Never Love a Scoundrel (39 page)

Jason shook his head as he finished buttoning his waistcoat. “He’s a criminal, Lydia. He has been for years. Bow Street has evidence he’s behind the robberies and that he was involved in Lady Aldridge’s death.”

Lydia’s hands trembled. He couldn’t have been. Not when he’d been so charming. “There has to be an explanation. Have you tried to speak with him?”

“Many times. He would never tell me what he was doing. He said he couldn’t trust me, that he couldn’t trust anyone.” He pressed his lips together until the flesh around his mouth and the length of his scar turned white. “I was a fool to believe his lies.”

She recollected what Ethan had told her at the musicale when he’d asked her to teach him to waltz. “He didn’t choose to be a criminal—at least, it wasn’t his first choice. He was alone in the world. You and your mother turned your backs on him.”

Jason speared her with a furious stare. “Don’t defend him to me. I’m sorry for his lot, but we all have choices and he chose to target your house. Furthermore, he’s been lying to me for weeks.” His lip curled making him look particularly fearsome. “On second thought, I’m not sorry for him at all.”

A knock on the door caught both of their attention. Jason helped Lydia into her gown, which took an agonizing few minutes. “Come,” he called when they were finished.

Scot, followed quickly by North, stepped into the bedchamber. Their faces were pale and drawn. Or rather, Scot’s was. North’s was just pale.

“What is it?” Jason sounded alarmed, but looking at his retainers, he ought to be. Lydia was.

“One of the footmen—Kerr—has been found dead,” North informed him, his attention fixed on Jason as if Lydia wasn’t there.

The blood leached from Jason’s face. “
Hell.
Where?”

“Outside in the alley near the back wall. Dockley went to relieve his post and found him. His throat had been slit, my lord. And his livery was stripped from him.”

Lydia clasped Jason’s hand and squeezed it.

“Is Teague still in my office?” Jason asked.

“I’m afraid Mr. Teague received a message and left awhile ago,” North said.

Jason let go of Lydia’s hand as Scot came forward with his coat and helped him to don the garment. “Damn, did he say where he was going?”

North shook his head once. “He did not, my lord.”

“Did the other Runners leave with him?” Jason tugged his coat in place.

North frowned. “I’m not certain.”

“That’s all right, North. Send someone to Bow Street—even if Teague isn’t there, someone should be able to find him.” Jason turned to Scot. “Gather some footmen and try to find Ethan—he should have arrived by now. I’ll be down as soon as I can.”

Both men nodded and took themselves off with alacrity.

Jason turned to her and clasped her shoulders. “I don’t want you here when they take Ethan. I’ll send one of my footmen up to see you home.”

“I still can’t believe Ethan would do this. He has to have changed.” Her mind struggled to make sense of this. “Why would a criminal want to learn to waltz?”

“Lydia, Bow Street has proof—testimony from a man who works for Ethan. He directed Lady Aldridge’s death.” His eyes were sad. “I’m sorry to have to share such details with you, but you need to know what sort of man he is.

“I need to go.” His gaze raked her from crown to toe, turning a bit wistful when he finished. “Do you need someone to help you?”

“No, thank you.” Her hair undoubtedly looked a fright, but she’d manage.

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her temple. “I’ll call on you tomorrow.”

Lydia nodded and watched him leave.

With a heavy sigh, she found her slippers and slid them onto her feet. She still couldn’t fathom Ethan stealing from her, let alone being responsible for Lady Aldridge’s death. Good heavens, what would Audrey say when Lydia told her? She’d be just as shocked as Lydia. Perhaps even more so; Audrey had actually
flirted
with him.

After what seemed a least a quarter hour, there was a rap on the door. Lydia cracked it open to reveal a stocky footman she’d never seen before.

“I’m here to see you home, my lady,” he said with a helpful smile. His face was kind and genuine, and he immediately set her at ease. “I’m Jimmy.”

“Jimmy?” she asked, as he gestured for her to precede him. “You don’t go by a surname?”

“No, my lady. I’m just Jimmy.” He hastened beside her. “We must hurry. His lordship wants you on your way as soon as possible.”

