Drake's Lair (18 page)

“Do you remember the day you read my tealeaves?” Melly said guardedly. She didn’t really believe in fortunetelling. It had to be just coincidence. But it was enough of a coincidence to warrant discussion, and her curiosity was piqued.

“I tell you one day you see Rosen’s gift, eh?” the Tinker said with a nod.

“That very night, I knew I had an enemy,” Melly told her. “That fire was not an accident. Someone set it deliberately.”

“The earl, he pull you out in time, yes?”

“Yes,” she replied, eyeing the Tinker cautiously. “It was he, who told me he saw someone running away as he rode up, and I heard someone outside before the fire started, but I have come to believe that perhaps it was the earl who set the fire.”

“Why would he do that?”

“I have no idea.”

“Why you think it?”

“M-maybe because of what you saw that day in my teacup. He has certainly behaved like my enemy—either that or he is a madman, a certifiable Bedlamite. And he does have a secret, something grave and dark that has doubtless caused his madness.”

“Ummmm,” Rosen hummed, considering it. “You discover this secret?”

“No, not entirely. What I have discovered makes absolutely no sense. I do believe that the madness spoke it.”

“That is not why you leave the dragon’s house.”

“No,” Melly said in a low voice.

“Ummmm, I need no tealeaves to see that, little friend, your face reads like a book—a book of sorrows. You wear your heart there.”

“None of that matters. I am well out of it.”

“The only thing you are out of is the dragon’s house,” the Gypsy said, her words riding a wry laugh, “and there is still danger—more so now. But we talk another time of that. You can share Tisa’s wagon—my eldest. She will not be too pleased. She thinks she is all grown now at fifteen, no more in need of mothering. She will see. She keeps my youngest, Val. There will be plenty of room for you in Tisa’s wagon.”

“I don’t want to cause any trouble. It’s only temporary—no more than a sennight if things go as planned.”

“Ummmm,” Rosen grunted, dismissing that with a wave of her hand. “Pascoe, he find woodruff, wood sage, and sorrel deep in the forest, and others, too. Tomorrow, he take you in the wagon. He show you. Now you rest. And later, you tell me all about the dragon’s house, and the earl’s madness.”

Fourteen

Drake’s first order of business was to examine the contents of the valuables chest. Inside, everything seemed to be in order. All the notes he’d left there were accounted for, as were the ledgers, and the Shelldrake diamond. He lifted it out and admired it, a single pear-shaped fifteen-carat drop, suspended from a filigree bail riding on a fine gold chain. He recalled with sinking heart how he’d envisioned it resting in the hollow of Demelza’s throat. He snapped the velvet case shut on that memory, chucked it back inside, and closed the chest.

He’d promised himself that he wouldn’t think about that… about her, but she was all he could think about. Her hair was just as he’d imagined it, soft as spun silk to the touch, warm and fragrant. She tasted golden, of honey and the sun, and her skin was softer than anything he had ever dreamed. And he had dreamed. Often. It was the exact color of the peach silk nightdress that followed her curves inviting his touch, the curves that had aroused him the night of the fire, when the sight and touch of her body alone had ravished him. It would have happened again, and properly this time, if her lover hadn’t arrived for their assignation in a timely fashion.
Zeus
! Was this love? If it was, he’d never been there before, and it was overrated. It wasn’t the sort of ecstatic end-all-be-all wonder of wonders drivel that dripped from Byron’s pen. Not by a long shot. It was agony.

A knock at the door jolted him out of his reverie, and his eyes narrowed on the dark paneled wood. He didn’t answer, and it came again—louder.

“Are you in there, m’lord?” Mrs. Laity’s voice shrilled from the other side.

Damn and blast
! Did the woman not understand the King’s English? Had he not told her he didn’t want to be disturbed?

“I’m sorry, m’lord, but you’d best come,” she whined “Prowse can’t hold them off much longer!”

“Hold whom off?” Drake demanded, throwing the study door wide. “What the devil is the press? You’ll bring down the house with that God-awful caterwauling.”

“Two men have come from Laddanvean to have a word with Mr. Ellery,” she said.

“Well, go and beat on his door, then. Don’t bother me.”

“I did, m’lord. He don’t answer. I think he’s still drunk as a wheelbarrow up there. The men, they aren’t exactly what you might call gentlemen, m’lord, they’re rather a rough sort. They say they won’t go without first speaking with Mr. Ellery, and Prowse is hard-pressed to hold them back from rooting him out all on their own.”

