The Black Lotus (Night Flower) (30 page)

BOOK: The Black Lotus (Night Flower)
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Chapter 31
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Melissa lay on the chaise longue, a blanket wrapped around her frame and a glass of brandy clenched in her fingers as her mother fussed about her.

 

“I don’t understand it.” Her mother muttered as she paced up and down the parlour in agitation. “Why would anyone want to kill you? Why?” Plucking agitatedly at the sleeves of her robe, she continued to pace, as if she could walk the answers out of the floor.

 

“Mother, I’m alright.” Melissa’s voice shook slightly, a lingering reminder of her frenzied fight for life. “Marcus will catch him.”

 

“But who would do this?” Her mother stopped pacing and she stared down at her daughter, concerned tears filling her eyes. “There’s no reason for it.”

 

Melissa bent her head; she had no answers for her mother, for she wanted them for herself. She had an idea of who it might have been, but she couldn’t tell her mother about Alistair, after all she had not mentioned the letter that she had found on her pillow. She took another sip of the burning brandy and stared into the freshly stirred flames of the parlour fire. Why was Alistair doing this to her? She and Justin were finished, if indeed they had ever started, what was Alistair hoping to accomplish by attacking her? The loud bang of the front door drew her from her thoughts and she stared at the parlour door, wondering what state her brother would be in. The handle turned and Marcus walked into the parlour, his hair mussed and bruises across his knuckles.

 

“Well?” Their mother broke the silence as Marcus headed for the drinks cabinet and a stiff brandy. “Did you catch him?” Her son glanced over his shoulder as he poured the drink, he stoppered the bottle and turned back to face his mother and sister.

 

“Hmm.” Marcus nodded in affirmation as he knocked back the slug, savouring the burning sensation as it travelled down his throat. “It was Lestrade.” He sat on one of the chairs and leant back, closing his eyes, suddenly exhausted by the night’s events.

 

“Justin Lestrade?” A horrified note entered her mother’s voice and she reflexively squeezed Melissa’s hand. “That cad?” Lydia racked her brains and finally came up with an image of the man.

 

“Yes.” Marcus left his eyes closed as he replied, the empty glass of brandy hanging loosely from his hand. “He’s in the stables. I have the grooms watching him.”

 

Melissa did not hear the rest of his sentence, her mind had stopped working when he had confirmed Justin’s name. The room swam before her eyes and she had to struggle not to faint. This couldn’t be true, Justin wouldn’t, he couldn’t have been the one to attack that evening.

 

“Are you sure it was him?” Her voice was low, frightened and Marcus opened his eyes to stare at her.

 

“I’m positive.” Marcus replied as he finally gave the empty glass in his hand to Walker. “He was on the edge of the estate and that disguise he wore was on the ground beside him. Of course he claimed he didn’t do it.”

 

“It might not have been him.” Melissa argued, her heart in her mouth as she tried to process what her brother was saying. A strange sick feeling settled over her and she gripped the arms of the chair tightly, steadying herself.

 

Marcus glanced at her sharply, his green eyes measuring her reaction. “There was no one else there, he was bruised and in a mess.” He sighed and continued. “I have no doubt in my mind that he was responsible.” Moving to the edge of the chair he pushed his hair free from his face with a distracted hand. “But I don’t understand it.” He glanced over at Melissa, noting the tense set of her shoulders. “You barely know the man. All the others have been his fancy.”

 

“Walker!” Melissa’s mother turned towards the servant, her voice bell clear and sharp. “Send for the constable. I want him here as soon as possible.”

 

“Yes Miss.” The butler nodded and headed out of the parlour.

 

“Melissa my dear.” Her mother was once again at her side, her hands shifting the coverlet with agitated motions. “It will be fine. When the constable gets here, Lestrade will answer for this night’s work.”

 

“Mother I don’t think it was him!” Melissa argued, throwing aside the blanket and standing up. “I’m sure my attacker was heavier set. You can’t hang a man because you hope it’s him.”

 

“And you can’t save the man you desire from lawful justice.” Marcus’ voice drawled from the corner of the room, turning Melissa to stone and drawing a wrathful glare from her mother.

 

“Marcus you’re not suggesting..” Lydia De Vire’s voice was shocked and taut with fear. “That Melissa has…” Her eyes darted to Melissa and her daughter was shocked to see shame mingled in with the horror in her gaze.

 

“No that’s not what he’s saying!” Melissa cut across her mother’s words, her eyes sending a silent plea to her brother. “Justin saved me from a horrible accident on the road and that is all. If you must search for someone to blame for this then why not look at Montjoy? He definitely had a grudge against me.”

 

“Because much as I personally despise the man, Montjoy was not discovered at the edge of our estate, armed with the instruments used to terrify you.” Marcus pulled himself upright. “I know you don’t want to believe it Melly but you must face the truth. This is not his first offence…”

 

“That has never been proved.” Melissa was almost shouting, her voice cracking with anger. “In fact we know that he could not have killed Honesty. He could have fought with the real attacker..”

 

“Enough the pair of you!” Lydia’s voice snapped over their bickering and they both looked at their mother in surprise. “I believe it’s time for bed. Melissa you will sleep in the parlour and Marcus..”

 

“I’ll sleep in the hall,” Marcus interrupted as he dragged himself out of his chair. “Keep an eye out.”

 

“If you’re convinced you have the right man,” Melissa’s retort sizzled across the room. “Then you will not need to keep an eye out,” She sank back onto the cushions and crossed her arms. “Because the danger is apparently locked in the stables.”

