The Paid Companion (24 page)

“Damnation. He
intended
for you to be confused. The similarity in costumes cannot have been a coincidence.”

She considered that briefly and shook her head. “I disagree. It could most certainly have been a coincidence. There were any number of gentlemen at the ball who wore very similar cloaks and masks.”

“Did you mistake any other man for me this evening?”

She smiled ruefully at that insightful question. “No, as a matter of fact, I did not. Just the man in the ripped domino and only for a short time.”

“How could you be certain that it was not me?”

She thought she heard an odd mix of curiosity and suspicion in his words, as if he was asking another question entirely. Would y
ou really know me in a dark and crowded room? No one knows me that well.

I do,
she thought. But she could hardly say that.

She pondered what she could tell him that would sound logical. She certainly could not explain that the killer’s scent had not been anything like his own. Such a remark would be far too personal, too intimate. It would reveal just how very aware of him she was.

“He was not the same height,” she said instead. “I have danced with you, sir. Your shoulder is somewhat above his.” She could rest her head on Arthur’s shoulder, she thought wistfully. “And rather more broad.” Arthur’s shoulders were sleekly muscled and very inviting. “Also, his fingers were longer than yours.”

Arthur’s expression darkened. “You noticed his fingers?”

“Indeed, sir. A woman is generally very much aware of a gentleman’s hands when he touches her. Is the reverse not true for a man?”

He made a noncommittal response that sounded like “Huh.”

“Oh, and there were two other things I noticed,” she continued. “He wore a ring on his left hand and a pair of Hessians.”

“Like a thousand other men in town,” he muttered. Then he glanced back at her, one black brow arched. “You noticed his boots, also?”

“As soon as I realized that he was not you, I became curious about his identity.” She looked into the fire. “Whoever he was, he was definitely not an elderly man. He danced with a fashionable ease about his movements. There was no stiffness or hesitation in him. I can assure you he was not of your great-uncle’s generation.”

“That is a very useful piece of information,” he said slowly. “I shall have to give it some close thought. Did you happen to note anything else?”

“It is difficult to explain, but at the time I sensed that there was something odd about his manner. He appeared to be in the grip of an unwholesome excitement.”

“He had just come from killing a man.” Arthur stopped in front of the window and looked out at the moonlit garden. “The horrid thrill of his deed was no doubt still upon him, riding him hard. So he sought you out and danced with you.”

“It seems quite bizarre, does it not?” She shivered. “One would think that after committing murder, one would want to go directly home and take a hot bath, not go to a ball and dance.”

“He did not go to the Fambridge ball to dance with just any woman,” Arthur said evenly. “He went there to waltz with you.”

She shivered. “I must admit it did appear that he deliberately sought me out. But I cannot understand why he would do such a thing.”

“I can.”

She turned her head very quickly, astonished by his bleak statement. “You comprehend his motive?”

“Tonight he no doubt learned from Ibbitts that I am hunting him. In his arrogance, he decided to celebrate what he perceived to be a triumph over me.”

She pursed her lips. “Mayhap you are right, sir, but that does not explain why he danced with me.”

Arthur turned to face her. She almost stopped breathing when she saw the savage anger that blazed in his eyes.

“Do you not understand?” he said. “There is a very ancient, very foul tradition among men who wage war against each other. More often than not, the winners seek to proclaim their victories by taking possession of their opponents’ women.”

“Possession? Sir, you speak of rape.” She leaped to her feet. “I assure you, it was only a dance.”

“And I assure you, Miss Lodge, that in the villain’s mind that dance was symbolic of another act entirely.”

“That is ridiculous,” she began stoutly. Then she recalled how much she had disliked the feel of the stranger’s hand on her waist. She took a deep breath. “Regardless of how he viewed the situation, from my perspective, it was nothing more than a short waltz with an unpleasant partner.”

“I know. But your opinion is rather beside the point.”

“I disagree,” she said fiercely.

