Authors: Amanda Quick
“Yes. Morgan was also a bastard. He was the offspring of the heir to an earldom and the daughter of country gentry. His mother died in childbirth. His father ignored his existence but his mother’s family saw to it that he was
educated as a gentleman. I do not think that Morgan ever forgave either of his parents.”
“He blamed them for depriving him of his proper station in life?”
“Yes.”
“Was it only the bond of your mutual lack of legitimacy that connected you to Morgan Judd?”
“At first, yes.” Baxter watched a carriage pass in the street. “But Morgan and I shared something else as well. Something that was even more binding. An interest in chemistry.”
“I believe I begin to understand.”
“At Oxford, they called us the Two Alchemists. We spent every waking moment in the study of chemistry. We set up a laboratory in our lodgings and used our clothing allowances to purchase glassware and equipment. When the others met to drink coffee and read poetry in the evenings, Morgan and I conducted experiments. We lived and breathed science.”
“What happened?” Charlotte asked.
“We drifted apart after Oxford. We corresponded for a time. Exchanged news of the results of our chemical work. But after a while we simply lost contact. Morgan lived in London for a while but we rarely encountered each other.”
“There is more to that part of the story than you have told me,” Charlotte said gently.
“You are perceptive. The truth is that, in addition to chemistry, Morgan had … other interests, which I did not share. Those interests became increasingly important to him after Oxford. He grew obsessive where they were concerned.”
“What sort of interests?”
“He was drawn to the worst hells and the most unpleasant
brothels. As time went on, his tastes in such things grew more jaded and debauched. There was something in him that fed on the darker side of life.”
“No wonder your friendship failed.”
“He also became keenly interested in the metaphysical and the occult sciences. At first those subjects were a game to him. He toyed with them in the manner of the Romantic poets. But by the time he left Oxford, it was all much more than an amusing diversion. He had begun to talk of fulfilling his true destiny.”
“Destiny.” Charlotte repeated the word in a soft, troubled voice. “I vow, the word haunts me.”
Baxter turned slowly around to face her. “I saw him briefly on the street once several years ago. He told me that I was a fool because I had not used my knowledge of chemistry to forge a grand destiny for myself.”
“You said that you thought he was dead. What happened to him?”
“Do you recall my small adventure on behalf of the Crown?”
“Baxter, are you telling me that was connected to Morgan Judd?”
“Yes. He was working for Napoleon. Creating lethal chemical vapors intended to be used against our people. I used our past friendship to convince him that I wished to work with him. I told him that I had changed my mind about forging a great destiny.”
“I see.”
“I betrayed him,” Baxter said. “I told him that I wanted to share the wealth and power that Napoleon had promised. But once I had verified what he was about, I destroyed his laboratory and notes. There was a terrible explosion. I barely escaped with my life.”
“The acid,” she whispered.
“He threw it at me in the course of the struggle.”
“Dear heaven. He could have blinded you.”
“Yes, well, I was trying to ruin him at the time.”
“He deserved it.” Charlotte paused. “You believed him dead in the explosion?”
“I was certain of it. A body was found two days later. Burned beyond recognition. But Morgan’s rings were on the fingers of the corpse. There was no reason not to think that it was Judd who had perished.”
“It is very strange.” Charlotte’s voice was so low that it was barely audible. “But I am almost convinced that I once encountered Morgan Judd myself.”
He turned to look at her. “The monster in the hall outside Ariel’s door?”
“Yes.” She shuddered and hugged herself very tightly as though she had suddenly become very chilled. “That night he asked me if I believed in destiny. The man in the black domino who gave me the rose asked the same question.”
“Bloody hell.”
“But the speech of the two men was so vastly different.” Charlotte searched his face. “The monster I met five years ago had a voice that could have lured one down into hell.”
“That is the thing that makes no sense.” Baxter took off his eyeglasses and plucked the handkerchief from his pocket. “Morgan Judd’s voice was a well-tuned instrument. There is no other way to describe it. When he read poetry aloud, his listeners were enthralled. When he spoke, heads turned to listen. He could have given Kean competition on the stage had he chosen to tread the boards.”
