Light to Valhalla (39 page)

*
             
*
             
*

Moonlight shifted in and out of the
cloud cover, throwing long, eerie shadows
over the wintry gardens of
Chrisington
House
.
Blind in the darkness, Sidney
slipped
on a
thatch of ice, tumbling to the frozen ground
.

Crack
.
Pain and tingles shot up his arm
.
“Son o
f bitch,” he groaned, a slew of other curses streaming through his mind
.
Just what he needed, a broken elbow to
match the b
l
ack eye and fat lip Alex had given him at
Brumble
H
all
.
At least Alex came out looking the fool after that debacle
.
A cuckolded
fool
no less
.
If not for the
excruciating pain throbb
ing the length of his arm—dear G
od even his armpit
hurt—he may have laughed alou
d
.
He could not have planned a more perfect scene
.
Sid clamored to his feet, cradling the injured arm
.
He flexed his fingers, further assessing the damage
.
Hurt like hell, but
everything seemed in working or
der,
thank the L
ord for that.

With overt care he stepped
through the
withered
garden to
the
decrepit
backdoor and
slipped through
.
S
urreptitiously
he crept
through the darkened manse
to the master bedchamber at the back of the second floor
.
It had been months since he’
d been there, but he wove through the maze of halls as though he’d been there yesterday
.
Some things a man did not forget
.
A sliver of yellow light pea
ked beneath the bedroom door, and S
idney entered without knocking.

Minions of c
andles
perched on
every flattened surface of the
room
fr
om the floor to the windowsills
.
E
ach flame
danced and weaved to
it’s
own rhythm, lending a haunted quality to the room’s atmosphere
.
Dim golden light deepened the red interior
,
leaving the walls, curtains, and carpets the
burgundy hue
of blood
.
At the center of the ghostly
scene sat Veronica, draped
all in white, her silver blond locks and ice blue eyes all but matching the gauzy fabric
while her crimson lips matched the room’s interior
.
Pale and b
rittle as porcelain
,
a lesser man would find her
unearthly
beauty
more than a little frightening, but Sid
knew the hot human body
beneath the
glasslike surface
well
.

“You beckoned?”

Veronica fixed
those huge
deep set eyes on
him and the
will to
breath
e escaped him
.
Aphrodite could not have claimed more beauty than this one woman
.
“I’ve been waiting for
you
over four hours,” she spat, the acid
in her tone belying her goddess
persona.

“Evidenced by the wax pooling in your carpet.
”
Feigning boredom
Sidne
y sauntered to the mahogany bookshelf and blew out one of the flickering flames
.
Veronica’s eyes narrowed dangerously
.
Sid chuckled and loosened his cravat,
leaning casually against the bookcase
.
“Come now, my dear, we both know you didn’t call me here to
shoot ice da
ggers at me
.
W
hat is
it you wish to discuss?
”

Her chilly gaze never wavered
.
“A
lex
ander
Rawlings.”

Anger flared
.
Of course she wanted
to discuss
Alex
.
Women always wanted Alex
.
Teeth clenched
he managed to keep his expression impassive.

“I want you to ruin him.
”

Pleasantly surprised S
id
crossed one leg over the other, settling i
n for a long, likely profitable
conversation
.
“Ruin him?  I thought you wanted him in the biblical sense
.
Have you had a change of heart
, my dear
?”

Veronica arranged the gauzy fabric at her waist
.
“Alex embarrassed me before the entire
ton
.
Twice
.
I want him to
suffer for it.
”

“Then it seems we are in accord, my lady.”

A malicious smile curved her ruby l
ips
.
“I thought as much
.
Pray
tell, Sidney, did you plan that little scene with his wife?”

“In part.
”
He touched the tender bridge of his nose
.
“I’ll likely sport two black eyes on the morrow, but the sacrifice was well worth it.”

