Heart of Brass (37 page)

Hannah’s fingers went to her throat. “Do you like it? Thomas gave it to me. He said it was so I would think of him. I know it was forward of me to accept it, but I couldn’t help myself. Arden, I think he might be the
one
.”

He certainly was, Arden allowed, valiantly trying to keep the contents of her stomach where they ought to be. She prayed that Thomas Clivington was
not
the one—at least not the one she sought.

The cravat pin Clivington had given Hannah was horribly familiar. It was onyx stones set in gold, and it was shaped like a horseshoe.

She had to be wrong. She could see several such pins at any social event. Her dearest friend’s beau was
not
the Debutante Killer.

“You’re
certain
this Clivington is the killer?” It wasn’t that Luke doubted her, but this was a serious accusation.

“No.” Arden pressed her hand to her mouth and then yanked it away. “Luke, it was just the pin. I saw a similar pin through the eyes of those poor murdered girls. I will never forget it. And now I can’t help worrying that the killer is courting my dearest friend!”

They were in his bedchamber. She’d come to him the minute he returned from sparring with Wolfred—whom he truly hoped was not their traitor, because he was starting to like the man. Again.

He stripped off his sweat-soiled shirt, wincing as the muscles in his side pulled. He was healing, but not fast enough for his liking. Wolfred had managed to get in a few blows that never should have landed because of it.

“Have you contacted your inspector?”

“No. I wanted to talk to you first.”

Like a partner. A husband. He doubted she even realized the significance of what she’d just said.

“Your fear could be irrational, or it might be your instincts telling you something.” He tossed the shirt into the laundry-lift in the wall. With the toss of a switch the steam-powered engine lowered the basket of dirty clothing to the laundry room, and also allowed the maids to send laundered items up, eliminating the need to carry heavy baskets up and down stairs. “Did he know the girls?”

“I don’t know.”

“Does he have augmented hands or use that awful hair glue?”

She rubbed the back of her neck. “I don’t know that either, although I have Mrs. Bird inquiring after the former.”

“Birdy?” He frowned. “How would she know?”

Arden looked at him as though he was daft. “She’s a servant. Don’t you know how servants love to gossip about their employers? She was going to discreetly ask Clivington’s housekeeper if she saw her at the market this afternoon.”

Servants and spies. Who would have thought they could be so similar?

“Have Inspector Grant keep an eye on him if Birdy comes back with confirmation. He’s already watching the Fitzhugh fellow, correct?”

His wife nodded. “Yes.” The anxiety and fear in her countenance wrapped around his chest like a vise. He would do anything to make her feel safe—to take the fear away. The depth of his attachment to her made no sense when there was so much of their past he couldn’t remember, but in his heart he knew he would die for her, whether he understood it or not.

“It’s probably not him. Your friend is hardly a debutante, is she?”

That eased the strain in her features. “No, she’s not.”

“There, no reason for concern.”

She began pacing. “What if we can’t prove who the killer is? What if he kills someone else? What if we find him but he gets away? It’s almost impossible to convict a peer.”

“If you find him and he gets away, I’ll make certain he doesn’t hurt any more girls.” He didn’t say how, of course, but there could be little doubt.

Arden went completely still—a deer that’s heard the cocking of a rifle. Any moment she’d bolt.

Slowly, her face turned toward his. Her wide gaze searched his face—probably to see if he was jesting. “Are you serious?”

He should lie. He should say no, chuckle and pretend he wasn’t a madman. “Yes.”

She frowned. “You would do…
that
for me?”

“If you asked it of me. I would do it without hesitation.”

“I…I don’t know if that knowledge is terrifying or arousing.”

“I’m not certain myself,” he replied honestly. He shouldn’t have said anything at all. He wouldn’t blame her if she thought him a complete monster, without any sort of conscience. But it was true. If she asked him to kill, he would do it without an ounce of remorse.

Maybe he was a monster. After all, there was a part of him that was still Five. Had the Company made him a killing machine, or had he always had that potential, just waiting to be unlocked?

“How would you do it exactly?” She glanced away. “Theoretically, of course.”

