with an effort, looking blearily into Titania’s face as her features slowly came into view. “Ravel,” he muttered, seeing her eyes widen. “He was here.”
“Well, he is not here now,” Titania replied swiftly, as footmen began to hurry around him. “You are quite safe, Carroway.”
The darkness was beckoning him again, and Edward wanted desperately to go into it, but his mind was urging him to remember something of import, to tell Titania something that would make all of the difference once he had recovered. Her hand was now on his, and he held it with as much strength as he could, his mind trying to pull itself out of the fog that held it.
“Knife,” he muttered, suddenly remembering. “Find it. Please.”
“I will,” Titania said gently, squeezing his hand. “I must go now. You will be taken inside, and I will return to you in a moment.”
Edward wanted to say more; he wanted to ask her to stay but his lips would not move no matter how hard he tried. His eyes closed, his body going limp as he gave himself up to unconsciousness, the pain running through his body finally ceasing.
Chapter Fourteen
Titania had been sitting idly by the fire in the drawing room, waiting for Lord Carroway to arrive and feeling such a sense of excitement within her that she had felt the urge to begin to pace up and down the room in the hopes of settling her spirits somewhat.
Having just been about to do such a thing, it had come as something of a surprise to hear that a gentleman was waiting to speak to her at the door of the house and that he was most insistent, stating that it was an urgent matter that required her attention at once.
Hurrying down the staircase, Titania saw the man standing in the threshold, his hat in his hands. She did not recognize him, taking in his short stature, thinning grey hair, and rather thick moustache.
“Yes?” she asked, moving quickly towards him. “Is there something that I can help you with, sir?”
The man looked at her, shifting from foot to foot. “There is a gentleman just outside this door who is asking for you,” he said by way of explanation. “He’s been hurt rather badly, but insisted that I speak to Miss Titania Wells.”
Titania hesitated for a moment, trying to sort out in her mind what the gentleman meant. The warnings about Ravel rang in her mind, making her wonder if this was some sort of plot.
“He’s been stabbed, I think,” the gentleman continued, making to walk towards the open door as though she should follow him. “He was asking for you, Miss Titania Wells, and I said I would fetch you. I think he’ll need a doctor.”
Titania drew in a long breath and looked up at the butler, who was eyeing the man with a good deal of suspicion. “Do attend with me if you please,” she murmured, seeing the butler nod his head at once. “It may be nothing of importance, but I still think that I…” She trailed off as she walked down the stone steps, her heart in her throat as she made out a slumped figure of a gentleman lying back against the railings. His dark hair was brushed over his face as his head remained low over his chest and, with a start, Titania realized that it was none other than Lord Carroway.
“Footmen, at once!” she exclaimed, turning to the butler in horror. “And send for a surgeon. At once. Have a room prepared for him.”
“A-at once,” the butler stammered, his face a little pale.
“And fetch my sister and Mama,” Titania called over her shoulder, hurrying towards the prone form of Lord Carroway, panic filling her. “Tell them it is Lord Carroway.”
Her hands were trembling as she reached for him, kneeling on the dirty street and caring nothing for her new gown. “Carroway,” she exclaimed, suddenly afraid that he might be cold to her touch but forcing herself to press her hands to his face regardless. “Lord Carroway! What happened? Are you hurt?”
Seeing his hand pressed to his side and how he struggled to pull himself from unconsciousness, Titania closed her eyes tightly for a moment, forcing herself to remain as calm as she could. Lord Carroway needed her assistance, else he might succumb to what was an obvious injury. His hand slipped to reveal the growing stain across his shirt and she caught her breath, feeling a shudder run through her.
How she managed to get through the next few minutes without collapsing or feeling herself drawing near to fainting, Titania was not quite certain. However, as she watched Lord Carroway being brought into the house, with Merry and Lady Whitehaven at the door, standing as two horrified marble statues, Titania felt herself fill with a sudden, fierce resolve. Edward had managed to tell her that Ravel had been the one to do this to him, and she was not about to draw back in fear from such a man. No, instead she was determined to help Edward in any way she could so that Ravel could be brought to justice and the difficulties he brought to Edward gone forever.
The knife.
Swallowing hard, Titania looked all about her for the knife that Edward had asked her to find. The knife that had been thrust into his side, the one that would be covered in his blood. It took her some minutes to find it, but eventually she saw
it glinting in the dull lantern light, and she forced herself to reach for it. Picking it up carefully by the handle, she tried not to shudder as she held it up to the lantern light, seeing the pearl handle and the long, thin blade. Why Carroway wanted it, she did not know, but perhaps, she thought, as she hurried inside, he might be have seen it before and therefore he would be able to discover the truth about Ravel.
Hurrying back inside, Titania saw her mother wringing her hands as she waited for her, clearly upset by all that had occurred.
“Whatever do you have there, Titania?” Lady Whitehaven exclaimed, her face ashen. “Surely it cannot be…”
“Lord Carroway bade me fetch it, Mama,” Titania said softly. “I must do as he requests.”
Her mother closed her eyes tightly but gestured her to hurry inside. “Close the door and bar it,” she instructed the butler, opening her eyes again as Titania set the knife down on a white cloth that one of the footmen held out for her. “Make sure that those who enter are known to us. It may be that whoever has attacked Lord Carroway may attempt to do so again.”
“I do not think they will, Mama,” Titania said, trying to reassure her as she handed the now cloth-covered knife to one of the footmen, bidding him to take it to Lord Carroway’s bedchamber. “It would be futile to even attempt it.”
“Regardless,” Lady Whitehaven replied, her voice a little shrill. “We must remain vigilant.” She drew near Titania and, unexpectedly, drew her into her embrace. “Goodness child, I was worried for you.”
Titania leaned into her mother, feeling tears prick at her eyes. “I am worried for Carroway, Mama.”
Lady Whitehaven let out a long breath and looked down fondly at Titania. “You care for him, do you not?”