The Sanctuary (A Spencer Novel) (8 page)

Chapter 13

Anthony glanced up as Clairece breezed into the breakfast room. In a blue morning gown of lightweight wool trimmed in lavender cording, she looked incredibly lovely. A net, covered in small points of amethyst, secured her hair at her nape.

He rose. “Good morning, Mrs. Griffin. I believe the doctor’s orders were for you to remain in bed another day.”

She inclined her head in greeting. “The day’s too lovely to spend in bed.”

Now that is debatable.

“And we have things to discuss,” she concluded.

“Please,” Anthony indicated a chair to the right of his.

After making her selections, Clairece accepted the proffered seat while a footman set her plate before her.

“You may leave us, Simms,” Anthony instructed.

The servant bowed and withdrew, closing the door behind him. Clairece arched a brow at the impropriety of the request.

“I think it best to keep our plans as private as possible,” Anthony explained. He poured coffee into a cup and passed it to her. “You look lovely, my dear.”

“Thank you.” She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “Since I don’t recognize this particular frock, I can only assume it’s something you purchased?”

“In an attempt to conceal your whereabouts, I had a few items collected and taken to James’ house, then procured some things for you in their stead.”

“I see.”

He’d been around enough women to recognize the tone. Somewhere, he’d made a huge error in judgment.

“If you will give me the bill, I shall settle it.”

“There is no need—” he began.

“Oh, I assure you there is. I cannot accept personal gifts from you. Since I am neither your wife, family member, nor mistress, I will pay for my own clothing.” With this pronouncement, she continued with her breakfast.

He’d choose his battles. “As you wish.” Anthony slid the morning paper in her direction. “There’s something in the
Post
I think you should see.”

She took a bite of toast and examined the personals column. Her head snapped up. “This one—”she tapped a spot with her finger—“the one addressed to CG. He claims to possess the information I requested. I’m to meet him at the lending library at noon today.”

“Cutting it close, don’t you think?”

Clairece shrugged. “Perhaps. He must suspect I check the columns daily.”

“If you’ve never met, how are you to recognize each other? Something doesn’t feel right.” He studied her face and sighed. “From your expression, I assume we’re going.” At her nod, Anthony folded the paper and laid it aside. “Does he know to expect a woman?”

“There’s no reason he should.” Clairece added cream and sugar to her coffee. “This is far too important to risk his backing off if he feels something is wrong, so don’t think you’ll go in my place.” She swallowed more toast. “If he doesn’t show, perhaps the
Post
could tell us who’s placing the ads.”

“An excellent idea.” Anthony drained his coffee, surprised she’d correctly discerned his intentions. “Later, I’ll go around to Scotland Yard to garner any additional information.”

Clairece spread marmalade on the last bit of toast. “I would like to go with you.”

“The Yard is no place for a lady. You would be much safer here until I return.” If she discovered he’d discussed both her and the collar with Stallings before she arrived, Clairece would most likely refuse his help. If she ascertained he’d accepted an assignment involving the collar and therefore her, he had no doubt she would turn her back on him altogether.

“If you say so.” She crunched through the marmalade-covered morsel.

“You must promise not to leave without either me or James to accompany you.”

Her reaction was a slight smile.

Since Anthony had few illusions about being obeyed, he would ask Stallings to set a man to watch her should Clairece decide to venture out alone.

Anthony stepped from his carriage, signaling his coachman to drive on. He meandered past a couple of storefronts to a tobacconist shop where he stopped to examine the items on display. The reflection in the window gave him a clear view of the Library. Within moments, a hackney pulled up in front of the library and Clairece stepped down. She handed the jarvey a coin and started up the steps.

A small urchin called to her from across the street.

Clairece turned and stepped back into the road.

Anthony watched in stunned horror as a black, nondescript carriage, the curtains drawn over the windows, barreled down the street toward Clairece. He shouted and ran in her direction, watching helplessly as she stopped and glanced at him in surprise.

He would not get there in time. Above the hammering of his heart and the pounding of hooves, he heard the impact as the lead horse struck her slender body.

And felt the blow to the marrow of his bones.

Clairece’s slight form revolved like a child’s spinning top and flew through the air to land in a motionless heap at the side of the road.

Anthony dropped to his knees at her side, afraid to touch her. He vaguely heard someone shout for a doctor.

Blood seeped into her bright curls from a gash on her forehead, and oozed from scratches on her cheek. One slender leg, scraped and bleeding, lay visible through the remnants of her gown. He shucked off his coat and laid it over her, then felt for a pulse at the side of her throat.

The palm of one kid-leather glove was shredded and bloody. Anthony yanked a handkerchief from his waistcoat pocket and pressed it against her temple, a horrid sense of déjà vu overtaking him.

“Clairece, can you hear me, sweetheart? You are not to die,” he pleaded, his voice hoarse from the desperation consuming him. “Please—open your eyes, darling.”

Her lashes fluttered. “Anthony?”

He leaned down and whispered, “Yes, love.”

“Don’t . . . leave me,” she murmured.

“Never.” Anthony swiped his fingers across his eyes and shouted, “Where’s the damned doctor?” He hadn’t prayed since his mother died, but he did now. He would promise anything, do anything, not to lose Clairece. “Please, God, let her be all right.” He lifted his head . . . and met James’ intent, worried regard as he knelt beside his cousin.

“Let me through,” Dr. Farris ordered, pushing people aside as he made his way toward them. He knelt to check Clairece’s pulse. His gaze riveted on Anthony, Farris demanded, “Can you explain this one?”

Anthony forced a nod. “Later. Please, just help her.”

