Edith Layton (14 page)

“Will they?” Leigh put in quickly. “They won’t
worry because you seem to be keeping Alasdair company? Rumor will certainly reach them.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I’ve written to them, telling them he’s just a friend.”

“They won’t worry about his reputation?” Leigh persisted. “Or mind the fact that you won’t be going home betrothed to him?”

Alasdair’s dark brows went down, he shot Leigh a quelling look.

Kate didn’t notice. “No,” she said. “My parents aren’t like my cousins. They’re in no hurry to see me married and gone. We have good times together, I’m very content where I am, and they know it. They trust my good sense, too. And I
have
good sense,” she said, paused, and added with a rueful smile, “…usually.

“At any rate, they know I’m having fun here, meeting all sorts of people, visiting and…Oh! Speaking of visitors,” she told Alasdair, “I’ve gotten an invitation to pay a call on some of my relatives. They asked if I could stop by to see them. I was going to set a date because I thought I’d be leaving London soon. Now that I know I won’t be, I think I’ll just put it off a while longer. You remember, we were speaking about them just the other day? My cousins, Lord and Lady Scalby,” she said to Alasdair’s polite look of inquiry.

His body stiffened. Kate thought he’d felt a stab of pain because he’d jarred something, and was trying to hide it.

“Indeed?” he breathed. “And when was this?”

“Just before I heard about you,” she said. “Are you all right?”

“I think Alasdair’s just a bit tired,” Leigh put in smoothly. “Sitting up this long is a strain. He’d never admit it, of course. But once he has no one to show off to, he might take a nap. Which is what he needs,” he
said, before Alasdair could speak. “So I think it’s time we reckoned how to get you home, don’t you think?”

Kate shot to her feet. “Of course,” she said in embarrassment, “I just needed to know how he was, I don’t want to make him worse!”

“
He
is not an object,” Alasdair said. “You might ask him.”

Leigh ignored him. “The problem is that even if Alasdair’s reputation were fine—which it is not yet—seeing you delivered home in his carriage would ruin yours. So I’ll call for a coach. No one will associate it with our friend here, or me. I’ll take you to within a street of the Swansons, let you off in a quiet place, and watch to be sure you get home safely.”

“That would be fine,” she agreed. “I’ll slip in the back door. Sibyl said she’d be waiting for me there.”

“I’ll send for a carriage, I’ll just be a moment,” Leigh said. He went to the door, and paused. “It’s not at all the thing to leave you two alone,” he said worriedly.

“It’s not at all the thing for her to be here, dolt,” Alasdair said. “And you were just proclaiming my fragility, weren’t you? Go. The only way the girl will be compromised is if she attacks me. You won’t, will you?” he asked Kate. “I’m so weak I don’t think I could fight you off.”

She laughed, Leigh shook his head, and hurried down the stair.

When he left, Kate did feel a little awkward. Since she didn’t know what to say she took the moment to look around the bedchamber at last, and wished she hadn’t. The room she was in would ruin any woman’s reputation.

Alasdair’s bed was massive, mahogany, with a carved headboard and fluted bedposts that held a great canopy suspended over it. The bed itself was piled with
crimson silk coverlets and so many pillows, it looked billowy as the sea. It was a bed a person could sink into and float away to sleep, or linger in, daydreaming, Kate thought. She suddenly pictured Alasdair lying in it. It wouldn’t be too big for him. She could imagine his powerful body eased by all the silken splendor…

She hurriedly looked away, her eyes sliding over fine furniture and ornate draperies that edged the tall windows. This was the sort of room she’d envisioned him in. She tried not to picture him waking and sleeping in it. She could hear the clock on his fireplace mantel ticking. She wished she knew what to say.

She looked back at Alasdair, and looked away. He was watching her. She didn’t think a little pain would matter to him if there was something he really wanted. She wished he’d say something so she could stop thinking of seduction. It was because he was always joking about it, she thought. It was because she was always thinking about it, she realized.

She turned back and looked him in the face, and was sorry she did. He was still staring at her, looking at her hungrily.

“Kate?” Alasdair asked softly.

“Mmm?” she said, trying to look as though she wasn’t thinking any of the things she was thinking.

“Tell me,” he said. “What else did your cousins, the Scalbys, want?”

She looked confused.

“I mean,” he said quickly, “though I need you, it pains me to think I’m keeping you from your family any more than I have to.”

“Oh,” she said, smiling. “Don’t worry about that. Remember what I told you? Any visit I pay to them will be purely for appearance’s sake. They won’t care. Why should they? I scarcely know them, or they, me.”

“Didn’t you want to remedy that here in London?”

