Secret Night (34 page)

Alter waiting for two days, he could stand it no longer. Using the news that Rand's hearing had been set for the next week and the trial itself for January as an excuse, he went to see Elise. And even knowing she must be feeling either hurt or angry, he could not help the exhilaration he felt at the thought of seeing her. He fairly bounded up the steps to pound the knocker.

The sober butler stood in the doorway to tell him Miss Rand is not receiving today."

“Tell her it is of the utmost import," Patrick unlisted.

“I'm sorry," Graves said stiffly, "but she is not at home to anyone, I'm afraid. However, if you would wish to leave a note, I am sure I can get you something in write with."

At that moment, a small ball of brown fur ran past Patrick's legs, its floppy ears flying as it bounded outside to jump and yip at his horses. Behind it, a young girl followed calling out, "Come back here, ye miserable creature! Ye'll be trampled!" But as she caught it, her actions gave the lie to her words, for she held it close, nuzzling the small face. "Button, ye'll be the death of me," she told it severely. Passing Patrick, she dropped a quick, bobbing curtsy. "Yer pardon, sir, but I was afeard she was going ter be gone afore I could catch 'er."

"What is it, Lizzie?" Elise came to the banister above them, then stopped abruptly when she saw him. As the color drained from her face, she said, "Oh, 'tis you."

He took off his hat. "Hello, Ellie."

Telling herself that she was not going to let his unexpected appearance overset her, she remained upstairs where he could not touch her. Crossing her arms across her breast, she regarded him steadily.

"Aren't you going to come down to hear what I have to say?" he asked quietly.

"No."

"I thought perhaps you would wish to know that the hearing has been set, and I wanted to assure you it is but a formality. I do, however, expect Rand will be bound over for trial, either before Christmas or after."

"Yes. Papa told me."

She was making it awkward for him, and he knew he deserved it. Nonetheless, he didn't want to speak with her in front of her servants. He moved closer to the stairs.

"Ellie—"

"You have told me, haven't you?"

"Not all of it."

"What else is there?"

He could threaten her with his withdrawal from Rand's defense, but he wanted her to come to him of her own free will, not because she had to. His hand caught the newel post as he took the first step.

"I have brought my tilbury and pair. I thought perhaps you might want to partake of fresh air."

"No."

"The leaves in the parks are quite lovely this time of year."

Despite the fact that she had no claim to him, she still felt a certain bitterness. "No," she repeated coldly. "I don't wish to go anywhere." Seeing that he had taken another step up, she fought the urge to run to her chamber and slam the door before he could
reach her. "I would very much rather that you lift.
"

“And I'd very much like to talk to you."

“About what?"

Seeing that both Graves and the girl were regarding him curiously, he dared not say what he wanted. "I'd hoped to discuss Rand with you."

“I’d suggest you go to the horse's mouth, sir, and discuss whatever it is you want with him."

"If you do not come down, I shall come up, Ellie."

"No."

"I need your help—I need to know the precise dates when Rand was robbed and the watch brought him home."

“Ask him."

“I have, and he says he cannot remember. He is n«n the most forthcoming client I have had," he added wryly.

"No, I suppose not. He does not think he should be tried at all."

He took four steps up. "Five minutes, Ellie—'tis all I ask."

She had the choice of calling Joseph or one of the other footmen and throwing him out or of being backed into her own room. And she knew she had no right to be angry, not when she had initiated the bargain between them, and yet she did not want him to ask her to play the harlot again. Not when he had
al
ready promised himself to Lady Jane. And yet when she
looked down on his face, she could not help remembering how it felt to be held by him. And she knew she was just as afraid of herself as she was of him.

“Five minutes, and you will go?" she heard herself say.

“Word of a Hamilton. Now—do you want to come down—or shall I come up?"

“I’d rather come down," she decided. She moved slowly, gracefully, as though she were a queen. He backed down and waited. As she cleared the last step, she squared her shoulders.

"Is Papa's bookroom all right—or would you prefer the front saloon?"

"Whatever is suitable to you."

