Wait Until Midnight (29 page)

Adam swallowed more brandy, looking pensive. "Thank you. The subject of his connection to that establishment was rather effective, wasn't it?"

"It was a very clever piece of strategy." She stopped at the far end of the room and gestured wildly with her folded fan. "But then everything you do is generally clever and well-planned. So why on earth did you feel compelled to say that you intended to ask me to marry you?"

He angled himself onto the corner of the desk and drank some more brandy while he considered the question.

"Probably because that is precisely what I intend to do," he said.

She felt as though she had been glued to the floor. She could not have moved if someone had yelled "Fire."

"I don't understand," she said, suddenly light-headed. "I thought our affair was going rather well."

`A matter of opinion, I'm afraid."

Her spirits plummeted. "Oh. I see. I didn't realize that you were not . . . That is to say, I . . . Well, I suppose my lack of prior experience has turned out to be something of a disappointment to you. But I assure you, I am a fast learner."

He gave her his most enigmatic look. "Tell me the truth, Caroline. Are you merely using me as your writer's muse?"

She was horrified. "No, no, of course not."

"You're certain?"

"Absolutely."

"I am not just a plaything for you, then?"

She felt herself turn very hot. Her face was probably as red as her gown. "How can you even suggest such a thing?"

"If I am more to you than just a toy or a useful muse, why are you so reluctant to speak of marriage?"

Because you do not seem to be able to tell me that you are madly, wildly, passionately in love with me,
she thought. But she could hardly say that out loud.

"Well
^—
" She broke off, trying to come up with a reason that would appeal to the logical side of his nature. "Time is a factor, sir. I'm sure you will agree that it is much too soon to discuss the subject. After all, we have been acquainted for only a matter of a few days."

"But we do appear to be well suited. Everyone else certainly seems to believe that to be the case."

Well suited. Hardly a declaration of undying love.

She cleared her throat, steadying her nerves. "Exactly how are we well suited?"

He gave her a slow, sensual smile. "You know my secrets and I know yours."

That stopped her for a few heartbeats but she managed to cling to a few wispy tendrils of logic.

"Yes, well, that may be true," she allowed. "But do you think that constitutes sufficient grounds for marriage?"

"In this particular instance it does, at least as far as I am concerned" He put down the brandy glass and came up off the desk. "But rest assured there are other ways in which we are well suited."

Her brain went utterly blank. "Such as?"

He walked toward her, looking dangerous indeed, with his darkly bruised eye and grimly determined expression. "This way, for example," he whispered.

He put his powerful hands very gently around her bare throat and tilted her head slightly for his kiss.

A shiver of excitement coursed through her. This was no doubt the path to disaster, she reminded herself. If she wanted to retain any degree of common sense she would turn away from him right now, this very minute, before his mouth touched hers.

But she could not seem to get unstuck from the floor. And then it was much too late because he was kissing her in a slow, searing way that melted everything inside her and set fire to her blood.

She did not want to think about his businesslike suggestion of marriage. Instead, she wanted to concentrate on the way she felt when he took her in his arms.

His tongue slid along the edge of her mouth and ever so slightly between her lips. She leaned heavily against him, wrapping her arms around his neck. The thrilling heat and strength of his body enveloped her. .

He deepened the kiss, drawing it out until she was clinging to him.

The knowledge that he wanted her so intensely gave her courage and hope. She understood his wariness. He had taught himself to survive first on the streets and then in a glittering, superficial world where love was treated, at best, with amused disdain. He had learned his lessons well and established his own rules. It was only to be expected that he would be deeply cautious.

She was taking a risk, she thought. But Adam was worth it.

A discreet knock sounded on the door.

Adam raised his head, frowning slightly. "It must be Morton, and that means that it will be important. Excuse me, my dear."

He crossed to the door and opened it. Caroline saw the formidable butler in the corridor. Morton was very careful not to look at her. She heard him speak to Adam in low, serious-sounding tones. Adam gave some crisp directions in response.