 

“Don’t be sharp dear.” Her mother reprimanded as she fluffed up the pillows on the long couch. With gentle but brisk movements, she tucked Melissa into the makeshift bed. Turning back to her older child she directed him out of the room with an imperious gesture. “Go to bed Marcus. In a couple of hours the constable will be here and Lestrade will be off the property. I’m sure the grooms and those ropes will stop him escaping,” Marcus opened his mouth to protest. “Not another word Marcus, your sister will be quite safe here,” She stood with a swish of fabric and walked toward him. “It’s been a long night and you need to sleep.” Resting her hand on Marcus’ shoulder, she squeezed gently. “I’m proud of you.” Gently, but with firm determination, Lydia ushered Marcus from the room and shut the door. Turning back to her daughter, she sighed and sat in a chair.

 

“Now what about Lestrade?” The glance she gave her daughter was piercing and Melissa bowed her head, unable to stare directly at her mother.

 

“Mother I.” She started to speak, wondering how she could lie her way out of this. Lydia was not a fool; she could pull the wool over her eyes for only so long. As Marcus had planted the seeds in her mind, it was only a matter of time before her mother dug the truth out of her.

 

“When I was younger,” Her mother interrupted and she looked up, surprised to see compassion and understanding in her gaze. “I fell in love with Lord Jonathan Gabardine. He was a scoundrel of the highest order but exciting and different. I was madly in love with him. When he asked me to elope I jumped at the chance.” Lydia’s voice was soft, kindly and lost in an old memory, Melissa listened enraptured, wondering what had occurred to prevent her marriage and why she had never heard of the tale before. “It was almost the scandal of the year.”

 

“Almost?” Melissa leant forward, alight with curiosity. “What happened?”

 

“Your grandfather,” Lydia replied, an undercurrent of old anger buzzing through her words. “He found my night bag and realised what I meant to do. He waited for John and thrashed him within an inch of his life. He only let him live if he promised to leave the country and settle in France,” A hiss of old hurt escaped her mother’s lips. “I remember thinking as my father issued that ultimatum that John would never obey him; that he would rise up and take me away.” She stopped talking, her thoughts in the past and far away. Melissa tugged on her sleeve, bringing her back to the present and urging her to continue.

 

“I never saw him again,” Lydia uttered with brutal directness. Melissa glanced at her mother’s face and was shocked to see the gleam of tears in her eyes. “He knew he was doomed and he ran,”

“Mother.” Melissa placed her hand on her mother’s arm, trying to offer some comfort. “I didn’t know.”

 

“It was a long time ago and though he broke my heart, I have never forgotten,”
She looked at Melissa full in the face and her words flew forcefully across the space between them. “This is why I beg you not to make the same error I did. Whatever feelings you think he has for you, understand that they are not real.” Melissa opened her mouth to argue but her mother continued, determined to say her piece. “You are a rich catch for a rake like him. Yes he may be more pleasant than Montjoy but underneath he is the same. Don’t let your wishes cloud your judgement. I nearly eloped to Gretna for a foolish rash love. And you are nearly dead…”

 

 

“But I know Justin would not attack me like this.”
Melissa pleaded, trying to get her mother to see what she knew but Lydia held up her hand, stopping her before she could begin.

 

“How do you know?” Her mother interrupted, gently but firmly pushing her back on the bed. “You barely know him beyond your girlish dreams,” Lydia stood and pulled the coverlet straight. “He’s been implicated in several deaths before being caught on the edge of the estate, clearly damaged by the fall from your window. See sense Melissa and see reason. Lestrade is a dangerous man.”

 

 

Melissa settled back beneath the covers and pressed her lips closed. It was no use arguing, her mother had clearly made up her mind. At dawn or earlier, the constable would be called and Justin would be
taken away in disgrace. Her only chance to save him now was to wait until the house were asleep. As she feigned a large yawn, her mind began plotting how she could reach the stables and set him loose.

 

 

“Sleep well.” Her mother leaned over the bed and pressed her lips lightly to her cheek before turning to leave. “Think about what I said.” She called over her shoulder as she reached the door.

 

“Hmm.” Melissa replied in what she hoped was her sleepiest voice. Through half closed eyes, she watched her mother turn the door handle and leave the room. Left alone in the lounge, she sat up
and pushed the blanket free of her legs. Whatever else happened this night, she wanted to be awake in order to save the man she loved, for without a doubt, she knew that she did. It may not seem sensible but she could not deny her feelings. When had she swopped curiosity for affection? Melissa stared at the clock on the mantle and pondered her feelings. No matter how she looked at it, Justin had seized a place in her heart and she couldn’t let him die for her. Around her, she could feel the house fall back into silence, its inhabitants slowly relaxing after the night’s events. As the candle burned lower, she watched the clock slowly tick down the time. Three O’clock arrived and the house had finally settled back to sleep. Standing up from the chaise longue, she pulled the blanket about her shoulders and crossed the floor. Pulling apart the curtains, she opened the window and carefully clambered out. Clouds had finally covered the bright shimmering moon and the grounds were dark as she hurried towards the stables, her feet making little noise on the lush lawn. She passed the main entrance of the house and crossed the courtyard towards an archway in the wall. On light feet, she headed through the arch and made for the large darkened building on her left. The gravel crunched slightly beneath her slippered feet and she slowed down, looking up at the house in worry. The only windows that overlooked the stables were dark and with a sigh of relief she walked forward.

 

“So what you thinks’ going to happen to him then?”  A voice echoed loudly nearby. Melissa stopped dead, her heart pounding in her chest as she stared through the gloom towards the stable.

 

“Dunno.” A second voice answered and Melissa let go off the breath she was holding. She recognised Alun and Tom, two of the stable hands and with a sinking heart, she realised that her brother had placed guards. They were now between her and the stable door.

 

“Reckon he’ll hang?”  Alun continued, his feet crunching to a stop on the gravel. “Attacking the mistress an’ all?”

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