Farris reached into his black bag for a small bottle and ran it under Clairece’s nose. She shook her head and clipped Farris on the jaw with a thrashing fist. Farris caught her flaying hand. “Feisty, isn’t she?”

“Without a doubt.” Anthony sat fully on the ground, willing his stomach not to cast up his accounts there in the street.

Farris snapped the bag shut. “I need to examine her, but I cannot do it here.”

Anthony gained his feet. “My carriage is over there and Mrs. Dobbins is still at Inniswood.” Before James could move or voice a protest, Anthony signaled for his driver and slid his arms beneath Clairece. Her face contorted in pain.

“Farris?” Anthony raised his brows in question.

The physician stood. “We have no choice but to move her.”

“I’m sorry if this hurts you, darling,” Anthony whispered. “Stay with me, Clairece. Everything will be all right.”

It has to be.

Behind closed doors at Innesbrook, James faced Anthony and shouted, “What the hell is going on? First the park and now this. And . . . what’s between you and Clairece? Don’t try to tell me there’s nothing.”

“I won’t.” Anthony crossed to the tantalus to pour each of them a brandy.

“How well do you know her, Tony?”

Anthony understood what James asked. “Quite well.”

“Dammit,” James stormed. “I trusted you to take care of her.”

James’ remonstration felt like a gut-punch. “Give me time to work this out with her.”

“Phillip said there was something between the two of you but I wouldn’t listen.” James regarded Anthony angrily. “I saw your face and heard your voice out on the street which is the only reason I don’t thrash you senseless.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “What are your intentions, Tony?”

Anthony handed James a tumbler and gulped his own. “Clairece cannot move past the need to avenge Roger’s death to listen to what I have to say.”

James’ voice dropped to a menacing growl. “But you can bed her?”

Anthony ignored the challenge. “You were right in your assumption she came to avenge Roger, but I also believe she was lured into coming.”

Paling, James dropped into a chair. “Whatever for?”

“To kill her.”

“Why, for God’s sake?”

“I don’t know, but this is what we have so far.” Anthony explained the messages left in the
Evening News and Post
and the one Clairece had placed in the beginning. “The day she arrived, she found a copy of the paper on her doorstep with my name scribbled on it. She attended my—” he stopped and looked away.

“Finish the sentence. Attended what?” James probed, his eyes narrowing.

“My masquerade ball.”

James gaped. “Clairece is your mysterious woman?”

At Anthony’s silence, James swore.

“For what it’s worth, I didn’t know who she was or I would never have—”

James held up a staying finger. “I understand.”

At a perfunctory knock, the door opened to admit Benjamin Farris. The doctor signaled for James to remain seated before casting a meaningful glance at the glass in Anthony’s hand. “She’s still alive, which is a wonder.” Without waiting to be asked, Farris settled into another chair.

Anthony swallowed against the fear building in his chest and poured Farris a finger of brandy.

Farris took a hefty swallow. “She sustained some broken ribs and a severe bump to the head. There’s significant bruising around her midsection and down one side. Her body is covered with cuts and abrasions and she has one badly sprained ankle. But, unless there’s something I cannot see, she should recover.”

“Should?” Anthony sputtered and leaned heavily against his desk.

“I have no way to determine if one of the ribs punctured a lung, or if the impact itself will result in internal hemorrhaging.”

“How do we identify a problem?” Anthony could barely form words against the fear clogging his throat.

“A fever, vomiting of blood, anything unusual. If she doesn’t come around soon, notify me. A head injury can be tricky in itself.” Farris sipped his drink. “Mrs. Dobbins will know what to watch for.”

“Thanks for coming so quickly,” James said, still visibly shaken.

Farris nodded. “I was walking back to the office and saw the carriage pick up speed. If Harding hadn’t shouted at Mrs. Griffin, she would have taken the hit straight on and been crushed beneath the coach wheels. As it was, she stopped in time to take a glancing blow but nothing worse.” Farris eyed Anthony somberly. “So, might I assume this was not an accident either?”

“It was not.” Anthony sighed. “And whoever is responsible for this, and the attempt in Hyde Park, will undoubtedly try again.”

Farris’ brows rose. “Why?”

Anthony pondered the wisdom of disclosure, then made a decision to confide in the man. “The assaults are most likely connected to an incident in New York, but I don’t have all the facts yet.”

“And Scotland Yard?” Farris finished his drink and pushed up from the chair.

Anthony straightened. “Stallings is aware of the situation. I planned on speaking to him again this afternoon before . . .” He couldn’t finish.

“I’ll leave it up to you. However, when Mrs. Griffin is well enough, I would advise a change of scenery.” Farris set his glass on the edge of the desk. “She’s a strong woman, but her body can only withstand so much.”

“My butler will see you out. And Farris, thank you.” Anthony offered in fervent thanks.

The doctor huffed out a chuckle. “Thank me after you get my statement of account.” He nodded at James and exited the room behind Hodges.

James had remained silent through most of the exchange. Anthony knew he was furious as well as worried. He had every right to feel both.

“This might be a good time to send word to your family. Earlier today, Clairece indicated her
source
wouldn’t know if she was male or female but clearly they do. She was asked to meet at the library to receive information. If I were to guess, I’d say her source is behind the attempts on her life.”

James rose from the chair. “I want to see Clairece, Tony. Alone.”

Anthony took a seat behind his desk to wait. Within minutes, James reappeared.

“She’s still unconscious. Send for me as soon as she wakes.” Without another word, James strode from the room.

For the second time that day, Anthony prayed, but this time he prayed when this was finished he and James still remained friends.