“Of course.” She quickened her pace, and they were halfway down the stairs to the foyer when she realized she wasn’t wearing a mask. If anyone saw her she’d be ruined—but did that really matter? Cheerfully, she acknowledged it didn’t.

Jimmy hurried even faster when they stepped into the foyer, and ushered her out the door before anyone caught sight of her, but then they hadn’t seen a soul. Which was odd. Shouldn’t someone have been stationed in the foyer? Or were they all involved with the dead footman? Lydia grew a bit queasy as she realized death was very nearby.

She slowed as they walked toward the street, which was lined with a handful of coaches, none of which belonged to Jason. What vehicle was she to take? Confused, she turned to Jimmy, but he wasn’t paying attention to her. He was turning his head this way and that.

“What is it?” she asked, alarm beginning to wind its way through her.

Jimmy took her arm and pulled her to the street. “We need to be hailin’ a hack.”

His voice subtly changed, triggering her alarm to erupt into full-blown fear. She tried to pull away from the footman’s grasp. “I think I’d rather go back inside.”

His grip tightened and after glancing up and down the street, he tugged her across, though she pointlessly tried to dig her feet into the stones.

“Let me go!” Her voice climbed, but the flash of steel silenced her immediately.

He’d pulled a knife from his boot and brought it to within an inch of her face. “Unless ye fancy a scar to match the one on yer lordship’s cheek, keep yer mouth shut. Do as I say, and ye won’t bleed.” His crisp servant’s diction had been completely replaced with the language of someone from a far lower class.

Lydia bit her cheek to keep from screaming and prayed Jason would find her. But he thought she’d gone home. He wouldn’t realize she hadn’t actually arrived there until tomorrow morning. By then, who knew what would have happened to her?

Fear iced her body as her captor pulled her along to God-only-knew-what fate.

Chapter Twenty-five

JASON RUSHED
down to the foyer and met North. “Has anyone found Ethan yet?”

“No, my lord. It’s possible he hasn’t arrived, or that he saw the Bow Street Runners stationed about and left.” North clasped his hands behind his back in his usual stance, but there was a current of energy coursing through him, as though he were ready to spring into action at any moment.

Jason had been angry when Teague had shown up with four other Runners earlier in the evening. Ethan was far too smart, and if he sensed this was a trap, he’d leave and they might never find him.

Scot came through the foyer at that moment. He paused upon seeing Jason. “There’s one Runner still here. He’s out in the alley with Kerr.” Scot’s expression was grim, but carried a hint of fury. “I’d like to get my hands around the neck of whoever did that to him.”

Jason felt the same, perhaps even more so since he suspected his half brother, who’d utterly and successfully duped him. “Still no sign of Ethan?”

“Not yet. Your guests sense something is wrong, but we’ve kept Kerr’s death quiet. Though I don’t know how much longer that will last.”

Jason nodded. “I need someone to see Lydia home. I want her out of here as soon as possible.”

North inclined his head. “I’ll send someone to take care of it.” He turned and departed with long strides.

Jason pivoted toward Scot, whose expression still hovered somewhere between anger and sadness. “Where have you searched for Ethan?”

“I was about to go upstairs.”

Jason’s memory went back to his last vice party. Ethan had snuck into the billiards room undetected. He could very well have done the same thing tonight. “I’m going to the gaming room.”

Scot shook his head. “I looked there.”

“It’s possible you didn’t know what you were looking for.” Jason hastened to the billiards room and quickly scanned everyone present as he moved through it. There were only a few men wearing masks, and none of them were Ethan. And whereas Jason hadn’t been able to easily recognize him at the last vice party, he felt certain he’d know him anywhere now.

He reached the back of the room and stood near the terrace doors, one of which was open partway, presumably to allow the cool air inside. But what if it wasn’t? Cautiously, Jason pushed the door wider and stepped outside.

A sconce on the exterior wall illuminated this area of the terrace. Jason stopped short at the sight of Ethan bent over a body. Ethan’s eyes met Jason’s. Slowly, he stood. A circle of blood was spreading from the body—it was Wolverton. Jason’s gaze landed on a blood-covered knife dangling from Ethan’s hand.