She laughed. “You can only cure something that’s amiss. I don’t feel the need of them any more than they do of me. It’s all for show. Why, they haven’t written to us in years.”

“They did invite you to stay with them.”

“Because they had to. As the most senior members of my father’s family, they’re expected to. I knew better than to take them up on it, though.”

“So they’re patriarch and matriarch of your clan, are they?”

“Yes. Oh my!” she said excitedly. “I never thought! How foolish of me to prattle on about them the other night and never realize…How selfish of me! Whatever the strange stories one hears about them, they’re world travelers, so sophisticated, they’re sure to be important in the
ton
. Did you want their approval? Would it help establish you? I can certainly bear a visit with them for a good cause. If I arranged for us to meet them together, would it help, do you think?”

“Why, yes, so it would,” Alasdair said. “I’d like that. When I’m recovered, of course.”

“But right now, she must go home,” Leigh said from the doorway.

“Fine, there’s no hurry,” Alasdair told him.

“I’m no longer so sure of that,” Leigh said. “Come, Miss Corbet. Time to leave. Past time, I begin to think.”

L
eigh cracked open the door and peered inside. Alasdair wasn’t sleeping, he wasn’t even in his bed. He still sat in the chair he’d been in when Leigh had left with Kate.

“You can go to sleep now,” Leigh reported, “She’s home and safely so. No one saw her. I’ll be back later.”

“Come in now,” Alasdair said. “I can’t sleep yet, I’m expecting a visitor or two. Don’t scowl. I have to know who attacked me and why, and I won’t find the answers in my dreams.”

Leigh came in the room, frowning. “What else is there to know? My friends in His Majesty’s service and the redbreasts at Bow Street agree. The dead man was a well-known villain with a dozen such crimes to his name. The other was probably his partner, and they know who he is. The only reason the pair haven’t swung at Newgate is because they’re too efficient.
Their usual victims aren’t as fit or well trained as you are, and so they’ve been able to dispose of them more neatly.”

“Exactly,” Alasdair said with grim satisfaction. “I wasn’t their usual prey. I want to find out why I was favored with their attentions the other night.”

“You were there, it was late, no one else was around. It was a crime of opportunity,” Leigh said patiently. “The two of them must have been coming home from some enterprise in the neighborhood, or setting out on another, because they were far from their usual haunts. They happened to see you, a well-set-up gent alone at that hour of the night. They saw there was no one else around, thought you might be drunk and careless, and they dared. They lost. At least one did, and when the Watch set up a screech the other was too flustered to go for your money. He cut line and ran. A simple attack and theft gone wrong. What else could it be? Oh Lord,” he said, looking at Alasdair’s grim face. “Not
that
again.”

“And why not?” Alasdair said quietly.

Leigh ran a hand through his hair. “Of course,” he muttered, “I should have known. That’s why you’re pushing poor Kate into taking you to them. You think it was the Scalbys?”

“
Poor
Kate?” Alasdair asked. “I told you she would be unscathed.”

“I begin to wonder. She cares more than you think, or I imagined. And even if she doesn’t,” he went on before Alasdair could disagree, “see how she almost compromised herself today for your sake? The woman doesn’t do things by half measures. She’s wholehearted and sincere. I wish you’d reconsider involving her.”

Alasdair’s face was too bland. “Again, I ask, though
it grows tedious. Have you an interest there? If so, I’ll of course step back. But consider your answer carefully. I won’t ask again.”

Leigh was still.

Alasdair nodded. “Then, let it be. I’ll see she comes to no harm.”

“You actually believe they hired someone to attack you?” Leigh asked. “Why? Oh,” he answered himself, “you think they got wind of your schemes and think killing you will save them?”

“It wouldn’t. I’ve made provisions in case of my untimely end. But they don’t know that, do they? And of a certainty they have wind of my schemes. I made sure of it. That adds the spice to the dish I plan to serve them.”

“But if they’re as dangerous as you say, then Kate…”

Alasdair cut him off. “They are,” he said. “But not to Kate. She’s only an obscure young miss from the countryside, a distant relative of theirs, so they’ve nothing to gain by harming her. Or perhaps they do,” he murmured, his dark brows knitting together. “Or would. She
is
lovely. They haven’t seen her for years, but they’d take note of that and find a purpose for her if they saw her now.”

“Then for God’s sake, whatever else you do, at least tell her that,” Leigh declared, “and keep her away from them.”