“But the magician’s voice is just the opposite. It
makes me think of shattered glass.” Charlotte frowned. “Although it is strangely fascinating in a bizarre fashion.”
“If I am right and we are dealing with Morgan Judd, then there are two possible explanations for the change in his voice.”
“What are they?”
“The first is that he is deliberately manipulating it so that he won’t be recognized.”
Charlotte shook her head. “I don’t think that is the case. You would have to hear him to understand. His is a voice that has been damaged.”
“Then we must consider the second possibility.”
“What is that?”
“I did not escape that explosion and fire unscathed.” Baxter finished polishing his eyeglasses. “I was marked for life. Perhaps Morgan was also.”
“I don’t understand. Miss Post said nothing about scars or injuries when she described him to us. She said that he was as handsome as Lucifer himself. Except for his voice.”
“There were many unusual and dangerous chemicals in Morgan’s laboratory that night,” Baxter said. “Who knows what caustic vapors were released during the explosion and fire?”
“Do you think that some of them might have been powerful enough to affect a man’s throat if he inhaled them?”
“It’s possible.” Baxter pushed his eyeglasses back onto his nose. “Whatever the case, we know that the magician is dangerous. He killed Drusilla Heskett and he tried to murder Miss Post and young Norris.”
“Baxter, he knows that we are investigating him.”
“Yes. On two occasions he tried to discourage our
alliance by attacking your trust in me. By now he must know that he has failed.”
“He most certainly has.”
Baxter smiled faintly. “You do me a great honor, Charlotte.”
“Nonsense. I deal in fact.”
What had he expected? he wondered. Had he really thought that she would tell him she believed in him because her passion for him was so deep? He was turning into an idiot.
He cleared his throat. “Yes, well, I appreciate your support, nonetheless. We must hope that Morgan will assume he is safe for the moment.”
“Because he will believe that the only person who can identify him is dead?”
“Yes, but there is no way to know how long we can continue to make him think that Juliana Post expired from the effects of the incense.”
Charlotte drummed her fingers on the back of the sofa. “We must act quickly.”
“I shall arrange to take a look around the upper floor of The Green Table tonight. In the meantime, we must continue to behave as if nothing out of the ordinary has occurred. It is imperative that we give no sign to indicate that we are any closer to identifying the killer now than we were yesterday.”
“I assume that means we must attend the usual number of levees and soirees this evening.”
“Yes. And your sister and my aunt must also continue with their customary routine. But I am going to take steps to make certain that all of you are well guarded.”
Charlotte glanced at him in surprise. “What do you mean?”
“I shall hire a pair of Bow Street Runners. One to
keep an eye on you, Ariel, and Aunt Rosalind while the three of you are out this evening. The other to keep watch on this house.”
She gave him a wan smile. “I will not argue with you.”
“I cannot tell you how relieved I am to hear that.”
“But,” she added quickly, “I really do believe that I can be of assistance to you tonight when you search the premises of The Green Table.”
“No. I forbid you to accompany me and that is final.”
“But, Baxter, you must take someone with you. I won’t hear of you going in there alone.”
Anger, fueled by fears for her safety, swept through him. “Charlotte, this is a deadly affair. You will do as I tell you. There will be no further discussion of the matter.”
“Really, Baxter, you are behaving abominably. You have no right to make every decision. I am the one who launched the investigation and I will not tolerate your high-handed, arrogant manner. You are not my husband, you know.”
Baxter sucked in his breath. “I am very well aware of that, Miss Arkendale. I am only your lover, am I not?”
Someone moved in the parlor doorway. Baxter turned quickly and saw Hamilton standing there.
“I beg your pardon,” Hamilton said. He looked embarrassed. “I told your housekeeper I could announce myself. Am I interrupting?”
“Not at all,” Charlotte said. “Do come in, Hamilton. Ariel is out at the moment but I expect her very shortly.”
Hamilton moved hesitantly into the parlor. “Actually, I came in search of Baxter. His butler told me that he might be here.”
“What do you want?” Baxter asked. “I’m busy.”
