Late for the Wedding (5 page)

He was putting her off again, she thought. But this was not the moment to argue the point.

“Very well, but mark you, sir, I do intend to obtain a proper explanation from you at the earliest possible opportunity.”

She found herself speaking to thin air. Tobias was already outside in the hall, moving toward the staircase.

She was about to follow him, but something made her glance once more around the room they had just finished searching. Her eyes went to the night table. A pale wedge of moonlight illuminated the objects on the surface. It seemed to her that something had changed in the arrangement of the items.

In the next breath she realized what the difference was. The ring was gone.

An uneasy sensation fluttered across her nerves. Tobias was no thief. He had taken the ring for some very good reason, one that he had chosen not to confide to her or to Beaumont.

Her partner had been acting in an exceedingly odd manner since his conversation with Aspasia Gray.

“I really do not care for that woman,” she said aloud to the empty room.

Chapter 5

The servants’ floor mirrored the same scene of confusion, curiosity, and excited dread that Lavinia had seen on the lower floors. Small groups of people hovered in the narrow, low-ceilinged corridor, talking in soft voices.

At the sight of Lavinia and Tobias, all conversation ended abruptly. Everyone turned to look at the intruders from the guest floors.

Tobias focused on the nearest person, a young maid in her nightclothes.

“Where are the stairs to the roof?” he demanded.

The girl gasped and went as still as a rabbit confronted by a wolf. She gaped at Tobias, eyes widening with fear. She made several attempts to speak but only managed a meaningless stammer.

“The roof, girl,” Tobias repeated, voice accented with faint echoes of impending doom. “Where is the bloody staircase?”

Her companions retreated rapidly, leaving her to face Tobias alone.

“Puh-puh-please, sir—” The girl stopped altogether when Tobias loomed closer. She looked as if she was about to burst into tears.

Lavinia sighed. It was time to take charge.

“Enough, sir.” She stepped between Tobias and the maid, who was now trembling visibly. “You are terrifying her. Allow me to deal with this.”

Tobias came to a halt, clearly annoyed at having been deprived of his prey. He did not take his icy gaze off the shivering girl.

“Very well,” he growled to Lavinia. “But be quick about it. There is no time to waste.”

She did not blame the poor maid, Lavinia thought. Tobias was extremely intimidating at the moment. His attitude tonight put her in mind of the first time she had met him.

She recalled the occasion quite vividly. On that fateful night in Rome, he had swept into the small antiquities shop she and her niece, Emeline, had operated and proceeded to smash every statue in sight. She had thought at first that he was a madman, but then she had seen the chilling intelligence in his eyes and realized that he knew precisely what he was about. Somehow that had only made him seem all the more menacing.

“Calm yourself,” she said to the maid. She fingered the silver pendant at her throat and spoke in the low, soothing tones that she used when she wished to induce a light mesmeric trance. “Look at me. There is no need to be afraid. All is well. No need to be afraid. There is nothing to fear.”

The girl blinked once or twice and tore her anxious gaze away from Tobias’s implacable face. She stared at the pendant.

“What is your name?” Lavinia asked gently.

“Nell. My name is Nell, ma'am.”

“Very good, Nell. Now, where is the staircase that leads to the roof?”

“At the end of the hall, ma'am. But Drum has instructed the staff not to go up onto the roof. He’s afraid someone might fall. The wall is very low, y'see.”

“I understand.” Out of the corner of her eye, Lavinia saw Tobias move off down the hall, heading toward the staircase. She was about to follow, but she paused for one last question. “Do you know all of the members of the household staff, Nell?”

“Yes, ma'am. We all come from the village or one of the farms.”

The girl was talking freely now. There was no need to hold her attention with the pendant. Lavinia stopped manipulating the necklace.

The maid blinked again and raised her eyes to meet Lavinia's.

“Are you acquainted with a maid who is somewhat taller than yourself and perhaps a few years older? She has very bright blond hair. Lots of heavy corkscrew curls. This evening she wore a large cap trimmed with a blue ribbon. It looked new and it had a brim that was much wider than yours.”

“A new cap with a blue ribbon?” Nell seized on what was evidently the most important aspect of the description. “No, ma'am. If one of us was lucky enough to get a new cap, we’d all know about it, I can tell ye that much.”

“Are any of your companions tall and blond?”