Alasdair frowned. “I suppose I must.” He paused, thoughtful. “It changes my plans somewhat, but it won’t be difficult. She didn’t want to see them until she was ready to leave London, then she said she’d go with me. I’ll forestall that. Kate’s already served my purposes, she’s gotten them to break their silence. I can do the rest alone. By the time I’m done with them
they’ll no longer be a threat to anyone. There’s no point in frightening Kate if I don’t have to, is there? I’ll keep abreast of the situation, don’t worry. I may look like I’m at my last prayers, but I can still protect her.”

Leigh seated himself opposite his friend and looked at him gravely. “Alasdair, this passion of yours about the Scalbys borders on obsession.”

“No, it doesn’t!” Alasdair laughed. “It crossed over that border years ago. Don’t fret, my friend,” he added seriously. “I’m not mad. Or rather, I am, that’s the problem. Mad, as in enraged. Not daft, not by a long shot, not yet. I need my wits for what I want to do and I’ve kept them sharp.” He saw Leigh’s set expression. “I’ll settle this and move back over the border to sanity, all right?”

Leigh was silent.

“You don’t believe me?” Alasdair asked. “You don’t think I’m capable of rational thought when it comes to them? Then I’ll try to convince you. If you’ll be kind enough to interview the fellows I’m expecting, and find out if there’s any news of the man that got away, or who sent him, I’ll go to bed now. You’re right. My ribs ache like the devil.”

“I’ll do it and gladly,” Leigh said, rising. “I’m pleased that you’re finally making sense.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Alasdair grunted as he rose with painful care and leaned on his friend’s offered arm. “Because how else can I heal soon enough to see Kate again, and maybe this time, find out more?”

“I worry about you.” Leigh sighed.

“That makes two of us,” Alasdair replied.

Alasdair lay in his great bed waiting for sleep to join him there. He had hopes of it even though it was broad daylight, because he’d drunk an evil draught the doc
tor had given him to ensure it. There were important things to be done, but he knew this was the first. Sleeping would knit his wounded body and calm his mind so that he could be up and about his business again.

The draperies on the windows were drawn, the ones around his bed never were. He didn’t like feeling as though he were sleeping in a closed box, that made him too vulnerable. Nor could he nap, drowsing away the afternoon as so many gentlemen did. A fashionable fellow would have a heavy luncheon, well fortified by ale or wine, then go to his club to settle in a chair for an afternoon doze, or return to his house to sleep until it was time to get up, dress and go out for a night’s pleasure that would last until dawn.

Alasdair considered that a waste of daylight. Besides, sleeping by day gave rise to strange dreams. He also hated to wake disoriented, finding dusk where there should have been dawn. Still, the bed was soft, the sheets clean and fragrant. He found a position that if not comfortable for his abused body, was at least bearable. But when he closed his eyes, he still saw too much.

Was
he too obsessed with revenge? Of course. Was Kate in any danger? Perhaps. He hadn’t anticipated that, so he’d have to move quickly—when he could move again. Which meant he had to sleep.

He shifted to another position. Was he in any danger? That meant nothing to him. He’d been in danger many times before. It didn’t matter what happened to him so long as he won in the end. Now he knew he would. He’d made sure the Scalbys knew it, too.

So, in effect, he’d already won.

That made their attack on him something he could appreciate. It hadn’t been to stop him, as Leigh had thought. Alasdair knew them too well for that. The at
tack was to take revenge on him for what he’d done and would soon finish doing. But they’d failed. It was all over except for the celebrating.

So where was the vaunting joy? The exquisite reward for all his hard work? He didn’t feel much of anything anymore, but he’d been sure he’d feel a rush of joy at knowing he’d have his ultimate triumph. He didn’t.

But when he faced them at last and saw the knowledge of his triumph in their eyes, then surely he’d experience the exultation, the thrill that eluded him, the final taste of victory that was due him.

The doctor’s sleeping draught began to work. Alasdair felt his body relax, his thoughts swirling, losing their tight focus. He thought of Kate, smiling as he envisioned her pretty face. A lovely woman, he thought lazily. Game, brave, and just unconventional enough in her thoughts and habits to constantly surprise him. Maybe, one day, when this was done…

His thoughts drifted back to that day when this would be over. He pictured the Scalbys’ impotent fury, and smiled. But it was hard to envision that, or them, because he saw them both as they’d been when he’d last seen them, from afar, a few years past, and yet just as clearly saw them as they’d been, so long ago.

Lady Scalby was beautiful, he’d never denied that. Then, and now. That last time he’d laid eyes on her she’d kept to the shadows at the edge of the candlelight, as many older women did, to hide the traces of the years that her slender form denied. Hers was always a beauty that masked the rot within. She was tall and dark, sloe-eyed, with the sort of elegance that defied the increasing years. Slender as a stripling lad and strong as a racehorse, almost masculine, with those strong features and spare form, but altogether a woman, and insatiably determined to prove it.

