How to Romance a Rake (37 page)

Anna’s laugh was sad, wistful. “I wish I could, Juliet,” she said. “Truly I do, but I know how difficult it can be to disengage oneself from a man once he has one in his spell. I don’t blame you, of course. I suspect Deveril, for all that he is the spawn of the Devil, can be quite charming. But until I am well and truly sure that you are no longer in his thrall, I’m afraid I cannot trust you.”

To Juliet’s relief she was saved a reply by the stopping of the carriage.

“Ah, excellent,” Anna said. “Here we are at last.”

Taking up her own mask, Anna folded it in half and bade Juliet to come closer. Guessing what she intended, Juliet cursed inwardly as Anna tied it around Juliet’s eyes, like a blindfold.

“I apologize for this, Juliet,” she said soothingly, “but it is the trust issue again, I’m afraid. I have no doubt you will prove yourself loyal to me soon enough. After all, I have had so many more years with you than Deveril has.”

Praying that she would soon have many more years with Deveril, Juliet allowed herself to be led from the carriage. And prayed.

*   *   *

When Deveril, Winterson, and Monteith arrived at the Sydenhams’, it was to find Cecily and Maddie waiting for their carriage in the entrance hall.

“Thank God you’re here, Winterson,” Cecily said with relief as she spied them. “Juliet is missing.”

“Dammit,” Alec said, his frustration making him curt. “What happened?”

“She didn’t tell us why she wished to come tonight,” Maddie said. “But we suspected she was coming to meet someone about Mrs. Turner.”

“Why?” Winterson asked, his gaze on Cecily.

“She was never very good at keeping secrets,” his wife explained. Then realizing that she was talking about the girl who had kept her amputation a secret for years, she shrugged. “Not this kind of secret, anyway.”

“She has never liked attending balls before so we guessed she must have received word about Mrs. Turner, so we agreed to come with her,” Maddie said. “Then when we found this, our suspicions were confirmed.”

Maddie held out the note Juliet had dropped in the portrait gallery.

“I think she meant to leave this for us,” she said, her brows drawn. “As a clue when she left with Mrs. Turner.”

“How do you know she wasn’t taken?” Alec asked, looking up from the note Anna had sent Juliet.

“We asked Lady Sydenham’s footmen if they remembered seeing anyone in the gallery. And aside from Juliet, they described a lady in Grecian dress whom I assume was Mrs. Turner. And he said he saw them leave together. Juliet was walking on her own. With no prodding from Mrs. Turner.”

Alec cursed again, and turned to leave.

“Wait, Deveril,” Winterson said, hurrying after him. “You don’t know where they’ve gone.”

“I have a good idea,” Alec said as Monteith, Cecily, and Maddie caught up to them. “Turlington kept some rented rooms in Cheapside where he painted and God knows what else. It’s where his body was found. It will be empty still since the runners have requested they not be let again until they’ve finished their investigation. I have little doubt that Mrs. Turner will return there for whatever it is she means to do to Juliet.”

Winterson nodded. “Here’s our carriage,” he said as the conveyance Cecily had called for earlier arrived. “Take it.”

“Not without us,” Cecily protested, pulling Maddie along behind her.

With a sigh, Alec handed them into the carriage, followed by Winterson and Monteith.

He was in a hurry, but he would doubtless need all the help he could get if he were going to get Juliet back unharmed.

Twenty-four

Juliet blinked against the candlelight when Anna removed the blindfold from her eyes. They were in what was clearly an artist’s studio. Presumably Turlington’s, or
Il Maestro
’s if the paintings were anything to judge by.

“I am sorry for that,” Anna said, stepping back from where Juliet stood near the mantel. “As you can see, we are in the studio of the artist formerly known as
Il Maestro
. Of course he is known only as dead now.”

The gallows humor was lost on Juliet, who was still trying to accustom herself to the idea that the woman she’d known as a dear friend was also a murderess. Still, it would not do to anger her. She didn’t wish to end up like Turlington.

“So how did you dispatch him?” she asked, looking away from the macabre paintings lining the wall. “I can only hope that it was something befitting his crimes,” she added, hoping to convince Anna that she was pleased to learn of Turlington’s demise.

“Oh, have no fear of that,” Anna assured her, gesturing that Juliet should take a seat before the fireplace. “I treated him like the rat he was.”