“Yes, well, leading the ton to believe
his wife is carrying on an
illicit
affair will get the biddies gossiping to be sure, but when I’m through with him he’ll wish he was dead.
”
The sinister gleam in her gaze
indicated she wanted more than f
or
Alex to
wish
himself dead.

“Oh?  Do you have something in mind?”

“
He once had a relationship with Mrs. Barcelona did he not?”

“The courtesan?
  I daresay he did
.
How do you know of it?
”
Alex
wa
s painfully discreet.

“A woman has her ways.
”
S
he
smiled
elusively
.
“Now, tell me, have you seen her son?”

*
             
*
             
*

F
rom
the seat of
his barouche
Alex swept an assessing gaze across the passing harbor and nodded approvingly
.
Timber
m
asts
stood
tall and proud over the wharf,
watching over London,
and
inviting bystanders to step aboard for the promise of adventure
.
Mates scurried about the docks, loading and unloading c
argo
, expertly maneuvering lines and nettings
.
M
erchants
went about their business, finagling
deals
, scheduling shipments and whatever else
their trade entailed
.
The port was alive with
a
brand of
militaristic
efficiency Alex knew and
respected
.
While he was not a sailor, this was an e
nvironment he understood
.
He drew a refreshing breath of salt tinged air into his lungs
.
He’d always loved visiting or even just driving past the shipyard
.
There was something about the sea that excited him
.
Got in his blood
.

The port swept by, and
Alex sighed
.
H
e missed being busy
.

Oh, he had a slew of responsibilities to see
to:
A
stack of papers piled higher than that mast out yonder,
and
no less than five solicitors
begging for an audience in regard to
Coverstone
estate business
.
The
fiasco with Witherspoon
was
about to reach fever pitch
, and he still had to
prove
the bastard
ha
d kidnapped Charley—which brou
ght him to the business at hand
.
Alex
shoved
tho
ughts of
a simpler life
away, and
directed his driver to Bow Street
.

Once there he
requested an audience with
the chief magistrate
, Sirius Mott
.
Waiting for the
magister
, Alex ambled aimlessly about the s
imple wooden room
, and finally sat in one of the scarred wooden chairs lining the wall
.
He looked down at the plain brown fabric of his jacket—still thick with the scent of mothballs—and smoothed the cuff
.
He should have joined
the navy
.
If he’d joined the damn navy
perhaps the muck of his life could have
been
avoided at least in part
.
Certainly he’d never have had the stubborn, green, idiot Tobias Witherspoon under his command
.

“Lord
Coverstone
,
it is an honor to finally make your acquaintanc
e
.
Sirius Mott at your service.
”

Honor
.
Alex nearly scoffed aloud
.
Most in London would call
hi
s
presence a mockery
after last night
.
An insult to the eyes
.
His own wife had clung t
o him last night as though they’d never be together again
.
Alex stood, assessing the
magistrate’s
sincerity
.
Not yet
forty
,
his
wind weathered, bronzed skin
spoke of a life other than law enforcement and
made judging his true age near to impossible
.
Shrewd brown eyes gazed back at Alex, filled with honesty.

Alex bowed respectfully
.
“
Thank you, Mr. Mott.”

“
I must say, M
ajor, y
our service on the peninsula is legendary
.
We could all stand to learn from a strategist of your caliber.
”

Alex shifted uncomfortably
.
“Legendary may be a bit of a stretch.
”
Far better men than he deserved praise as legends, most lay six feet under,
eternally
slumbering in t
ar sealed
pine boxes
.
He cleared his throat
.
“I am here today in regard to a most sensitive matter, and
before we go any further I require your
utmost discretion.”

“Of course, my lord
.
”
He nodded g
ravely
.
“Please, do sit
.
Am I correct in assuming this has to do with the letter I received
a couple of weeks ago from a Mr. Reilly?”

“Yes
.
”
Alex situated himself on the same
hard backed chair he’d vacated just moments before
, and waited for the commodore to seat himself as well
.
“
A little over two weeks ago
my wife was abducted
by two men
and held for a 5000 pound ransom.”