Her husband was dark, too, but small for a man, and stocky, which might have been why he clung to the styles of his youth. That way he could have lace frothing over the back of his stubby fingers to hide them, and wear long jackets to conceal his thick body and lack of length of leg. Everything about him was hidden, except the strange look in his eyes. They were so unusually light they hardly seemed human. Alasdair had seen dogs with such eyes, but theirs held more humanity.

Lady Scalby’s eyes were so dark it was hard to read her thoughts. But Alasdair knew them.

Their faces shimmered and shifted in Alasdair’s own mind’s eye. Yesterday and today blended as his drifting waking dream telescoped to nightmare. He saw eyes intently watching him. He squirmed, trying to escape them and what was fast descending on him. Sleep was coming, with familiar monsters to haunt it. It was unendurable. He wanted to wake, he had to leave the bed; but now, as then, he couldn’t. Once again, he was sucked under and swirled down into unconsciousness, silently screaming all the way.

“Now are you convinced?” Leigh asked with a slightly smug smile the next day.

Alasdair looked doubtful—and exhausted. He’d made it down to his study under his own power. The strain showed. He looked at his guests with a jaundiced eye, but could scarcely help that since it was still only partially opened.

“Leigh tells me you think a personal enemy engineered the assault on you,” the middle-aged gentleman sitting with them said. “I doubt it. Benny Lick was a bad man, but he and his partner always worked for themselves, never hired out to anyone so far as I know.”

“And Lord Talwin does know,” Leigh said. “There’s nothing going on that our guest doesn’t hear, Alasdair. He has his finger on the pulse of London. It’s valuable now, but when we have a real police force—as we are working for—it will be invaluable.”

“Oh, I agree.” Alasdair said. “Not just because of what happened to me. London’s grown too big as well as too poor since the war, there are too many hungry people in a city with too many well-fed ones, which is never a safe equation. A man’s servants can’t protect him all the time. Stationing pensioners and retired soldiers on our street corners won’t work either, not just because the poor fellows fall asleep at night. They’re too feeble to do more even if they were awake. Bow Street’s useful, but only for finding villains after the fact. A municipal police would be good, and will come. But not in time to solve this. So. Are you certain of your facts, sir?” he asked the older man. “No one’s caught the other rogue.”

“No, he’s vanished. Utterly. No one’s seen or heard of him since the night you were set upon. They think when he botched his work and lost his partner he left town, if not the country. So when you’re able to go out again, you should be safe enough, if you have some caution, like the rest of us. But you won’t be able to test that theory for a while.”

“But I intend to,” Alasdair said. “I have promises to keep and appointments to meet. Since the late unlamented Benny’s accomplice is long gone, I’ll go about them more easily.”

“Surely you won’t be venturing out soon?” the older man exclaimed.

Leigh sighed. “Surely, you don’t know St. Erth.”

“And if you’re wrong,” Alasdair mused after Lord Talwin had left, shaking his head at Alasdair’s folly, “and someone
is
after me, what better way to draw them out again?”

“You’re mad,” Leigh said.

“No, only half-mad, as usual,” Alasdair said. “Lord Talwin was a gentleman spy, a fine one in his time. He knows the criminal mind, but he knows educated ones. Not those from parts of the city he never ventures in. I do. I have some of them in my employ. They won’t speak to anyone but me, and they certainly won’t come here to do it. I have to go to them, the sooner the better. If an attack fails, there are always other ways to annihilate a foe. Arson is one of the things that comes to mind. And I rather like this old place. Poison’s another, and I’ve gotten rather fond of this old carcass, too.”

Leigh nodded, half-convinced. Until he saw Alasdair’s curling smile.

“
And
there’s to be a ball on Saturday next,” Alasdair said, “and I’ve promised a waltz to Kate.”

One minute they were waltzing among all the company, the next, the music picked up and Kate was whirled around until she was giddy. She was delighted. Alasdair was recovered enough to come to the ball with her, and well enough to enjoy it. She certainly did. Dancing with him was delightful. She danced until her head spun, until the room swirled around her, her only anchor his laughing eyes. But when she finally stopped spinning in his arms, she found he’d waltzed her through a long door and entirely out of the ballroom. The music stopped, she looked around.

They stood on a terrace that ran the length of the house. Golden light leaked from behind the draperies
on all the long windows that gave out onto it, and she could see by lamplight and moonlight that they stood overlooking a garden. There was a white marble balustrade around the terrace, twin white marble stairways led off and down into the garden beyond. Kate turned her flushed and smiling face up to Alasdair.