Playing With Fire (5 page)

"They'll look again in the morning," Jack said when he returned to the parlor after speaking to the detective inspector.

Samuel set down the notebook he'd been reading. "Hopefully it's long gone."

"To terrorize elsewhere?" I shook my head. "Let's hope not."

We moved into the dining room where Tommy served us. As usual, Langley ate in his rooms, attended by Bollard. It was a bleak affair with the events of the day hanging heavily over us.

"We ought to pay for the builder's funeral at the very least," Sylvia said.

Jack agreed. "I'll speak to August after dinner. We should set up a fund for the widow."

I pushed my food around my plate as the others discussed arrangements. It kept their fear away, I suppose, but I couldn't join in. I couldn't stop thinking about what Langley had said—that the invisible creature had been a demon, and it had consumed the souls of the poor Frakingham children.

"What do we know of the dungeon and its…occupants?" I asked during a lull in their conversation.

"Oh, Hannah, do we
have
to talk about it?" Sylvia said on a sigh. "I suppose we do," she added before I could respond.

"We know nothing about demons." I glanced at each of my fellow diners as well as Tommy, standing by the sideboard. "Until we hear from Mr. and Mrs. Beaufort, we ought to concentrate on what we do know, and that is the Frakingham estate and history."

"Freak House," Sylvia muttered. "I hate this place."

"Actually, I like it," I said.

She screwed up her pretty nose. "It's so gloomy."

"It's better than being locked away in the attic at Windamere."

She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Of course it is. I'm sorry, Hannah"

I glanced at Samuel. Although we'd told him about my past at Lord Wade's house, I still felt awkward that he knew the entire story. I didn't want him to think of me as a closeted innocent. I might be in awe of the new things I saw and heard every day since Jack had abducted me and brought me to Frakingham, but I
was
educated and, I liked to think, quite normal. If one didn't take the fire starting into account, and the fact that I was a cured narcoleptic.

"Are there any records?" I asked.

"What sort of records?" Jack said.

"Letters or diaries would be ideal, but it was so long ago that those things are probably lost, if they ever existed. If we could find some records of the children's births, that would be a good place to start. At least then we'll have names."

"I'm not sure what finding any of that would achieve," Sylvia muttered.

"Perhaps nothing, but it has to be better than waiting for Mr. and Mrs. Beaufort to respond. Or would you rather think up names for Jack's and my talent?"

"There's no need for sarcasm, Hannah. I'm capable of doing both."

Tommy cleared his throat. "Mrs. Moore may be aware of any personal documents that have been stored away."

"Excellent," said Samuel. "And Langley may know what was included with the purchase of the house."

Both Tommy and Samuel seemed quite energized by the prospect of seeking out historical documents, but Jack did not. He eyed me carefully. "It may involve looking through the attic," he said quietly. He sat on Sylvia's other side, and she sat next to me, cutting her meat as if she'd not heard his pained tone or seen him wince.

"Honestly, Jack, did you have to mention attics at all?" she said.

I looked past her to Jack and smiled my gratitude. "It's kind of you to worry about me, but I'm not claustrophobic. I'll look forward to seeing what's up there. Shall we begin tomorrow morning?"

"I'll look forward to it," he said.

"I'll wear my oldest dress," Sylvia declared. "I wouldn't want to get dust over anything nice."

***

The police widened their search for the "wild dog" while we began our search through the Frakingham attic for anything that might be linked to the earl who'd locked his children away. I felt a twinge of apprehension as I followed Jack into the dark room with the high vaulted ceilings on the undamaged southern side of the house, but it was soon extinguished. The attic was nothing like the rooms in which I had lived at Windamere Manor. While those walls had been covered with woolen rugs to prevent me setting them alight, they were at least bright and airy. The Frakingham attic was dimly lit and smelled as if it hadn't been opened up in years. It was crowded with chests and trunks, some of them spilling their contents onto the floor, as well as furniture and an alarming number of preserved dead animals.

"I think the previous owner enjoyed hunting," Samuel said, testing the sharpness of a set of antlers with his finger.

Sylvia held her lamp up to a stuffed badger's body perched atop a table. "Thank goodness Uncle saw fit to remove all of these from downstairs."