"The bookroom, then." Turning to the butler, she told him, "As Mr. Hamilton does not stay, there is no need for refreshment, and therefore you are not to disturb us." To the tweeny, she added, "Put Button back upstairs, if you please."

"She is a taking little thing—the dog, I mean," Patrick murmured, holding the door for her.

"She has the house at sixes and sevens, if you want the truth of it." She regarded him severely for a moment "We all quite despair that she will ever be civilized, but wretch that you are, I daresay you knew that when you brought her here."

"But you like her."

"Yes. There are times when everyone goes on as always, and then I think I should go mad without her," she admitted. "Sometimes her madcap manners are all that keep me from thinking about what is happening to Papa. Or from dwelling on the fact that Mama has left both of us to go it without her."

"Poor Ellie," he said softly. "You have a lot on your shoulders, don't you? I would that I could help you, you know."

She moved to the fireplace and crossed her arms again, rubbing them as though she were cold. He was too near, too alive. She forced herself to think of the announcement in the paper.

"Did you get my gift?" he asked finally.

"Yes,"

He came up behind her. "Ellie—"

"I pray you will not touch me."

"For what it is worth, I do not love her."

"But you are committed to marrying her. What would she feel if she knew you were here with me? At least one of us ought to be able to hold a head up, don't you think?"

He reached out, touching her shining red-gold hair with the back of his hand. "It isn't a love match, I swear it. She doesn't even want to sleep with me, Ellie. Jane is but the political price I have to pay for Dunster’s support."

She ducked away and spun around. "And you think I am your whore? Well, I am not!" she cried. "I don't want to be that anymore, Hamilton. I am the rich Miss Rand, not some back alley trollop as can be laid at will.”

“ ‘Twas your bargain, Ellie," he reminded her. “ ‘Twas you who began—"

“And 'tis I who am ending it."

“Ellie—Ellie—it doesn't have to be. We can go on, .and—"

“No." Swallowing hard, she walked to the window to put distance between them. "It isn't your fault for taking what I offered," she said, her voice low. "I thought I could do it—I made myself believe that since Ben was dead, it wouldn't matter—that my soul and my body were two very different things, and that you could touch one without hurting the other—that Papa's life was worth selling my person for."

“I don't think of you that way at all."

She clenched her hands at her side so tightly that her nails dug into her palms. "Hear me out, will you? I am trying to tell you that I don't want anything more between us."

“Because of Jane? I told you—"

"Because of me!" She bit her lip hard to still its trembling, then she forced herself to face him again. “It is wrong, Patrick—terribly wrong. I cannot look myself in the mirror without seeing what I am, and I cannot bear the shame. The cause was good, but—"

“I still want you—you are like some sort of malady that I don't want to cure."

“I am afraid you will have to cure it with Jane. I'm asking you to defend my father, and I am asking you to do it for money rather than for me." When she looked up, the expression in his eyes nearly unnerved her. “Will you still defend him, Patrick?"

He knew he had it in his power to compel her, to tell her he was walking out the door unless she kept her part of the bargain. But he also knew she would probably hate him for it. "Yes," he said finally.

"Then 'tis settled, isn't it?" she managed. Exhaling, she told herself it was over, that she had survived. "Now—I am not precisely certain as to when Papa was robbed, but the last time was but a day or two before he brought you home to dine."

"Did he ever speak to you about opium?" he asked suddenly.

"Opium?" she repeated blankly. "Only that he abhorred it. Why?"

"There have been rumors that he might have used it—and that he might have lured prostitutes with it."

"Like everything else that is said, it is a lie. Why would he need to do such a thing, I ask you? He didn't need to use opium like that—he could buy whatever he wished with money,"

"Fanny Shawe died the day before I came to dine," he said quietly.

She stared incredulously, then found her voice. "Whose side are you on?" she demanded furiously. "Surely you must know my father did not do such a thing!"

"I am merely saying what the prosecutor will say."

"Well, I would that you did not say it to me," she snapped. But as she realized he was utterly serious, her anger faded to fear. "You don't think he will be convicted, surely?"