Muttering a string of obscenities in a low voice, Drake stepped over the sill and locked the study door behind him. Then shooing the housekeeper back toward the servants’ wing, he squared his posture and stormed toward the Great Hall, following the sound of raised voices echoing along the corridor, with little regard for his sore feet.

“I’m sorry, m’lord,” Prowse cried excitedly. “I couldn’t hold the brutes.”

“Look here, what the devil’s going on?” Drake demanded, come abreast of two stocky men in plain dress—stuff breeches, plain coats, and dark stockings, smelling of ale recently drunk, and the horses they’d arrived on. “Stand back from my man! I am the Earl of Shelldrake. This is my home, and you are trespassing. Who are you, and what business have you here?”

“None with you, your lordship,” said the taller of the two. “Our business is with a Mr. James Ellery. Get ‘im down here, and once we settle our affairs, we’ll go peaceable. We don’t want no trouble with you.”

“Well, you’ve got it nonetheless. You’re standing in my house, manhandling my butler, and I may as well warn you, I’m spoiling for a good fight. I haven’t had one since I bested Gentleman Jim at Jackson’s Salon in London over five years ago. So you see, I’m long overdue.”

“Like we said, we don’t want no trouble with you, just Mr. Ellery.”

“Mr. Ellery is indisposed. Identify yourselves and state your business to me, or leave your calling cards and take your chances.”

“We don’t have no cards. My name is Jeremy Stokes, and this here is Charlie Swinton,” said the speaker. Reaching into his pocket, he produced a sheaf of wrinkled papers. “He’s inta us for near two hundred pounds, is Ellery. He’s had time enough to make good. We’re here to collect.”

“Hah!” Drake erupted. “Is that all? He’s into me for more than twenty times that. Well, you shan’t have satisfaction today. It’s quite impossible. I shall see that he knows of your visit. Now, I’m afraid I shall have to ask you to leave.”

“We ain’t leavin’ without our blunt!” Swinton put in.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Drake, balling his hands into fists at his sides. He needed something to hit, and these poor devils were going to be that something. “Stand back, Prowse,” he said to the butler. And before the two intruders could blink, he’d grabbed them by their shirtfronts, cracked their heads together, and run them through the open doors, where they tumbled down the steps, and landed in a heap in the middle of the Welsh bluestone drive.

“Now then,” he said, standing over them arms-akimbo, “as I’ve said, I shall see that he knows you were here. But if you want money, you’re going to have to get in line. Don’t come here again.”

Straightening his waistcoat, Drake strode back inside, slammed the doors shut, and bolted them, then turned to face the butler, who stood staring mouth agape.

“Keep them locked hereafter ‘till I tell you otherwise,” he instructed him, nodding toward the doors behind.

“Y-yes, m’lord. I… I couldn’t hold them. I’m sorry, m’lord.”

“You shouldn’t have had to,” Drake returned. “Have those men been here before?”

“Yes, m’lord, on several occasions.”

“All right, go on about your duties. They shan’t be returning anytime soon.”

“Y-yes, m’lord.”

Drake shuffled back to the study. His feet hurt again. What was he thinking? He should have taken them upstairs and let
them
deal with Ellery. He was half-tempted to go outside, dust them off, and have them back in to do just that and save him the trouble. It was a fiendish thought, but he reveled in it nonetheless. He had just saved the steward’s neck
again
. Old habits were hard to break, but break them he would. It was time.

*

Drake had scarcely gotten back to his ledgers, when it was time for nuncheon. Cooks summer salad, oysters, and poppy seed bread fresh from the oven, served with chive butter and Roquefort cheese tasted like straw. His palate seemed to have dried up along with his appetite. He ate halfheartedly. Alone. Ellery had still not made an appearance, which was just as well. He hadn’t quite slaked his craving for bloodlust.

After the meal, he scrawled a hasty note on parchment to Bradshaw and Mills outlining his findings and asking them to come at once, then sealed it, and gave it to Smithers to post in the village. That done, he returned to the study. There were still a good many ledgers to justify, and that kept him occupied most of the day.

It was late in the afternoon, when the sound of a key being tried in the study door brought his head up sharply. After several more tries someone knocked, and he set his quill aside and waited, watching the door handles jiggle.”