He acted as if he had not heard her. “I must concoct another plan.”

She could tell that he was already formulating his new strategy. “Very well. ‘What shall we do, sir?”

“You will do nothing, Elenora, except go up to your room to pack. Your employment in this household ends tonight. I will send your wages to you.”

“What?” Outraged, she stared at him. “You are letting me go?”

“Yes. I intend to send you away to one of my estates until this affair is ended.”

Raw panic jolted through her. She was not going back to the country. Her new life was here in London. Whatever happened, she would not allow herself to be packed off to some remote village estate where she would have to cool her heels for heaven knew how long.

But getting hysterical would only make matters worse, she told herself. This was Arthur. Logic worked best with him.

She fought to keep her voice even and controlled. “You intend to send me away merely because the villain danced with me?”

“I told you, to him it was more than a dance.”

She flushed. “For heaven’s sake, sir, it is not as though he forced himself upon me.”

“What he did,” Arthur said in a startlingly rough voice, “was demonstrate that he sees you as a pawn in this game that he is playing with me. I will not permit him to use you in any way.”

She must make allowances for his rigid manner, she told herself. After all, he was attempting to protect her.

“I appreciate what you are trying to do,” she said, striving to maintain her patience, “but it is much too late. I am involved in this affair, whether you like it or not. My lord, I fear that you are not thinking with your customary clarity.”

He watched her very steadily. “Indeed?”

At least she had his attention, she thought. “Sir, you are obviously deeply concerned about my safety. That is very gallant of you. But what makes you think that the villain will forget about me if you send me away to rusticate in the country?”

“Once he understands that I have changed my strategy, he will lose interest in you.”

“I do not think that you can depend upon that outcome. Have you considered the possibility that the killer may well decide that I possess even more valuable information about you and your schemes than Ibbitts did?”

There was a short, shattering silence. She saw the grim comprehension on Arthur’s face and knew that he could not deny her logic.

“I will provide you with an armed guard,” he said.

“You could do that, but it would not necessarily stop the villain. He moves freely in Society. What am I to do? Avoid all gentlemen? And for how long? Weeks? Months? You cannot keep me under guard indefinitely. No, I am better off here with you, helping you find the killer.”

“Damnation, Elenora-”

“And what of Margaret? If I am no longer conveniently at hand, the killer may well try to use her instead. After all, she is not only a member of this household but a member of your family. Removing me from the game may make her the villain’s next target.”

“Damnation,” he said again, very softly this time. “You are correct. I have not been thinking clearly.”

“Only because you have been under a great deal of stress this evening,” she assured him. “You must not be too hard on yourself. Walking in on the scene of a murder would have a nasty effect on anyone’s reasoning processes.”

His mouth curved in a strange smile. “Yes, of course. I should have realized that was the source of my poor logic tonight.”

“Do not concern yourself,” she said, trying to sound bracing. “I’m certain that your customary powers of reason will return soon.”

“I can only hope that is the case.”

She did not trust that tone, she thought.

“Sir, let me remind you that I have been very helpful in this investigation,” she continued, anxious to get back to the important matter. “If you continue to allow me to assist you, we will likely solve this puzzle far more quickly than if you work alone.”

“I’m not at all sure of that,” he muttered.

“Furthermore, if you keep me by your side in my role as your fiancée, not only will you be able to protect me, but the killer will assume that we know nothing more now than we did before Ibbitts was murdered.”

His jaw tightened. “That is the truth, unfortunately.”

“No, it is not the truth.” It was her turn to pace the room. “I paid close attention when the villain danced with me. There is a very good chance that I might recognize him if I were to come into close contact with him again. At the very least, I can rule out any number of gentlemen based on their general age, height and physique and the way they move, not to mention the shape of their hands.”

He narrowed his eyes, and she knew that she had made her point.

“Don’t you see, sir?” She gave him an encouraging smile. “If we continue with your original plan, we will have an edge because the killer will never realize that we made a connection between my waltz partner and Ibbitts’s killer. He won’t know that we are aware of a few important physical details about him.”