“Well, Annie’s tall but her hair is dark. Betty’s got yellow hair but she’s shorter than me.” The girl’s features knotted with concentration. “I can’t think of anyone quite like the girl you described.”

“I see. Thank you, Nell. You’ve been very helpful.”

“Yes, ma'am.” Nell gave a tiny curtsy and cast an uncertain glance down the hall at Tobias, who was opening a door. She swallowed uneasily. “Will sir be wanting to ask more questions?”

“Don’t be alarmed. If he wants to talk to you again, I will be sure to accompany him.”

Nell looked relieved. “Thank ye, ma'am.”

Lavinia went swiftly down the corridor. By the time she got to the staircase door, Tobias had already disappeared.

Lacking a candle, she was obliged to feel her way up the narrow flight of steps. But when she reached the top, the door was open.

She stepped out into the moonlight and saw Tobias at the low wall. He was looking down into the gardens. She walked toward him.

“Is that the place where Fullerton fell?” she asked.

“Yes, I think so. There are marks in the dirt on the wall here. Do you see them?”

He raised the candle to angle the light across the barrier. There were several smears in the dust, soot, and grime that caked the stone. They certainly appeared to be traces left by a man grasping desperately to keep himself from plummeting to a certain death. A chill went through her.

“Yes,” she whispered. “I see.”

“It would appear that the woman lured him up onto the roof.” Tobias paced deliberately along the wall. “You said Fullerton was quite drunk. He would no doubt have been unsteady on his feet. It would not have required much strength to topple him over the edge, merely careful timing.”

“I know that for some reason you have yet to explain you are convinced this was murder,” she said quietly. “But I have seen nothing yet that indicates it could not have been an accident.”

“What of the tall, blond maid?”

She hesitated. “Nell could not think of anyone who matched my description,” she admitted.

He paused at that and looked at her. In the candlelight, his face had a decidedly sinister aspect. She could understand Nell’s reaction. If one were not well acquainted with Tobias when he was on the hunt, she thought, one would be strongly inclined to run for one’s life.

“One of the guests, perhaps,” he said slowly. “Dressed in a costume that she wore to the ball earlier this evening?”

She summoned up the brief glimpse she’d had of Fullerton’s female companion. “I do not think it was a costume that any of Beaumont’s guests would have worn to a ball. It was too ordinary, too realistic, if you see what I mean. The materials were not fine enough for any of the ladies here tonight. The gown was fashioned of a dull, sturdy fabric. The shoes, stockings, and apron looked very much like those worn by Beaumont’s chambermaids.”

“Not a costume, then, but a true disguise,” he said slowly.

“Tobias, I think it is time you told me precisely what is going on.”

He said nothing for a moment, resuming his prowl of the rooftop instead. She knew that he was looking for other signs of what had taken place here a short time ago. She feared that he would attempt to avoid her question.

But when he reached the far corner he began to speak.

“I have told you that during the war I conducted several confidential inquiries for the Crown on behalf of my friend Lord Crackenburne.”

“Yes, yes, I know that you were a spy, sir. Pray get to the meat of the matter.”

“I prefer to avoid the term
spy
when discussing my former profession.” He leaned down to take a closer look at something he saw in the dust. “It has such unsavory connotations.”

“I am well aware that the profession is not considered a proper career for a gentleman. But there is no need for either of us to mince words when we are alone like this. Indeed, you were a spy. I was obliged to engage in trade in order to survive in Rome. Neither of us possesses the sort of past one would wish to have made common knowledge in elevated social circles. But that is hardly important at the moment. Continue with your tale.”

He straightened and stood gazing out into the night. “Bloody hell, Lavinia, I am not even sure where to start.”

“Why don’t you begin by telling me why you took that ring from Fullerton’s night table.”

“Ah, you noticed that, did you?” Tobias smiled a little. “Very observant. You are making great progress in acquiring the skills of your new profession. Yes, I took the damned ring.”

“Why? You are no thief, sir.”

He reached into his pocket and took out the ring. For a moment he examined it in the light of the candle. “Even if I were inclined toward thievery, I would not have willingly pinched this particular bit of jewelry. I took it because I am quite certain that it was left there for me to find.”

Ice melted slowly down her spine.

She walked to where he stood and looked at the ring on his palm. In the flickering candlelight she could make out a miniature gold coffin. Tobias opened the lid with the edge of one finger. A ghastly little death's-head stared up at her from a bed of crossed bones.