The room was chilly, and Juliet couldn’t help a little shiver as Anna knelt before the fire to light it. For a fleeting second, she considered using her walking stick to subdue her captor, but Anna turned just as Juliet thought of it.

“Excellent,” she said, hoping she sounded as if she approved of her friend’s murderous actions.

“You needn’t placate me, Juliet,” Mrs. Turner said with a rueful smile. “I know you are somewhat horrified by what I’ve become. But that’s just because you are still under Deveril’s thumb. You will see the sense in what I’ve done and what I plan before long. It will just take a bit of time for you to understand.”

“Th-thank you for your understanding, Anna.”

Taking the seat across from Juliet’s, Anna smiled. “It isn’t difficult. You were always my favorite pupil. Certainly the most talented. Once we have little Alice here with us, we will have a wonderful life here together. Without men to disturb us with their pawing and demands.”

“Alice?” Juliet asked, remembering the man who had tried to get into the baby’s room the other night. “Were you the one who tried to take her, then?”

“Of course,” Anna said seriously. “I thought to bring her here just as soon as Turlington was dead, but I realize now that was foolish of me. I should not have tried to bring her here until I had you here too.”

She reached across to grasp Juliet’s hand. “It will be wonderful. Mark my words.”

Just then, a light knock sounded on the door of the room, and a footman bearing a tea tray stepped inside.

“Here you are, madam,” the man said, his face lowered so that Juliet had a difficult time seeing it.

*   *   *

They’d had the Winterson coachman stop several houses down from Turlington’s house so as not to alert Mrs. Turner, should she indeed have Juliet there. The gentlemen left a protesting Cecily and Maddie behind with instructions to wait in the carriage. And when they walked the short distance to Turlington’s house they saw that there were lights burning within.

“You were right, Dev,” Winterson told him in an undertone. “Now how do we manage to get inside without endangering Juliet?”

“I suppose knocking on the door and paying a social call is out?” Monteith asked, only half joking. “Sometimes the easiest way is the most direct.”

“In this case, I don’t think so,” Deveril said. “For all that she helped Turlington dispatch half a dozen women, her real enmity is for men. I think having the three of us show up on her doorstep would be met with the same welcome as Napoleon visiting Allied headquarters.”

“Good point.” Monteith nodded.

“There are certain men that she can’t help but deal with,” Winterson said suddenly.

At Deveril’s and Monteith’s questioning looks, he grinned, and indicated that they should follow him around to the mews.

“Servants,” Winterson said. “Is Mrs. Turner about to acquire three new footmen?”

Alec nodded. “According to Greenshaw, Turlington’s valet has remained to see that his master’s possessions are properly distributed and disposed of. I do not see why he would not have brought some of the footmen from Turlington House to assist him.”

It took but a few minutes to lure Turlington’s elderly valet from the kitchens and subdue him. As the shortest of the three, Deveril was the one who was assessed to be the most likely to fit into the old man’s clothes. It was a testament to his love for Juliet that he donned the filthy garments without once complaining at their ill fit.

The only other servant had been a cook, who was more than happy to take the princely sum given her by Monteith and embark for her sister’s house in Yorkshire.

Alec was just buttoning up the coat when Cecily and Maddie slipped into the kitchen of the mean little house.

“Why are you here?” Winterson demanded. “You should go back to the carriage.” Then remembering that the carriage was likely a dark London street away, he amended, “You should go out into the garden.”

“Juliet is our cousin and our friend,” Cecily told him firmly, mindful of keeping her voice low lest Mrs. Turner hear them. “And I will not wait quietly while she is in danger.”

“Besides that,” Maddie added, her voice equally low, “you might need us. Especially since it appears that Mrs. Turner is not at all fond of gentlemen.”

“She has a point,” Monteith said quietly. “Maybe we should send one of them in with the tea tray.”

“Absolutely not,” Winterson and Deveril said at once. The two exchanged a look of equanimity.

“I am going,” Alec said, pulling down the tail of his coat. “When I give the signal, come in. Do you remember which book?”

“Yes,” Winterson said. “Good luck.”

With a brisk nod, Alec took up the laden tea tray and made his way through the house and into Turlington’s study, where he found the secret passageway already opened. Well, that was one less hoop Winterson and Monteith would need to jump through when he gave the signal.

