Dueling With the Duke (Brotherhood of the Sword) (3 page)

“Go home,” Potterfield said. “Get some sleep.”

“Permission to go and question Lady Thornton? She might be able to shed some light on the situation, or at the very least tell me where her husband might be.”

“No. It is quite clear that that is not Lord Thornton.” He pointed to the dead man’s body. “There is absolutely no reason to bring Lady Thornton into this situation. She can provide no answers to the investigation.”

Gabriel exhaled slowly, then steeled himself. He didn’t know what the hell had happened tonight, but he knew that if he showed any weakness to Potterfield, he’d earn himself a holiday. “Sir, I know it was Thornton. I know what I saw.”

“Be that as it may, that man”—Potterfield pointed at the body—“is not Thornton.”

Gabriel nodded absently. “I’m going to go ahead and examine the body, and then I’ll head home. My apologies for rousing your butler and keeping you from your own bed.”

Potterfield nodded, then left the room.

Gabriel retrieved some water and a cloth, then stepped back over to the body. He rinsed the head wound, noting immediately that it wasn’t a wound at all, but rather just a smattering of blood. This man had been killed in some other way. He grabbed the scissors and began cutting off the man’s clothing. There in his chest he found the fatal wound, left side, on the upper part of his torso. It was far too large to be a gunshot. This was the mark of some sort of knife. This man had been stabbed to death, not shot. Which meant that as ludicrous as it sounded, someone had, in fact, switched out this body for the one in the park. Thornton had not been working alone. Someone out there knew of Thornton’s plan to assassinate the queen, and they didn’t want the Brotherhood to know of Thornton’s involvement. That meant two things: one, Her Majesty was still in danger, and two, Gabe knew something they’d tried to hide.

Potterfield would not believe him without proof. He knew that. The man did not rely on hunches, ever. Neither did Gabe, for that matter, which was why he was often Potterfield’s choice for sensitive assignments. But this wasn’t a feeling or a hunch. Gabe knew he’d seen Thornton in that park and now knew that someone had traded his body. Thankfully they’d already increased security around Victoria at Buckingham.

Now Gabe had to find proof, which meant that he had to go to Thornton’s townhome. See the Lady Thornton and discover what she knew of her husband’s nefarious activities.

…

Lilith had donned the darkest dress she owned, an old frock that still fit her perfectly well, but which Thornton had forbidden her to wear since it was not as revealing as he demanded. But for the purpose of skulking around London in the dark of night, it would work perfectly.

Before she could travel to Saint Bartholomew’s to retrieve Isabel, Lilith had to secure the funds she’d been saving, which meant breaking into the British Museum. Yes, she could simply wait for morning to go when the doors were open, but it had been difficult enough hiding the first stash of money there. The other two times she’d brought funds, she’d gone in the middle of the night, and things had gone much smoother. No one had inquired what she’d been doing on that ladder for so long.

If Thornton were dead, whoever had been after him would most assuredly come for her. She’d been his wife for nearly six years. People would assume she knew things, knew why her husband had been behaving so erratically over the last several months. She suspected he was being blackmailed, though she had no notion over what or by whom. As far as she knew he had no secrets, or rather he’d always freely shared tidbits with others, held business and political conversations in front of her and the like, simply because he hadn’t believed her capable of doing anything with the information. Perhaps he thought her too stupid. More than likely it was because he thought of her as nothing more or less than the pretty bauble on his arm.

She didn’t know for certain he was dead, but considering he hadn’t been home in a week, it seemed highly likely as he’d never before been away from her that long. She’d seen the threats he’d received. Only two of them, and he hadn’t known she’d found them, and though they hadn’t been blatant, it was evident from the language that someone was quite angry with him. There was no telling what sort of dangerous situation he’d gotten himself into. He wasn’t the most popular man, as he was unkind, but he’d earned his status in London, and people tended to respect him. Or perhaps they feared him.

Either way, as Lady Thornton, she tended to gain entrance anywhere she needed to go. He’d even been so bold as to bring her to a gentleman’s club one evening. That had not gone over well with the other men, and the following day she’d been peppered with questions by some of the other wives, but she’d kept mute about the whole situation. In truth, it hadn’t been anything to get overly excited about, nothing more than a darkly lit room, men smoking and gossiping and drinking too much.