Jason moved forward haltingly, looking between the surely dead Wolverton and Ethan. “What have you done?”

Ethan turned toward him and stepped away from Wolverton. “I didn’t do this.”

Revulsion turned Jason’s stomach. “It looks to me like you did.” Jason turned his head and registered the arrival of Teague.

The Runner stepped out onto the terrace and moved next to Jason. “Put the knife down, Jagger.”

“Teague, I thought you left,” Jason said, returning his attention to Ethan.

“I did, but I’ve just returned, and not a moment too late, I see.”

Ethan held up his hands. Blood dripped from the knife and landed on the stone like a scarlet raindrop. “I know this looks bad, but I didn’t kill Wolverton.”

Jason stared at him. “I defended you. I foolishly believed you’d changed. And you stole from my fiancée.” He clenched his fists, hoping he’d finally have the opportunity to break the bastard’s nose.

Ethan fixed him with an earnest stare. “I didn’t steal from Lydia. It was Wolverton. I told you there was someone else involved.”

And that someone was a marquess? It shouldn’t have been impossible to believe since the Earl of Aldridge had been running a gang, but how many bloody noblemen were working for Gin Jimmy? Or was Ethan lying again? “Forgive me for not trusting you, but you’ve made that goddamned difficult. Do you have proof?”

“We do,” Teague interjected. “I left earlier because I’d received a message directing me to Wolverton House. We found several stolen objects, including a necklace that belongs to Lady Lydia.”

Jason exhaled. He was relieved to learn Ethan hadn’t lied—at least about stealing from Lydia.

Teague took a step toward Ethan. “Did you kill Wolverton to eliminate your competition?”

“Why would I do that when I expected you to arrest him?” Ethan glared at the Runner with equal parts contempt and arrogance, neither of which was going to help his cause. “Who do you think sent the note directing you to Wolverton House?”

Jason tried to make sense of everything and wished to hell his brother had trusted him with whatever plan he’d been executing. “Why are you standing here with a bloody knife?”

Ethan glanced at the weapon, and Jason caught the flicker of disgust in his eyes. “I’m telling you I didn’t do this. I don’t expect them to believe me, but I hope you do.”

Jason didn’t know what to believe. He’d spent far longer hating this man than he had liking him. And how did you have faith in someone who didn’t have faith in you?

“Ethan, I’m going to have to arrest you for the murder of Wolverton and possibly the murder of Lord Lockwood’s footman.” Teague took another step. “And for organizing the death of Lady Aldridge.”

Ethan backed up. “I didn’t do that. It was Oak—he was following Gin Jimmy’s orders. And Gin Jimmy killed Wolverton.” He glanced at Jason. “One of your footmen is dead?”

Before Jason could answer, Teague asked, “You expect me to believe Gin Jimmy came out of his rookery to personally kill someone?” Teague’s tone clearly indicated he believed no such thing.

Ethan’s nostrils flared, and his gray eyes flashed with anger. “Yes, goddammit, he’s in the house. He’s wearing Lockwood livery. But you need to hurry, he may have slipped out by now.”

Jason began to understand what may have happened. “Why did Gin Jimmy come here tonight?”

“To kill Wolverton.” Ethan gave a subtle nod, as if he were trying to communicate something additional to Jason. “Gin Jimmy thought he’d turned against him.”

Jason thought he began to understand Ethan’s plan. He
had
been trying to change after all.
He’d
turned against Gin Jimmy, not Wolverton. “And he killed my footman to obtain my livery because he wanted to blend in and escape more easily?”

“We need to find him,” Ethan said. “It’s good that he’s wearing livery, so you’ll know what to look for. I’m sure Teague doesn’t know what he looks like.”

“No.” Teague looked conflicted. He glanced toward the house, but his stance was angled toward Ethan, his feet wide apart and his arms tensed. He was ready to fight. But he couldn’t hold Ethan and go after Gin Jimmy. “Lord Lockwood, where is the Runner who stayed behind?”