Was she truly considering it? Or did she merely want to gauge the depths to which he would plummet? “I’d sneak into his home, break his neck and toss him down a flight of stairs—make it look like he fell.”

“An accident. He’d never be able to hurt any more girls.” Arden frowned. “But then no one would ever know what manner of devil he was.”

“Is that really that important?”

That frown turned on him. “Of course.”

“So you’d ruin his family as well as him. That sounds more like vengeance than justice.”

Her cheeks darkened, but she didn’t look away. “Who’s to say that his family aren’t equally evil?”

“That would be like someone thinking you must be as demented as your mother.”

She looked as though he’d slapped her. And this time she did look away. “Someday I could be.” Then she added, “And you’re a bastard for reminding me.”

“Yes. It was a cruel way to make my point and I am sorry for it.”

“But it was a point well-taken,” she replied, no longer angry, it seemed. “It would be wrong of me to punish the killer’s family for his sins. And if we find him I would be eternally grateful if you sent the man straight to the devil, but I would not ask you to become like him. I won’t allow you to become like him.”

Luke was silent for a moment, weighing his next words carefully. “Arden, this man has already ruthlessly killed two girls. I respect the work you do for Scotland Yard, but you should leave the actual apprehension of the bastard to Grant.”

She stiffened. “I thought we agreed that you don’t get to order me about?”

“I’m not ordering, I’m asking. But since we’re on the subject, since I’ve been home you’ve done nothing
but
order me about. Unless English law has changed, you’re as much my possession as this house. I’m the master here.”

Her eyes flashed—russet fire. “Don’t you dare compare me to a…a chair! I am your wife. I am your equal.”

“I would never call you otherwise, but if you expect me to do what you want, you have to be willing to give in to my wishes as well, especially those that involve your safety.”

Her jaw was mulish, but there was an air of sheepishness about her. “I’m not accustomed to having to answer to anyone.”

He smiled. “I’m not accustomed to any of this. I think we’ve muddled through fairly well thus far. Or do you have regrets?”

“If I have any regret it’s that I didn’t ask you to stay with me. I was prideful and foolish, and look what it cost us. We don’t even know each other now.”

That stung, though he knew it wasn’t intentional. A few weeks ago his only goal had been to kill this woman; now he was prepared to kill
for
her. At times he wondered if she’d unmanned him or if he felt all the more a man for having had her devotion.

She drove him to distraction, frustrated him, amazed him and made him want to be better.

Why? What was so special about her that, even when he had no notion of her existence, he got a tattoo that matched hers? The Company had erased his memories, but they hadn’t managed to dig deep enough to get rid of her.

They regarded each other in silence for a moment. How did he measure up under her scrutiny? A man who didn’t want her bossing him around, but would kill for her if she asked.

“Do you think it’s safe to go to the party tomorrow night?”

Luke turned to the armoire and pulled out a clean shirt. “No,” he replied, “but we have to. Both Clivington and Fitzhugh are going to be there. If we’re going to figure out if one of them is the killer, then we need to go.”

She smiled faintly. “We?”

“I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.” He tucked the shirt into his trousers. “You fine with having a partner?”

Arden walked over to him and adjusted the collar of his shirt, smoothing her hands over it and down his shoulders. Her touch soothed him. “Very. We should keep Alastair close as well. He can look out for a Company threat while we keep our eyes on Clivington and Fitzhugh.”

That was a sound plan, provided Wolfred wasn’t the one trying to kill them in the first place. Now Luke would not only have to watch his “friend” but two other ponces as well.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to ensure that he could keep himself and Arden alive.

Chapter 19

Evelyn Stone, Arden discovered later that day, was not a woman who took no for an answer.

“I need to see Lord Huntley,” the doctor insisted, holding her leather bag in front of her with both hands. They were in the library, where Arden had been researching just how much evidence was needed to try a peer for murder. “Director’s orders, Arden. You know I wouldn’t insist otherwise.”

She did know. Evelyn’s vocation elevated her social stature to a degree, as did her reputation for being one of the best doctors in the country, but the fact remained that she was middle class at best. She never seemed to forget that, even when those around her did.

“What’s Dhanya doing, sending you here without warning?”