Shortly after that night, Thornton’s behavior had shifted and he’d become increasingly absent, less attentive, and angrier. Initially, she’d wondered if he’d found himself a mistress to occupy his time and desires. But then the first of the threats had arrived. The following day she’d made her way to the museum and hidden her first bit of saved funds. For the last six months she’d saved even more, perhaps not expecting, but preparing for, something like this to happen.

She needed to retrieve Isabel, her niece, and together they would go somewhere and begin a new life. Though Isabel was only her niece by marriage, Lilith had always thought of her as more of a sister since they weren’t that far apart in age, less than a decade. Lilith knew that if she did not care for the girl, no one would. She’d merely disappear, and no one would be the wiser. Eventually her uncle’s funds would dry up, and the school would kick her to the street. Lilith would not allow that to happen. Isabel would have more choices than Lilith had had herself.

She quietly descended the stairs and went into Thornton’s office, since the windows lined the wall facing the street. Millie had assured her she would make certain the young man sent to guard Lilith stayed in the parlor while she went on her errand. If the other man arrived to speak with her, he’d have to wait. She peeled back a curtain to check under the window; this one would not do unless she wanted to lower herself directly into a boxwood shrubbery. Another window revealed the same. Finally, on the third, she found a clear choice, albeit a little higher off the ground than she might prefer.

She unlocked the window, then slid it open, wincing as the glass squeaked. With one last glance at Thornton’s study, she lowered herself out the window.

Chapter Two

After leaving the Brotherhood offices, Potterfield sent Gabe and Ellis to Lord Morton’s house. According to Somersby’s report of what had happened in the park, Thornton, or the would-be assassin, had been shot by Morton. Neither Lord nor Lady Morton was home.

“And you said Somersby had already left town?” Gabe asked.

Ellis nodded. “Gone to prove his affection for my cousin, it would seem.”

“Indeed?” Gabe asked.

“Yes, it would seem that protecting her while she was disguised as Queen Victoria proved too tempting for him,” Ellis said. “Not all of us can endure such vows as yours, Priest.”

Gabe didn’t take the bait; he nodded. His friends never missed an opportunity to jest him about his celibacy. “I suppose Potterfield would have us wait here for Morton,” he said, shifting the subject.

“More than likely, yes.” Ellis eyed him. “But you have a different idea?”

“I do.” Gabe told him about sending the man to secure Lady Thornton so she could be questioned, but how Potterfield had instructed Gabe to stay away from her. Without Thornton’s body, they were not to involve her.

Ellis held up the reins. “Where to?”

Gabe gave him the address, and they traveled in silence through the quiet, dark London streets.

“What are we hoping to discover here?” Ellis asked as he prepared to jump down from the rig.

“Wait,” Gabe whispered. He nodded toward the left side of the house, where sticking out of one of the windows was a pair of legs and a rounded backside. “Tell me that doesn’t mean she knows something about her husband.”

“It’s not what I would call conclusive proof,” Ellis said. “But it certainly presents several questions.”

The person then lowered herself from the window to the ground below. She straightened her skirts and crept to the street, where she climbed into a waiting hack. Gabe would know Lilith anywhere. Her walk, the graceful line of her neck; she was simply not a woman one forgot. Her carriage lurched forward.

“We’re not supposed to be following Lady Thornton,” Ellis said as he snapped the reins. “Potterfield specifically said to walk away from this.”

“Yes, I know, but she is a lady leaving her home at a rather questionable hour,” Gabe said.

“Perhaps she is going to meet a lover.”

The suggestion sparked anger, which Gabe promptly ignored. “She’s smart, so it seems unlikely that she doesn’t know anything about her husband’s activities. If we don’t go after her, we risk forever losing her and whatever information she has. Eventually Potterfield will be able to see that,” Gabe said.

Ellis nodded and drove forward. “Next time, I’d prefer a cover where we can sit in the hack rather than drive it.”

“Duly noted.”

They were quiet for several moments before Ellis spoke again. “How is it that you know the Lady Thornton? From polite society?”

Gabe didn’t particularly want to speak of it, but he knew from experience that Ellis was not likely to drop the conversation if he sensed any hidden details. “You know how my brother died,” he began.

Ellis whistled through his teeth. “She is that woman?” He nodded. “Of course. Rafe dueled with Thornton.”

Gabe inclined his head. The gas lights along the streets of London flickered as they drove behind Lilith’s rig.

“Why is it that we’re following her?” Ellis asked.