When he turned back to her and closed the door, she knew at once that something had happened. All the sensual satisfaction had vanished from his expression. It had been replaced by the concentrated attention of the hunter.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Morton brought me a message from an old friend of mine named Florence Stotley. Thanks to her I now have an address for Irene Toller's missing assistant, Bess Whaley. I must leave at once."

"You are going to see Bess tonight?"

"Yes" He shrugged out of his jacket. "I do not want to take the risk of losing her again. Morton is bringing me an-other jacket and a pair of boots."

"I think I should go with you to speak with the assistant." "There is no need for that. The address I was given is not in the best part of town."

"Bess obviously fled for a reason. She will likely panic when she finds you at her door at this hour. Perhaps my presence will reassure her."

He hesitated and then nodded abruptly. "Very well. I will send for your wrap"

THIRTY-FIVE

The neighborhood where Bess Whaley had sought to hide was not in the stews, but neither was it a comfortable place at this hour of the night. Adam instructed Ned to halt the carriage in the street some distance from the address he sought. He did not want to risk waking Whaley prematurely with the rattle of wheels and hooves.

"You understand what I want you to do?" he said to Ned, assisting Caroline down from the carriage.

"Aye, sir."

Adam looked at Caroline. "Are you sure you want to come with me?"

"We have been through this often enough, Adam. I am coming with you" She bent down to make certain the long skirts of her gown were hooked up and securely fastened.

He smiled slightly, admiration welling up inside him. Caroline's spirit drew him the way expensive perfume might draw another man. Which was not to say that she did not also possess a most unique and delightful fragrance, he thought, amused by his own bemusement.

Following the plan that he had hurriedly concocted en route to Bess Whaley's lodgings, he guided Caroline down a narrow walk into the alley that ran behind the building. He counted off the small gardens until they came to the one that guarded the rear door of Whaley's new address.

It was no trick at all to get inside the gate. He and Caroline went to stand in the deep shadows near the back door and waited.

A short time later the carriage clattered loudly in the street in front of the address. Ned had followed orders to the letter. A moment later Adam heard the distant thud that meant that Ned had knocked on the front door.

There was a long pause. Adam wondered if he had miscalculated.

Hurried footsteps sounded in the back hall. The kitchen door opened abruptly. There was enough moonlight to make out the figure of a woman garbed in a robe and slippers rushing out of the house into the garden.

"Bess Whaley, I presume?" Adam said, moving into her path.

Bess stifled a small screech and floundered to a halt. "Get away from me" Raw fear laced her words. "Get away, I say. Please don't hurt me. I'll never say a word"

"Calm yourself, Bess," Caroline said gently. "I am Mrs. Fordyce. You remember me, don't you?"

Bess swung -around. "Mrs. Fordyce? Is it really you, ma'am?"

"Yes. And this is my assistant, Mr. Grove. You remember him from the séance, don't you?"

"What are you two doing here?"

"We want to help you," Caroline said soothingly.

"I don't understand" Bess peered more closely at Adam. "When I heard the carriage in the street, I was sure it was either him or the police, and I didn't know which was worse, to tell you the truth. I've been so afraid that one or the other would find me"

Caroline took her hand and led her back toward the door. "We must talk. Let us go inside out of the cold."

Adam sat at the small, scarred kitchen table with a shaken Bess Whaley. Caroline had lit a lamp and immediately be-come very busy with the kettle and some mugs. He wondered if she realized what a rare sight she made, bustling around these humble surroundings in her elegant ball gown and dainty shoes. If so, she gave no sign. Rather, she seemed to have made herself right at home, as though offering a comforting cup of tea to the former housekeeper and assistant of a fraudulent medium was not the least out of the ordinary.

"You say you're trying to find the person who killed Mrs. Delmont and Mrs. Toller?" Bess's heavy features skewed into an expression of uneasy confusion.

"He is a very dangerous person, Bess," Adam said. "It will be better for everyone involved if he is found as soon as possible."

"But you don't understand," Bess said again for what must have been the fifth or sixth time. The words were fast becoming a litany.

"Then you must explain everything to us, Bess." Caroline put tea leaves into the pot. "It is important that you tell 1 us what you know of this matter."