The darker woman smiled. “I reckon that’s exactly why she sent me, so the two of you wouldn’t have time to prepare.”

Arden sighed. God grant her patience. Reaching for the bottle on the desk, she poured a measure of whiskey into a glass. Luke’s words about how much and why she drank whispered in the back of her mind, but she ignored them. He should be glad for the whiskey. She’d be a raving lunatic without it.

“Can I pour you one as well?” she asked her colleague.

Evelyn shook her head. “Thank you, no. I’ve found drink and medical procedures do not mix.”

“Are you going to be performing a ‘procedure’ on my husband?” She fought to keep alarm from her voice. What if Dhanya had her do something that damaged what memory Luke had?

Full rosy lips parted, and dark eyes took on a sympathetic light. “No. I’m going to ask him a few questions, have him perform a few tasks and then go home because I’ve been wearing these clothes for almost thirty-six hours.”

Arden frowned. “What happened?”

She was answered with a grim expression and head shake. “Nothing I’m at liberty to discuss. Let Huntley know I’m here, my friend. Let’s get this over with as quickly as possible for both of us.”

“Dhanya and I are going to have a little chat about this,” Arden muttered as she removed the earpiece from the phone on the desk. She pressed the button for the stables, where Luke was apparently making a few mechanical improvements to her touring carriage.

“Dhanya’s on brief leave,” Evelyn informed her stiffly. She was always so protective of the other woman.

Arden’s gaze lifted to the doctor’s as she waited for an answer from the stables. “Is she to whom you’ve dedicated the past thirty-six hours?”

Evelyn didn’t respond, and that was answer enough. Enough to alarm Arden and make her forget she was miffed at Dhanya. “Is she going to be all right?”

The other woman gave a curt nod. “For the most part.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“No.” When Arden continued to stare at her, Evelyn sighed. “You did not hear this from me. Dhanya was attacked in her home the night before last.”

Arden stifled a gasp. “Was she harmed?”

The doctor gave her a hard look, one that broke Arden’s heart. “Oh, poor Dhanya. Was it a random break-in?”

“It wasn’t a break-in at all. Her attacker let himself into her house. He had a key. He knew all the security measures.”

“The traitor.”

Evelyn shrugged. “It would seem so, and rumor has it he’s making his move before your husband can turn him over to the authorities. You understand why it’s imperative that I speak to Lord Huntley? The Wardens are on me to find out if he’s remembered anything else—or if he’s still on the Company’s side.”

Arden’s defense of her husband was silenced by a voice in her ear. “’Ello?”

“This is Lady Huntley. Is Lord Huntley still there?”

“Yes, ma’am. Would you like me to fetch him for you?”

“No. Please ask him to return to the house as quickly as possible. Dr. Stone is here to see him. Thank you.” She hung up. “Have a seat, Evie. You’re hovering.”

Her friend eyed the sofa with obvious longing. “I’m afraid if I sit down I won’t be able to get back up.”

“You’re exhausted. I’ll have Mrs. Bird bring you some tea. That will invigorate you.”

Luke arrived at the same time the tea tray did.

“Who is in charge while Dhanya is on leave?” Arden asked Evelyn after passing her a cup.

Evelyn shot a sharp glance at Luke, as though she expected him to suddenly grow horns. He caught the look and returned it with a sardonic smile. “Wonderful, I can finally put my plan of world domination into motion.”

At least the doctor had the grace to look sheepish. “Forgive me. This speculation of a traitor within the W.O.R has us all on edge. Mr. Chiler is taking care of the office as usual, and Lord Wolfred is acting as Director.”

Arden didn’t miss how Luke’s face hardened ever so slightly at the mention of Alastair. Did he still suspect him of being the traitor? Perhaps if she were him she would wonder as well; after all, Alastair had known about Luke’s investigation seven years ago, and he had made a grand effort of looking for him when Luke disappeared. But Alastair’s grief over the loss of Luke had been real, and Arden was certain his loyalty to his country was incorruptible.

But then she’d also been certain that Luke had gone to Rani Ogitani because he loved her. He’d never breathed a word about the woman being suspected of treason, which he must have known. She had doubted him, believed the worst, and had been wrong.