"I don't know. I need help, Ellie—I need for him to give me answers rather than bluster."

"But if he did not do it, he cannot know any answers."

"I don't have a wand to wave over him, no matter how much he wishes to believe it. In his mistaken belief in my powers, he is fashioning his own noose."

"Can you not tear this Colley apart with words?"

He appeared to consider for a moment, then admitted, "As much as you have no wish to hear it, I'm going to tell you that I don't know about that either."

"But you are Patrick Hamilton! You are the best to be had—you told me that yourself!''

"Oh, I can make Colley look like a fool, but when everything is considered, will a jury believe he killed woman who earned his bread? What was his reason? Jealousy? Greed? Rage? For everything, Ellie, there has to be a reason."

"Then what was Papa's supposed to be?" she countered angrily. "If she gave him what he paid for, why would he kill her either? Or why would he have murdered Fanny Shawe? Or Peg Parker?"

“Orr Betty Wilkes. Or Kate Tilley. Or Bess Miller."

“Who are they?"

“Three other women taken from the river in the past year."

“Surely—
surely
they are not accusing him of those also? They cannot think he has murdered every dead female in London, can they?"

“Peale expects to charge him for those I mentioned tomorrow. And while perhaps each can be defended, the sum of all of them may well be overwhelming."

“But why? What has he done to deserve this? Is it jealousy that a laborer's son should get rich in bricks? Why is it that the streets before the prison are filled mill those who would hate before one shred of evidence is presented?"

“When bellies are empty of bread, there is a tendency to seek diversion, I suppose. A London mob needs no excuse to pillage and burn, Ellie."

What they want is a sadistic exhibition—with my father as the attraction," she said with asperity. "Indeed, but it surprises me that they have not been here today to shout insults and throw garbage at his house.

Did the Runners come?" She went to the window and lifted a hanging. "They are out there—across the street. If anything is to happen, they are to run for the authorities. There is not much they can do alone, after all, and I would not expect them to stand before rioters bent on committing mayhem."

"I
would that you left here," he said soberly. "There is no accounting for the whim of a mob. And once the hearing is held, if he is bound over for a later trial, it could become uglier still."

"And where would I
go? Papa never wished to leave the city for the country, saying he'd been born and bred here. No, I shall stay, I think. I
do not mean to let street ruffians drive me from the house I was born in."

"You could remove to the Pulteney Hotel and be safer."

"And have every nob in the place look down his nose at me—or whisper behind my back? I think not." Aware that he was standing too close for her comfort again, she moved away. "But we are afield, aren't we? I wish I could be of more help, but I cannot. I do not know precisely when the watch has brought him home—it was not an entirely uncommon occurrence, you see."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Sometimes he was merely too drunk to stand, and twice at least it was because he'd been robbed and beaten. There is nothing else to tell, perhaps because I was too wrapped up in myself to note it."

"Can you tell him that if he is not prepared to assist in his defense, he is asking me to go into court with my hands tied at my back? Otherwise, I cannot help him."

"Yes. I can do that at least."

"There is not a great deal of time before the first hearing. And if he is bound over for the next few weeks, I can almost promise that a verdict will go against him."

"I
shall go again this afternoon," she promised, sighing. As he looked like he might take another step toward her, she settled her shoulders. "Yes, well—it has been more than five minutes, hasn't it?"

“Yes, I
suppose it has." Picking up his hat from the table where he'd laid it, he set it on his head. He started for the door, then turned back.

"I
have hopes you will wear the bracelet."

She shook her head. "I have already sent it back to Mr. Byrnes in your office this morning. I hope you will disregard the note attached to it, for it is not terribly civil."

"It was the announcement in the
Gazette,
wasn't it? I should have told you of it, but I didn't want to. I'm sorry—truly sorry, Elise."

"No, it was not the papers." She tried to force a smile, but it twisted. "It was Ezekiel."

For a moment he was nonplussed. "Ezekiel?"

"Yes. Chapter 16, verses 35 and 39."