Inside the studio, he saw to his relief that Juliet was well enough and seated before the fire talking with Mrs. Turner.“I don’t recognize you,” Mrs. Turner said curtly. “Where is Jones?”

“It’s his ’alf day, madam,” Alec said, a note of placation in his tone. “I’m ’is nephew, Thomas.”

*   *   *

Juliet looked at the fellow; something about his voice made her heart beat faster. Careful not to let Anna notice, she looked the man over and was once again struck by a familiarity. She knew those wide shoulders, that nipped-in waist, even the boots polished to a high gloss.

That was no servant! That was her husband!

“Thank you so much,” she said, her enthusiasm brighter than the situation warranted. “I am parched.”

Daring to look up into her husband’s face, Juliet was unaccountably reassured by his wink. “A nice cuppa is just the thing, me mam always says, miss,” he said. “Especially when yer expectin’ a crowd for supper.”

“Well, we aren’t expecting a crowd, young man,” Anna snapped, “so you may take your platitudes and return to the kitchen.”

Juliet stared at Alec, trying to figure out what he’d meant. “Expecting a crowd,” he’d said. Could he mean that she should expect more help? Yes, that had to be what he meant.

“Aye, madam,” he said to Anna. “I’ll just go back to the kitchen and stir the pot. Don’t you worry none. We’ll take care of things right and tight.”

Obviously the admonition not to worry meant Alec had some plan, Juliet thought. But what? Who had he brought with him? She had no concerns for herself, since Anna, though deranged, seemed willing enough to trust her. But Alec could be in real danger—especially given Anna’s hatred of the entire male sex.

“No need to trouble yourself,” she assured him, hoping that he understood her. “I am quite able to take care of myself.”

“That I don’t doubt, miss,” he said, stepping back from Juliet’s chair and backing toward the door.

Breathing a sigh of relief that Alec was out of danger, Juliet sipped her tea. “Anna,” she ventured, hoping that if she kept Anna talking that Alec would have a chance to put whatever plan he had into effect. “How long have you known Lord Turlington?”

“I suppose there’s no harm in telling you now,” Mrs. Turner said with a laugh. “Now that you’re away from that brute you married.

“I’ve known Turlington since I was in my teens,” she continued. “He was visiting his uncle, Squire Ramsey, who owned the living at Little Wittington where my father was vicar. Unfortunately, Turlington was just as much of a brute then as he is now. Juliet, you have learned yourself by now, I’m sure. But I was a poor innocent girl then and though I thought Turlington was a gentleman he proved to be anything but.”

“He raped you?” Juliet asked quietly.

“Oh, yes.” Anna laughed bitterly. “And what should my darling papa do but accuse me of luring the young man to his doom? Always, always men stick together. Whenever there is anything that they might blame on us, they do.”

“But Signor Boccardo was there to take care of you, was he not?”

“Yes. Thank goodness for the signore. Without him I don’t know what I should have done. He has been more of a father to me than ever my own was. Though Papa paid for his sins in the end.”

Her mentor’s tone sent a chill down Juliet’s spine. “What do you mean, Anna?”

“Well, I could not let him get away with it, could I?” Anna sipped her tea as if she and Juliet were two old friends discussing the weather. “It was for his own good. I did regret that my mother and sisters had to suffer as well. But they were in a better place. Certainly better than this nasty place.”

Juliet marveled that she’d not been able to see just how damaged Anna was before tonight. Always, at every suggestion that Anna might be less than righteous, Juliet had given her friend the benefit of the doubt. How many people might have been saved if only Juliet had seen her friend for what she was?

“Madam.” Alec had once more stepped into the parlor, this time carrying a heavy tray. “I thought perhaps you might like some biscuits to go with yer tea.”

“Ah, excellent,” Anna said, turning to look at him. “I am quite peckish.”

Then, something flashed across her face and Juliet knew she’d realized Alec was not what he seemed.

“Wait,” she said with a frown, pulling a dueling pistol from her pocket and standing. “I’ve just remembered. Jones doesn’t have any nephews. Who are you?” Anna demanded, pointing the pistol at Alec.

Before Alec could respond, Juliet stood as well, grasping her walking stick. “Anna, no!”