“You are right,” he admitted. He flexed one hand in a small gesture of anger and frustration. “If I send you away immediately, he may suspect that we know he danced with you. If he thinks we know that much, he may wonder if we know more than we do.”

‘And that, in turn, would cause him to be more cautious. Surely it is in our best interests if he is emboldened instead, and becomes more reckless.“

He considered her for a long, meditative moment. “Very well. You have convinced me that you would be no safer in the country than you are under this roof”

She stopped in front of the spiral staircase and smiled in relief. “Precisely.”

“However, from this moment on, neither you nor Margaret will leave this house alone. Whenever either of you go out you will be accompanied by me or one of the male servants.”

“What about Bennett Fleming? Surely he is an acceptable companion? We know he is not the killer. Aside from all else, he is simply too short.”

Arthur hesitated and then nodded once. “I think it is safe to say that Bennett is no mad alchemist bent on conducting a crazed experiment. I would trust him with my life. Very well, he qualifies as a suitable escort. I shall speak with him as soon as possible. He must understand that there is some danger afoot so that he will keep a close watch on you and Margaret whenever you are with him.”

“Yes. We must also tell Margaret about this secret investigation.”

A thick, heavy silence gripped the library. Elenora became acutely aware of the crackle and sputter of the flames. The discussion had ended. They had arrived at a compromise, one that would allow her to stay in this house and help Arthur find the killer.

The sensible thing to do now was go upstairs and seek her bed.

She glanced at the door but could not muster the will to walk toward it.

For his part, Arthur showed no interest in leaving, either. He continued to contemplate her with his fascinating eyes.

“Hitchins was right about you,” he said after the silence had stretched to the breaking point. “You are a very strong-minded, very determined woman, Miss Elenora Lodge. You have spirit. I do not believe that, in the whole of my life, I have engaged in as many quarrels as I have with you in the past few days.”

Her heart sank. He considered her a quarrelsome female. Everyone knew that men did not find difficult women attractive.

She cleared her throat. “I believe that we have had a few heated discussions, sir, but I do not think it is fair to say that we have
quarreled.”

“Heated discussions. Is that what you call them? Well, I suspect that we are fated to have any number of them so long as you live in this household. A daunting thought, is it not?”

“You are teasing me, my lord. I doubt that such a prospect will cause either of us to tremble in fear.”

His mouth lifted faintly at the corner. “Is there anything at all that would cause you to quake in fear, Miss Lodge?”

She gestured in what she hoped appeared to be blithe unconcern. The truth was, she was trembling a little at that very moment, but not in fear. She prayed that he would not notice.

‘Any number of things,“ she assured him.

“Indeed.” He started toward her with a deliberate tread, his voice darkening with sensuality. “What about the possibility that if we continue to work together in such an intimate fashion, we may do more than engage in a series of heated discussions? Is that one of the things that could cause you to quiver and shake, Miss Lodge?”

She met his gaze, saw the rising heat in them and nearly melted into the carpet.

“We are both exceptionally strong-minded individuals,” she said, feeling oddly breathless. “I am certain that we are each quite capable of keeping our association entirely professional in nature.”

He halted in front of her, the toes of his boots mere inches from the tips of her shoes. If she took a step back she would come up hard against the wrought-iron balusters of the spiral staircase.

“We may both be capable of maintaining a professional relationship,” he said very softly. “But what if we choose not to do so? ‘What happens then, Miss Lodge? Will you tremble?”

Her mouth went dry. Excitement snapped through her. She felt the knee-weakening warmth pooling in her lower body. She could not bring herself to look away from the smoldering fires in his eyes.

“I do not find myself trembling at that prospect either, sir,” she whispered.

“No?” He raised his arms and reached around and behind her to grip the balusters on either side of her head. “I envy you, Miss Lodge. Because every time I contemplate the prospect of an intimate connection with you, I do tremble.”