“Drake? Are you in there?” Ellery called, his voice surly and thick.

He made no reply.

“What’s wrong with this blasted door? Drake? Open up!”

Still he waited.

One vengeful thump on the paneled wood followed his silence, then a string of blue expletives spoken loud enough to penetrate the ancient wood, followed by the sound of heavy footfalls carrying the steward away.

Drake heaved a sigh. It was just as well that he’d remained silent. He wasn’t looking forward to the confrontation with Ellery that must come. He wanted to wait until the auditors were in residence for that. There needed to be witnesses. But impatient hands rattling the French doors now snapped his head toward the noise, and he surged out of the chair behind the desk and reached them just short of broken glass.

“What the deuce are you trying to do?” he demanded, flinging the door wide, though he barred Ellery’s way.

“I’m trying to come in. I should think that would be fairly obvious. What’s wrong with that damnable door lock? My key wouldn’t work in it just now. Didn’t you hear me? What? Were you sleeping in here?”

Drake didn’t answer. He stood aside assessing the ravages of his rage, while the steward limped in gingerly. One of Ellery’s eyes was blackened and almost closed, his jaw was bruised around swollen jowls, and his bottom lip was split down the center and distended. Judging from the way he moved, these were not the only injuries he’d sustained.

“What happened to you?” he inquired, surmising that, if his current state was any indication, the steward had no idea what hit him.

“I dunno’,” he replied, his speech still slurred. “I went down to the cellar to fetch another bottle of wine. That’s all I know. I must have missed the step, or tripped over the wine crates we brought back from Porthallow. Some nodcock left them in the doorway. I woke up on the cellar floor right after first light. Odd thing is I dreamed we had a go-round, and you planted me a facer.”

“You shouldn’t drink wine. You know how you get. Once you start you can’t stop. You’ve no one but yourself to blame for the state of your condition, or that getting foxed cancelled your… appointment. It’s no less than you deserve, old boy.”

“What appointment?”

“You forgot that, too, eh? Why doesn’t that surprise me? Never mind. I’m busy, Jim, that’s why I left instructions that I not be disturbed, but since you’re here in spite of that, we need to talk. Two men were here looking for you earlier—Swinton and Stokes, I believe they said their names were. Something about you being into them for a couple hundred pounds?”

“I… I can explain that, Drake. I was drunk, and I bet too heavily. It got away from me. Odds fish, man, they’re sharks. I was way out of my element, and they plucked me. They aren’t the only ones. That’s why I came down just now. I need you to cover my vowels just once more. I swear I shan’t ever drink when I gamble again.”

“I can’t do that, Jim,” Drake replied levelly, shaking a slow head. “I just staked you at Fenchman’s Creek. I’m not Golden Ball you know. “You’re on your own from now on. The joyride is over.”

“What do you mean? I need your help, Drake. You can’t just… just…”

“I’m afraid I can, old boy.” He yanked the bell rope, and unlocked the door.

“It
was
locked!” Ellery snapped. “What’s wrong with that door? Why wouldn’t it open for me? I’m not so hung-over that I don’t know how to turn a key in a lock.”

“I’ve had the lock changed—and for the valuables chest as well.”

“Why?” the steward said, around a nervous laugh.

Drake studied him then. That announcement had sobered him slightly, and his worried stare was all too readable. No. He wasn’t going to be able to wait for Bradshaw and Mills.

“The contents of my chest—of this room—come to that, don’t concern you any longer, Jim,” he said steadily, “I said we needed to talk. I’ll be brief. You may sit if you like. You look about to come down in any case.”

“Stubble that!” Ellery sputtered, incredulous. “Y-you changed the lock of the valuables chest?”

“I had to, Jim, you’ve robbed me blind.”

“
Robbed you
? Have you gone addle-witted?”

“There’s no use to lie. I know. You won’t be facing incarceration in the Fleet for debt. That would be the easy way out of this wouldn’t it? No. What I uncovered on the tour is more than enough to see you slapped into Newgate Gaol for good and all. That’s why we need to have this little talk.”

The steward lost his color. His pale eyes darkened, and his mustache began to twitch. The look alone damned him. Drake had seen it many times before, when he’d been caught cheating at cards. He would try to wriggle out of it, just as he always had in the past. The calculating wheels were already in motion. Those cold, blackened eyes he knew so well were darting madly around the room, as though he sought to pull the means to his salvation from the very air.