"And put up your pictures instead," Jack teased. "Lucky us."

Sylvia poked her tongue out at him.

Samuel ran his finger along an old brass lamp base. It came away filthy. "It seems you ladies had the right idea to wear old clothing. I'm afraid we're all going to leave covered in dust."

"Mrs. Moore apologizes for not cleaning up here for some time," Jack said. "I told her not to worry. The areas we do frequent are quite enough for her."

Sylvia sneezed. "Still, it appears as if she hasn't been up here since we moved in. There are cobwebs over everything."

I opened the curtains covering one of the three arched windows, throwing light into the room. Sylvia extinguished her lamp and settled on her knees in front of a carved wooden box. Jack found a chest of drawers to search through, and Samuel picked up a crate full of books. I opened the other curtains, but stopped as I parted the third. The air left my body in a rush.

Jack was at my side in an instant. "What is it, Hannah?"

I pointed out the window. Down below on the gravel drive, Tommy held open the door of a grand carriage. I recognized the escutcheon emblazoned on the side, and the man who emerged was someone I'd seen only rarely but knew even from a distance.

Lord Wade.

"What the bloody hell does he want?" Jack snarled.

Sylvia and Samuel crowded about me. Sylvia's arm snaked around my waist. "Are you all right, Hannah? Do you need to sit down?" Sometimes she could be the sweetest creature in the world.

"I'd like to go downstairs and see what he wants," I said.

All three of them exchanged glances. "I don't know if that's a good idea," Sylvia hedged. "Let Uncle speak to him."

"If Hannah wants to talk to him, then she should," Jack said. "I'm sure she has questions she'd like to ask."

That was quite the understatement. If I wrote down all the questions I had for Lord Wade, I'd have a list as high as the room.

"Will you come with me?" I asked him.

"Of course."

We made our way downstairs. I wish I'd worn something more appropriate than one of Sylvia's old dresses. He was an earl after all. It seemed a silly thing to worry about though.

I heard Lord Wade's voice before I saw him. It was big and powerful, much like the man himself, and carried to us as we approached the small parlor.

"It's been a long time, Langley," he said.

August Langley had already told me he'd known Lord Wade from their time together in the Society For Supernatural Activity. He'd also said he'd given me to Wade when I was a baby to keep me safe from Reuben Tate. Apparently he'd not known I was kept in the attic at Windamere, not until my governess, Miss Levine, had contacted him and asked him to take me back.

"What do you want, Wade?" Langley asked. His tone surprised me. There was no deference to the other man's superiority, no hint of the fact he'd once trusted Wade to take care of me. He spoke to Wade as if he'd done something reprehensible, which he had. He'd locked me away.

Apparently the tone surprised Wade too. He took a moment to answer, and when he did, he sounded less blustery. "I, uh, thought you should know that she's gone." When Langley didn't answer, he added, "The girl you brought to me eighteen years ago. She just…disappeared one day."

Jack and I had reached the door, but I put up my hand to halt him. I wanted to hear what these men had to say before we entered. It could shed some much-needed light on the subject of my past.

"Perhaps she walked away of her own accord," Langley said.

"Why would she do that?"

"How would I know what goes through the mind of a young woman? Did you treat her well?"

Wade's hesitation was telling. "I gave her everything she could possibly need, and I never raised a hand to her."

"Which is as I'd hoped. It's why I gave her to you in the first place. You're a gentleman of integrity." Sarcasm soured the words, but it was impossible to know if Wade detected it or not. He may be oblivious since he wasn't aware that Langley knew I'd been kept in the attic.

"We've heard nothing from her in the weeks since her disappearance," Lord Wade said. "No letters asking for money, not even a note to her friend to tell her she's all right. It's not like her. They were devoted to one another."

I would have challenged him over that if I didn't want to remain hidden. His daughter Violet had been involved in my kidnapping. Miss Levine may have orchestrated it with August Langley, but Vi had been an integral part of the operation. Her betrayal had shattered me. I doubt she'd ever been devoted, as he put it. I had been to her once. Not anymore.