“I understand.” Hamilton’s mouth tightened. “I came to offer my assistance.”
“Baxter is making plans to search the top floor of The Green Table tonight,” Charlotte said.
Hamilton glanced at her and then looked directly at Baxter. “Perhaps I can help. I know my way around the premises, at least as far as the floor where the club members gather.”
“I do not require your assistance,” Baxter said swiftly.
Hamilton’s expression tightened.
“Baxter, pray consider his offer,” Charlotte said. “Your brother’s knowledge of the club premises would be extremely useful.”
Baxter flexed his hands. “You don’t understand.”
“Of course I do,” she said crisply. “You feel bound by your oath to your father. You promised to look after Hamilton, not put him in harm’s way.”
“Hell’s teeth, I’m not a child,” Hamilton snapped. “I don’t need a nanny.”
“Quite right,” Charlotte said. She turned to Baxter. “I’m certain that your father did not intend for you to protect Hamilton all of his life. He wanted his heir to mature into manhood.”
Hamilton threw her a grateful look. Then he glared at Baxter. “For God’s sake, I’m two-and-twenty. When is someone going to notice that I am already a man?”
Baxter gazed at him for a long moment. His father’s dying words rang in his head.
I know I can trust you to look after Hamilton
.
“Your knowledge of the club might prove useful,” he conceded reluctantly. “But the situation is not free of risk.”
“That bloody magician very nearly got my best friend killed this morning,” Hamilton said fiercely. “Who
knows what he will do next? I have a right to help expose him.”
Baxter glanced at Charlotte. To his surprise, she had nothing to say. She inclined her head a fraction of an inch in silent encouragement.
When did a boy become a man? Baxter wondered. He did not know the answer because he could not recall ever having been a child. It seemed to him that he had been obliged to uphold the responsibilities of an adult all of his life.
“Very well,” he said quietly. “We shall make our plans. For God’s sake, don’t tell your mother.”
Hamilton’s tense features relaxed into the fabled Esherton grin. “Never. You have my oath on it.”
I
hope I do not regret this,” Baxter said later that night.
He stood beside Charlotte at the edge of the dance floor. The Hawkmore affair was a crush. It would be the talk of the ton tomorrow. Tonight, it offered perfect cover.
If Morgan Judd employed spies, they would find it difficult to keep track of anyone in this throng. With luck, no one would even notice when he and Hamilton slipped away to depart for The Green Table.
“I know it was not easy for you to accept Hamilton’s offer of assistance,” Charlotte said. “But this is a perfect opportunity for you to show him that you have faith in him.”
“He still seems so damnably young in so many ways. The very fact that he got involved in The Green Table club is proof that he’s hardly mature.”
“I suspect that Hamilton has learned much from this
experience. It’s obvious that Norris’s brush with death had a very sobering effect on him.”
“I cannot deny that. Nevertheless—”
“Look at the bright side, Baxter. Taking Hamilton with you tonight gives you the ideal excuse for refusing my assistance in the venture.”
Baxter smiled in spite of his uneasy mood. “You have a succinct way of summing up a situation, my dear. I wondered why you dropped your demands to accompany me. Now I see that you simply could not pass up the opportunity to help forge a brotherly bond between Hamilton and myself.”
“The bond already exists. You have honored it even as you have denied it.” She fixed him with very serious eyes. “Have a care tonight, Baxter.”
“I’ve told you often enough, it’s not my nature to take foolish risks.”
“No, indeed, you prefer to take calculated risks. To my mind, they are far more dangerous.” She touched the sleeve of his coat. “I shall wait up for you.”
“There is no need. I’ll call upon you in the morning to tell you what we discovered, if anything.”
“No. Please come to see me tonight when you’ve accomplished your task. I do not care how late it is. I will not sleep until I know that you and Hamilton are safely away from The Green Table.”
“Very well.” He looked down at her gloved hand resting on the black fabric of his coat. A flash of intense sensation went through him.
She cares
.
For all her wariness of the male sex, Charlotte seemed to trust him. And for all his years of self-imposed solitude, he suddenly knew that he would be very lonely when Charlotte went out of his life.