Three Nights of Sin (8 page)

“And the new victim?”

“That one too, I’m sure. I heard they rushed the body through.”

“Suspicious.”

Anthony tilted his head. “Or frightened.”

“Who was the first victim?”

“Mrs. Amanda Sinclair.”

Marietta thought the name sounded vaguely familiar. “The Sinclairs? Weren’t they just married? It was sudden? Banns barely read in Herefordshire, was it? She was someone from the countryside returned to London?”

“Sounds right. Part of the investigation took place in Herefordshire.”

Noble was looking over a paper on Anthony’s desk. “Perhaps the link is there. What was her previous name?”

Anthony shook his head. “Easy enough to find out, but I don’t know off the top of my head. I’ll send a post when I find it.”

“Arthur Dresden still assigned to the case?”

Anthony grimaced. “Yes.”

“I’ve not had the pleasure of meeting him yet, though his reputation precedes him.”

“Even as the newest Runner, he has wreaked havoc in the ranks. Hungry. Be careful of him, he doesn’t get on well with the patrollers or watch. Thinks they are useless.”

“Sometimes they are, but it’s never a good idea to let them know you think that.”

“Which tells you something about Dresden.”

“Indeed.”

Noble rose and Marietta rose with him. “Thank you, Anthony. Consider this and the victim’s name as first payment.”

Anthony nodded. “Good luck to you, Miss Winters. I’m sure that Mr. Noble will have your brother out of jail in no time.”

Marietta gaped at him. Noble took hold of her elbow and guided her into the hall. He dropped his hand, but she could still feel the imprint.

“How did he know?”

“Anthony is smart. And you weren’t being particularly coy. Come.”

“You did something for him?”

“Yes.”

“Your favors don’t seem that bad.”

A slow smile spread over his face. “I’m glad you don’t think so. But Marietta…” He leaned toward her and smoothed a lock of hair behind her ear, leaving tingles everywhere he brushed. “You have no idea what I have in store for you.”

M
arietta moaned. She should have been sick of eating soups and stews, but they were so
good
.

There was a knock on the front door, and since Noble looked disinclined to answer it, she did. A young boy stood on the stoop. “Message for Marietta.”

Odd that he used her first name, but she appreciated the discretion more than she could express. The last thing she needed was for someone to identify her as living here. She took the sealed paper and rooted in her hanging pocket for a coin, handing it to the boy. He tipped his hat and she closed the door.

She ran a finger over the long sloped handwriting and the eagle seal. She sat at the table to read her brother’s note, a tingle of guilt running through her that Mark was in worse straits at the moment—not enjoying delicious food, fending off the crowds. She’d sent him fifty pounds along with her address, hoping he would use the money for food. Knowing that soon she would have to let him know that the remaining
two hundred fifty was back in their accounts. She was afraid he’d squander it before they could use it to repay their debts.

Two lines were scrawled on the page. They were moving Kenny’s trial up and the barrister’s office had been cleaned out with no forwarding address.

She tapped a finger against the paper.

“What is it?” Noble continued writing and didn’t look up.

She read him the note. He paused, his pen hovering above his parchment.

“I see that Tannett took my advice. Good. As to your brother—your younger brother—we will need to see if we can hold off the trial.”

“How?”

He went back to writing. “I know who to ask. He’s holding a masquerade tonight. He loves his masquerades, the more debaucherous, the better. You will need to be dressed appropriately.”

He looked up, green eyes surveying her. “Do you have a domino or a mask?”

She clutched the note. “I do, but nothing risqué like you are suggesting.”

He waved a hand and went back to his page. “One of the tavern outfits will be more than perfect.”

Her jaw dropped. “Are you insane?” she hissed. “Who is your friend?”

“John Alcroft.”

She blinked. “I can’t attend a party held by John Alcroft dressed like that. People will
know
me there.”

“Not if you are a tavern wench wearing a mask, they won’t.” His pen scritched across the parchment.

“But—”

The scritching halted. “Look, Marietta. No one will notice you or identify you, trust me.” His gaze swept her. “You blend in too well.”

Her stomach tightened. “I realize I’m plain, but that doesn’t mean—”

“You aren’t plain. You are mutable.” He cocked his head. “Able to look differently depending on the situation and what you are wearing or how your hair is fixed. It’s a strength.”

She stared at him, her mouth ajar.

He leaned forward, a smile curving his lips to vie with his piercing eyes. “I’ll bet before this you wore your hair exactly the same way, every day. And your black or brown dresses? The same. You probably tilted your head the same way to every opening conversation salvo. And the way you glared and stared. The same. Rarely did you smile, I’ll bet, and have fun? Not for years.”