"You can start by telling us why you ran away after Mrs. Toller was murdered," Adam said. "Did you see the killer? Are you afraid that he saw you?"

"No" Bess hesitated. "I didn't see him. Not exactly. I found Mrs. Toller's body very early the next morning when I arrived to start my chores. The séance room was in a shambles, but I knew straight off it was no housebreaker or thief who had killed her, because none of the valuables had gone missing."

"A very clever observation," Adam said.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Bess clutched the lapels of her wrapper. "When I found her, Mrs. Toller was still wearing the gown she'd worn to conduct the séance. The front door was unlocked"

"Was it, indeed?" Adam asked softly.

Bess looked at him with anguished eyes. "She'd been expecting him, you see."

At the stove, Caroline went very still. "Who was she expecting, Bess?"

"Her lover, of course" Bess shrugged. "She always sent me away on the nights when he was to come to her. He hadn't been around much in the past few weeks but she was expecting him that night, I'm sure of it."

"Who is he, Bess?" Adam asked. The warning look he got from Caroline told him that he had spoken too roughly.

Bess's eyes widened in renewed alarm. "I told you, I don't know, sir. I swear I don't. I never saw him. Not once. They were very secretive. She said he insisted on it."

"Here's your tea, Bess" Caroline glided over to the table, silk skirts swaying gently, and set the full mug in front of Bess. "I put some sugar and milk in it for you."

Distracted, Bess stopped clutching her wrapper and gripped the mug in both hands instead. She stared at the tea

as though she had never seen anything like it before in her life.

"Thank you, ma'am," Bess whispered.

Caroline put a mug in front of Adam and then sat down across from Bess. "Take your time, Bess. There is no need to rush. You say you don't know the identity of Mrs. Toller's lover?"

"No, ma'am." Bess took a tentative sip of tea. It seemed to steady her. "He insisted that she be alone when he came to call. He was very strict about it."

"How did Mrs. Toller know what nights he would call on her?" he asked Bess.

Bess appeared baffled. "I don't know, sir. She just knew." "He didn't send a message to the house alerting her?" Caroline asked.

Bess pressed her lips together very tightly and shook her head. "None that I ever saw."

"But you believe that he was there the night she died and that he was the one who murdered her?" Adam asked.

"All I know for certain is that he was supposed to visit that evening." Bess swallowed more tea. "She was angry with him. I expect they quarreled and he killed her."

Adam leaned forward slightly, watching Bess's face in the flaring lamplight. "How do you know that Mrs. Toller was angry with him?"

"I've worked for her for years. I got to know her ways quite well. Started out as her housekeeper and eventually took on the duties of her assistant. She felt she could trust me, you see."

"You helped her stage the tricks that made her séances look real," Adam stated.

Bess heaved a sigh. "It was a good position. I'm going to miss it. Not likely I'll find another that pays as well, and that's a fact"

Caroline eased her mug aside. "Do you know why Mrs. Toller was angry with her lover?"

Bess snorted. "For the oldest reason in the world." Caroline's brows rose. "She discovered that he was cheating on her?"

"Yes, ma'am." Bess drank more tea. "And with her competition, at that."

Adam set his mug down hard. "Elizabeth Delmont."

"Yes, sir." Bess shook her head sadly. "Made Mrs. Toller cry for days, it did. Then she went all cold and fiercelike. I knew she was planning something, but I reckoned she in-tended to confront her lover and tell him she wouldn't put up with his cheating. I swear it never occurred to me that she meant to do what she did."

Another link in the chain snapped into place. Adam watched Bess's face closely.

"Irene Toller murdered Elizabeth Delmont, didn't she?" he said.

"Yes, sir," Bess said. Her voice was barely above a whisper. She contemplated her unfinished tea. "I never let on that I knew. I didn't dare. I kept my mouth shut and did my work like nothing had ever happened."

"How did you reason it out?" Caroline asked.

"Mrs. Toller sent me away that night, too. At first I assumed that her lover would be paying her a visit. But when I arrived at the house the next morning, I realized that he hadn't been there."