“A memento-mori ring,” she said, frowning slightly. “They were quite popular in past eras, although why anyone would want to be constantly reminded of the inevitability of death is beyond me.”

“Three years ago, an aging countess, a wealthy widow, and two gentlemen of means died in a series of what appeared to be accidents and suicides. One afternoon I chanced to engage my friend Crackenburne in a discussion of the events. It occurred to me in the course of the conversation that, in each case, someone had gained substantially from the unexpected demise.”

“You refer to inheritances?”

“Yes. In all four cases. The end result was that several large fortunes, a couple of sizable estates, and a title or two changed hands.”

“What struck you as odd about that? Such things happen when wealthy, titled people die.”

“Indeed. But there were other aspects of the deaths that aroused my curiosity. The two suicides, for example, seemed unlikely to me. Crackenburne, who is always in the know when it comes to the affairs of the ton, was not aware that either of the two men who died in that manner suffered from melancholia or desperately ill health. Neither had sustained any recent financial losses.”

“And the accidents?”

“The aging countess went through the ice that covered a pond while out taking a walk on a cold winter afternoon. The wealthy widow fell down a flight of stairs while alone in her house one night. She broke her neck.”

There was a short silence. Reluctantly Lavinia looked toward the place where it seemed Fullerton had made a frantic attempt to avoid the fall that had killed him.

Tobias followed her gaze and nodded once. “Indeed, her death was not unlike Fullerton's.”

“Continue, sir.”

Tobias resumed his slow pacing. “Crackenburne urged me to look into the deaths. Discreetly, of course. No suggestion of murder had been implied, and none of the families in question would have welcomed one.”

“What did you discover?”

“In the course of making some inquiries into the demise of the widow, I learned that her housekeeper had found a very unpleasant item of jewelry near the body.”

Apprehension made her palms grow cold. “A memento-mori ring?”

“Yes.” Tobias closed his hand tightly around the ring. “The housekeeper had served her employer for many years and was positive that the ring was not part of the widow’s collection of jewels. When I investigated the two suicides, I was told that similar odd rings had been found in the libraries of both men. Neither man’s valet recognized the ring.”

She was suddenly keenly aware of the slight chill in the night air. “I begin to perceive why you are so concerned about Fullerton’s death.”

“A fortnight after I began my inquiries, there was a fifth death. An elderly peer had apparently taken an overdose of laudanum. But this time I learned of the suspicious suicide almost immediately, thanks to Crackenburne’s connections. With his assistance, I was able to get into the house before the body was removed and study the bedchamber where the man had died. I found the ring on his desk. But that was not all I discovered.”

“What else did you learn?”

“There was also some mud on the windowsill. It looked as though someone had climbed into the bedchamber that night, perhaps to tamper with the laudanum. In the garden below the bedchamber, I discovered a scrap of fine black silk that had snagged on a tree branch. I eventually located the shop where it had been sold and got a description of the man who had purchased it.”

“Brilliant work, sir.”

“Other clues came to light.” Tobias paused. “I will not bore you with the rest of the details. Suffice it to say that one thing led to another and eventually I identified the killer. But he realized that I was closing in on him.”

“Did he flee the country?”

Tobias put one foot on the low stone wall and braced his forearm on his thigh. He appeared to be lost in whatever he was looking at on the dark horizon.

“No,” he said eventually. “He considered himself a gentleman who had challenged me to a lethal duel of sorts. When he perceived that he had lost, he chose to put a pistol to his head.”

“I see.”

“I found his collection of memento-mori rings together with his journal of accounts detailing the crimes stored in a hidden safe in his study.”

“Good heavens, he actually kept a journal of accounts?”

“Yes.”

“What of the rings? Why did he leave them at the scenes of his crimes?”

“I believe that the rings were his signature, his way of taking credit for the murders.”

She stared at him, appalled. “You mean he signed his horrid deeds the way an artist signs a painting?”

“Yes. He took pride in his skills, you see. Obviously, he could not risk boasting openly in his club, so he settled for leaving a memento-mori ring among the victims’ possessions.”

“Thank God you realized what he was about and put a stop to his career.”

“The entire affair was hushed up, of course. There was never any direct proof of murder, and none of the wealthy families involved wanted to invite the scandal of an investigation.” Tobias’s voice hardened. “I have often thought that if I had paid closer attention and acted more quickly, I might have saved some lives.”