The only sounds she could hear were the continued simmering of the soup pot and the heavy beat of her heart.

“And from your silence I can see that I would win that bet easily. So tell me, Marietta. If you redo your hair, apply kohl around your eyes, and attach a mask, do you honestly think someone will recognize you?”

The seconds ticked by. She was frozen. He raised a brow then started scritching again.

No, there was no chance that she would be identified. Either as the boring fringe society member she was or the sister of the Middlesex murderer.

She hadn’t realized her actions were so…predictable. She hadn’t liked being out of control since very shortly after their parents’ deaths. Perhaps she had gone to the extreme.

There was freedom in going to the masquerade as someone else. She opened her mouth to respond when the back door banged open.

“Lovely day, isn’t it?”

A tall man, even taller than Noble, strode into the kitchen, immediately heading for the sideboard without another word. He lifted a bowl and the ladle.

Noble didn’t look up, though she had seen him tense right before the door opened. Now he just shook his head, his grip relaxing around the pen.

“Jeremy, what are you doing here?” His voice was exasperated and…fond?

Jeremy walked to the table. He couldn’t be much older than she—might in fact be younger, it was hard to say. But it was immediately apparent who he was. He had the same cheekbones as her host, though his features were somewhat rounder and more open. Devastatingly attractive as well, but Jeremy was more of a charming, boyish scoundrel, whereas Noble immortalized a dark sexual demon.

Jeremy plunked down so that they formed an off-center triangle and smiled at her—the smile was a little crooked, but all the more charming for it. “Good afternoon. Name’s Jeremy Noble.”

She smiled back. It would be easy to be captivated by such a man. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Jeremy Noble. I’m Marietta Winters.”

“The Middlesex murderer Winters?”

Her smile tightened. “One and the same.”

Jeremy let out a low whistle and turned to his brother. “Thought you could keep me ignorant of this one, I see.”

“No.” Noble did not look up. “I thought you should finish Cambridge. Why are you here, Jeremy?”

“Charlie told me you were here working on a new case. Thought I would drop by and see if you needed help.”

Noble finally looked up, the same exasperation and fondness in his voice present on his face. He looked…transformed. Like a human instead of something otherworldly and untouchable.

“No. Now go back to school.”

“We’re on break, remember?” He happily cut a piece of bread, his smile never dimming.

“So go bother your friends and get in trouble in Mayfair.”

“Done that plenty. I’m here to help you now.”

“I don’t need your help.” His eyes narrowed and he looked more like the Noble she knew. “Go home for break.”

Marietta shivered at his frosty tone, but Jeremy just looked amused. He glanced at Marietta. “Do you fall for that? All bark.”

He swiped a piece of bread into his soup bowl. “Why would I go home? Much better food here.”

“Can’t you get Mrs. Rosaire to cook for you there?” she asked, interrupting their banter.

Jeremy blinked at her for a second, then a slow smile crossed his face. It was just like his brother’s, but
where Noble’s devastated her, Jeremy’s just made her feel like a co-conspirator. “Is that what—”

Noble made a sharp motion with his free hand and continued writing. Jeremy just looked amused.

“Is that what?” she asked.

Jeremy shook his head. “So, Miss Winters, may I call you Marietta?”

She could feel her eyebrows shoot straight up. But he was so earnest looking and compelling. Yes, these two were both trouble. She shuddered to imagine them together against an opponent. “Yes.”

“Excellent. Please call me Jeremy.”

“Now that introductions are out of the way, be on yours, Jeremy,” Noble said. She wondered what he was writing.

“Oh, no, no. This looks like much too much fun.”

Noble gripped his pen a fraction tighter. “We are going to Alcroft’s tonight. Another masquerade. You have an invitation. After that I expect only to see you at home.”

“I got straight marks this term.”

She could see a smile tugging at Noble’s mouth, but when he looked up he was impassive. “I expected no less, now be off.”

Jeremy smiled and gave her a wave. “I’ll see you both tonight.”

She waited until Jeremy’s footsteps receded. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

“Now you do.” He continued writing.

“Do you have any other siblings?”

“No.”

“Parents?”

“I didn’t crawl out of Hell, if that is what you are asking.”

“Are they alive?”

He hesitated a moment, the pen scratching to a halt. “Go see if you need anything else for tonight. I’ll contact Clarisse, if so.”

“Do you ever get tired of ordering everyone around?”

“No.”

She sighed and trooped upstairs.

She fit the last feather in place on her mask and slipped it on. Then pivoting slowly in front of the mirror, she analyzed her appearance from all angles. She didn’t look like herself. She had transformed into some exotic flower or bird from the head up and a loose woman from the neck down. She wasn’t sure both styles went together, but it was the best she could do. And the effect was quite interesting all the same. It would allow her to be two different women if she so desired.