Gabe released a breath but kept his gaze locked on the carriage in front of them. “I suspect Thornton to be the man who attempted to assassinate the queen.”

“I received word that the suspect had been killed,” Ellis said.

“Yes, I was called to the park to survey the damage,” Gabe said. “I saw the body, though I haven’t seen Thornton in many years. I’m certain it was him.”

“I sense there is more to the story,” Ellis said.

“Indeed. When I got to the morgue, the body was gone and replaced with someone else’s. Someone who had been stabbed and not shot.”

“You could have been mistaken.”

“Yes, that’s what Potterfield said. It is the most logical conclusion, but I know what I saw.” Damnation, he knew that wasn’t the case. He
had
seen Thornton, and then the bastard had been replaced with someone else. “Even if I was wrong about who the man was, I know the difference between a gunshot wound and a stabbing.”

“Why would someone trade the body?”

“To cover up whom Thornton was working with. Obviously the threat is not gone if someone would risk breaking into the morgue to trade the body.”

Ellis was quiet for a few moments and turned with the carriage in front of them. “Unless Thornton isn’t dead and got up and walked out himself?”

“And replaced his body with someone else’s? That seems even more ludicrous. Besides my own observations after the fact, Somersby’s report was that the man in the park had been shot in the head. No one could survive that,” Gabe said.

“Unless you were mistaken,” Ellis said.

“Yes. Do you think I have not considered that?”

“But you don’t believe it possible.”

“Ellis, how many times have you known me to be wrong? I rarely express my views on anything, but when I do—”

“You’re right,” Ellis finished for him. “I know. For now, I shall believe you, but we can only take this so far.”

Her carriage pulled to a stop in front of the British Museum.

They stopped farther back to avoid being seen and waited.

Lilith descended from the carriage, said something to the driver, and then climbed the steps to the museum.

“They’ve long been closed,” Ellis said.

“Yes. It doesn’t seem to be deterring her.”

“Perhaps she’s meeting someone.”

“I’m going to take a closer look,” Gabe said. He stepped down from the rig and made his way across the street. No good could come from Lilith going to the British Museum in the middle of the night. He followed at such a pace that Lilith was far ahead of him, and he could no longer see her form in the dark. He kept going and saw a side door close, and he knew it was the one she had entered. He debated following her in but ultimately decided to wait outside for her return, knowing she would have to exit through the same door that she’d gone into.

…

Lilith stepped from the carriage and skirted a puddle on her way to the large black door. She slid the key in and turned it, hearing the low, heavy
click
of the bolt sliding free. With one quick glance behind her, she slipped inside. She’d often wondered how her husband had gotten a key to the British Museum, but she’d never had the courage to ask. Every time she’d inquired about his goings-on, he’d first been evasive and then increasingly more annoyed and then threatening.

She crept down the corridor, across the marble floor, and into King George’s library room. The long room boasted floor-to-ceiling bookshelves as far as the eye could see. The story was George IV had paid to have his father’s books housed at the museum so they would be available to the public.

Quietly, she crept to the farthest shelf to her left. She counted the books from left to right and tilted the eighth one down so she could grab it. It had taken her several hours to hollow out this book and three more like it to hide the money. She even had letters ready to be sent to Isabel with perfect instructions on how to locate the secret funds should anything happen to her. As it happened, Thornton had been killed, and now it was up to her to keep his niece protected. Lilith couldn’t remember when the money had become Isabel’s, but at some point that’s how she had come to think of it. Salvation money for Isabel, to save her from a fate that Lilith had endured.

She opened the book and grabbed the handful of bills from inside, stuffed them into her reticule, and replaced the book on the shelf. She followed the same procedure with the other books until her reticule hung heavy.

Freedom.

A notion she hadn’t considered since she’d been but a girl, foolish and eager to leave her oppressive father’s control only to be forced into marriage with a man so similar. But there was no time for pity. Only fools indulged in such worthless behavior. Lilith had learned long ago that action was the only thing that kept her alive. As long as she kept moving, kept doing something, she could survive.

She’d learned that from her Aunt Patience. Lilith had stayed with her widowed aunt for only a short amount of time, but that time had proved invaluable in teaching Lilith things far more useful than skills from finishing school. She’d filled their days with tales of her adventures since she’d gained her freedom, and in the evenings, she gave Lilith instructions on how to survive a marriage made for strictly financial reasons.