"We ought to consider that her departure wasn't voluntary," Wade said.

"You think Tate took her?"

"Of course I think Tate took her! Why else would I be here? Listen to me, Langley, we have to find her. It's been weeks. He could have done anything by now, be anywhere. I should have contacted you earlier, but I thought…hoped …she'd return. I've been a fool."

"Yes. You have." In a louder voice, Langley said, "You can come in now, Hannah."

I gasped and took a step back. Bollard appeared at the door. If his presence was meant to encourage me, it failed. Or perhaps he was there to catch me if I tried to run away.

"It's all right, Hannah," Jack said. "I'll be with you."

We might not be able to touch intimately, but his presence was enough to fortify my nerves. I gave him a smile of thanks and walked into the parlor. Bollard blocked the doorway as soon as I passed him.

"Not you, Jack," Langley said.

"Bollocks," Jack said and muscled his way through. It had to be said that Bollard stepped aside quite quickly, earning a scowl from Langley.

Lord Wade rose out of his chair. "Hannah! You're safe, thank God."

I'd only seen him face to face a few times in all the years I was relegated to the attic. I'd stared at the top of his head often when he climbed into and out of his carriage far below the window, but it wasn't the same. He was as tall as I remembered and solid across the chest, but the stoop of his shoulders was new. The lines across his forehead and around his eyes also seemed deeper than before. He wasn't quite so intimidating.

"Lord Wade." I curtseyed with my head bowed as Miss Levine had taught us to do.

"What are you doing here?" he blurted out.

"I had her kidnapped from Windamere," Langley said.

"You did what!"

Langley held up his hands for calm. "It's too late for outrage, Wade. You've kept her in the attic for fifteen years, and you waited three weeks before reporting her missing."

Wade sat heavily and smoothed his moustache with his thumb and forefinger. "Hannah…are you all right? Has Langley treated you well?"

"Yes, thank you. I've been free to come and go." More or less. Aside from the first few days of my stay, I'd not been a prisoner at Frakingham. Unlike at Windamere.

Wade had the decency to look sheepish. "Good," he muttered. "Good." He pushed himself out of the chair. "It seems there's nothing else for me to do here. I'll be going."

"You don't want to know why or how I was kidnapped?" I asked. "Come now, my lord, you've had a long journey. Stay and take refreshments with us. Bollard, fetch some tea, please."

Bollard didn't move. I suspected taking orders from me wasn't part of his job or in his nature.

"I don't want tea," Wade said. "As to the why and how, I'm sure Langley has his reasons." The thick, bushy brows crashed together. "Who am I to question his motives? He and Tate always had their little secrets, their mysterious research that no one was allowed to ask them about. You see, Hannah, I'm well aware that August Langley isn't someone who can be idly questioned. Not if one expects a straight answer, that is."

Langley clicked his tongue. "So cynical."

"I know you well."

"People can change over eighteen years."

"Not in my experience."

"Lord Wade," I said, cutting through their squabbling. "You may not wish to know why Mr. Langley kidnapped me, but I'd like to know some things from you. Please sit back down."

Those impressive brows rose again. "I don't like your tone, young lady."

"I did say please."

He grunted but sat.

"Thank you." I had to be careful. I didn't want to raise his ire and discourage any answers he may be otherwise willing to give. "It was Miss Levine who contacted Mr. Langley," I said. "She and Violet wished to be rid of me."

From the shocked look on his face it was clear he didn't know. "Why?" he muttered more to himself than anyone else.

"That's what I'd like to discover."

He leaned back into the deeply cushioned chair and did not meet my gaze for some time. When he did, there was a steeliness in his eyes that hadn't been there before. All shock had disappeared. "She must have thought you ready to leave."

Only a fool would have missed his evasiveness, but I suspected he would not divulge anything to me. I let it slide. The answer to that question wasn't as important as others, and I wanted to save my battles for those.

"Who were my parents?" I asked.

He glanced at Langley. "He didn't tell you?"

So Langley
did
know. I gave him a sharp glare that he accepted with an apologetic nod but no explanation. Sometimes I got the feeling I was an ingredient in a grand experiment that Langley was conducting.