She walked to the kitchen. She found it amusing that Noble chose to work here instead of in the study off the drawing room, spare though it was—just like everything else in the house. The kitchen table was large though and he liked to spread things in every direction.

He looked up at her entrance and his eyes ran down her figure. “Adequate. Are you ready to leave?”

She tapped her hand irritably against her leg. “Yes. Thank you for the brilliant compliment.”

His eyes met hers and his mouth opened, then
closed, a peculiar look in his eyes. He pulled himself out of the chair and walked over to her. “Something’s missing.”

Her hands found their way to her hips. “And what is that?”

“A knowledge in your eyes.” His were narrow as they searched hers. “You can wear the clothes, but you have no idea how to carry off the effect.”

She tried to keep her anger tapped. “I see.”

“Have you ever been kissed, Marietta?”

The anger fled, replaced with confusion and nervousness. “I don’t see how that is any of your concern.”

“You do realize that we will be carrying off a role in the taverns especially.”

“No.” She wet her lips, anxiety pulsing through her.

He raised a brow. “I suppose I shouldn’t expect you to know what taverns are like, but you will after tonight.”

She couldn’t bring herself to ask what he meant. He didn’t seem to need the cue.

He leaned down. “Have you ever seen two people kiss, Marietta?”

“Yes.”

“What did you think?”

His eyes were a darker green, warmer than usual, not with a warmth spawned from fondness, but from the excited heat of a predator.

“It looked…perfunctory.”

“Ah. No, I meant have you ever seen two people
really
kiss?”

She had seen a maid and footman kiss at a house
party once, when they thought no one else around. The maid had been wrapped around the footman, and he had pressed her against the wall. She thought that was most likely what Noble meant by
real
kissing. It had looked rather real.

“Yes.”

He slowly smiled. “Good. We’ll start with the basics.”

Her mind went blank. “Basics?”

“Of kissing. Most people aren’t good at kissing right from the start.” He looked her over. “Unless you are a natural.”

She blinked stupidly.

His hand reached up and touched her cheek, gently tilting her head. “It’s like connecting puzzle pieces when you kiss. Or when you do anything else of a sexual nature.” The parts of her brain not already blank blessedly went dark. “You don’t want to purse your lips or keep them too slack.”

He lifted her wrist and turned it underside up so it hung just below his lips.

“A firm gentle pressure…” His lips touched her wrist, the pulse point beating wildly beneath. Her breath caught in her throat. His eyes kept a steady hold on hers, watching. “A light teasing…”

Was that a
tongue
that just swiped a swath across her skin? Heat followed the path and bounced in all directions.

“An all-encompassing domination.” His warm breath tickled her skin every time he spoke, and then he encased the fire with his mouth. Her head tilted back as he drew her closer and she fell under his will.
“A sweet submission.” His lips sucked gently and then released her wrist. “Those all work well depending on the mood and heat.”

The kitchen was rather warm.

“Open your lips, Marietta.”

Her mouth parted without her express permission.

“I don’t think we need to explore the perfunctory types of kisses first, do we?”

“N-No.”

He shook his head slowly, agreeing, and she followed the movement with her eyes. She felt as if he had cast a spell over her once again, just as he had in the street on the way to the barrister’s office.

His head lowered, his eyes remained fixed on hers. She didn’t know what to do, so she stood motionless. His lips brushed hers and the tingling sensation traversed her spine. Her first kiss felt rather nice. He repeated the motion, and she tentatively brushed her lips across his, but instead of continuing the feathery caresses, his mouth closed over hers. An entirely different kind of sensation followed. He had said not to stay still or limp, but not to exert too much pressure either, and she had zero idea what to do. Standing there felt odd, though, as if something was missing. His hand curled around the back of her neck and she was urged closer, his lips opening hers. She started to feel the rhythm, the motion.

She tried opening and closing her lips around his, and it was awkward. Embarrassment ran through her. She started to feel light-headed.

He pulled back and she saw the amusement in his eyes. “Remember to breathe, Marietta.”

“How can I breathe when your lips are covering mine?”

He tapped her nose, an entirely inappropriate gesture, as was all of this. “Through your nose. Or take in a little air with your mouth when we separate.”

Separate? They had been joined at the lip.

“Let’s try it again.”

“I dislike you.”

“I know.” His eyes said he didn’t believe her one bit. “Put that to use in kissing me. Try to get your revenge.”

His eyes twinkled in challenge, the darkness lurking just behind. He lowered his head again and when his lips met hers she wasn’t shocked this time and it felt even better. More natural. She tested breathing through her nose and wanted to kick him in the shin when she felt his laughter against her mouth.