She’d given Lilith a small sum of money and told her how to add to the pile so that it would continue to grow. As Patience had put it, you never knew when you might need a sum of money, and you could not count on a louse of a husband to provide it. Since that time, Lilith had been saving small amounts and eventually bringing them here to be hidden. This had been another of Patience’s ideas. Three years ago when Lilith had learned of Patience’s death, on her travels in the Greek isles, she had been devastated.

She retrieved the last of the money and put it in her bag. This was it. Never again would she have to return here. She had the money, and now she would be free.

She made her way back to the front door and then out to the waiting hack. There against her rig leaned Gabriel Campbell. Her heart stuttered at the sight of him, but she chalked it up to surprise. Of all the people she’d expect to seek her out, the Duke of Lynford was not one of them. As far as she knew, he loathed her.

“I believe you were instructed to wait at your house,” he said.

“You? You sent that young man to me?”

“I did.”

“On what authority?” She walked directly to him and then was immediately sorry she had done so.

This close she couldn’t deny that Gabriel cut a handsome figure in his black trousers and overcoat, gleaming spectacles perched on his perfectly aristocratic nose. He looked nothing like his brother. Rafe had been dark, mysterious, and seductive with his raven-black hair and equally dark eyes. At least she’d thought so, until she’d realized he was not mysterious; instead he’d been reckless to the point of foolish. In contrast, Gabriel was lean and athletic with rakish waves in his light brown hair and intelligent hazel eyes that peered back at her from behind his gold-rimmed spectacles. A crooked smile slid into place, giving him an almost mischievous appearance, and again, her heart fluttered erratically.

She shoved aside her observations. Whether or not Gabriel was attractive mattered not to what she was doing. “I believe I asked you a question.”

“Ah, yes,” he said. “You were questioning my authority.”

“Your authority?”

“I see no reason to argue here on the street. I shall escort you home.”

He opened the carriage door and helped her inside. He followed suit, closing the door behind him. “Now then, would you like to tell me what you were doing in there? The museum has been closed for hours.”

She tilted her chin ever so slightly. As the carriage lurched forward, Lilith shook her hands in front of her, a vain attempt to rid herself of the nerves. Damned if Gabriel Campbell hadn’t reentered her life at the most inconvenient time. It was more grist for the mill, she supposed. Nothing in her life had ever been particularly simple. She did her best not to look at him, sitting across from her, no doubt wearing a smug expression.

How was she supposed to protect the funds until she was able to get to Isabel? She had to come up with a way to get him away from her. She could do what she always did: use her wiles to the best of her ability. It had always served her well. It would distract him, and she could slip away. No one ever saw her true nature.

“That is my own private business, and that is a public building. I have every right to be in there.”

“Perhaps, but one might wait until morning to make such a visit. So they didn’t have to burgle the establishment.”

“I did not burgle anything. And I prefer the night to the day,” she said, doing nothing to ease the starch from her voice. She peered out the curtained window of the rig and found the darkened streets useless in determining where they were headed. “Are you simply going to come home with me? Or are we going somewhere else entirely?”

“I told you I would see you home. I am not in the practice of lying.”

She couldn’t help but feel that jab was meant for her.

Several moments passed before he spoke again. “You are looking well,” he said, as if they were nothing more than long-lost friends.

“As are you. How long has it been?” she asked. Then she held her breath and waited for his answer. Gabriel and she had a past, a history. They hadn’t been lovers. No, she’d been courted by his older brother and Thornton at the same time; their competition to win her hand had nearly driven her mad. Her father had made it abundantly clear that there was no choice. A duke would always be preferable to an earl, so therefore she would wed Rafe. But then there had been the duel and the choice had been made for her.

“I believe the last time I saw you, it was the day before your would-be husband killed my brother.”

She winced. There it was. Why had she even asked him that ridiculous question? She’d certainly known the answer. There was no point in addressing the issue. It hadn’t been her fault. She’d been telling herself that for the past six years, although she never quite believed it. Certainly she could have done something to prevent that foolish duel from ever happening.

“What do you want, Gabriel? What is so important that you insisted on seeing me so late in the evening?”

He had been nineteen or twenty the last time they’d seen each other, and time had most assuredly been kind to Gabriel Campbell. He’d already been handsome then, but the man who sat across from her was the very picture of a dashing gentleman. His hair fell in soft brown waves, appearing both wild and restrained at the same time.
Their first meeting had been a lifetime ago, when she’d foolishly thought marriage could be about love and affection instead of money and power.