Betrayal (18 page)

Once he’d woken a footman to deliver the message, he went to spend a few moments cuddling on the couch with the woman he would marry. Perhaps even take the opportunity to convince her to accept his proposal.

Her chestnut hair still stuck out in the distressed state caused by their earlier activity. She watched him cross the room. Those dark eyes smoldered, and the idea of talking suddenly seemed foolish.

“Help!” The cry came from the back of the house.

Reece ran for the study door.

“Help me, someone. She’s been killed.”

The last word ripped his soul as he ran down the hall and found Holmes, the gardener, holding his knees and gasping for breath in the open door. “What’s happened?”

“The lady, I saw her take to the path. I thought it was late for a walk in the garden, but it weren’t the first person to need some night air.”

“Show me.”

Elizabeth ran to his side, and Garvey appeared, pulling on his coat. They dashed through the garden, down the path, and to the spot where they had removed the cursed stone when he’d first arrived in London. Crumpled on the path lay Connie, her skin whiter than the full moon illuminating the night. She wore her nightdress with no robe. Her graying hair spread out around her. A single strip of red marred her throat from one ear to the other.

“Why was she out here?” Elizabeth cried and held the body.

A few of the servants, roused by the excitement, had crowded the path.

“Did anyone besides Mr. Holmes see Miss Mewborn come to the garden?”

They all shook their heads, staring with terrified eyes.

Garvey said, “Well then, let’s all go inside and start our day. There is nothing more to be done here.”

When they’d all returned to the house, Reece turned to the gardener. “What did you see?”

“I heard a noise and came out to check.”

“When was that?”

“An hour ago. Maybe a bit more.”

That would have been before they had heard the master’s voice. “Where were you?”

“Not far from my garden house. I saw the lady walking the path. I called out, but she ignored me and just kept walking deeper in the garden. Most folks ignore me, so I didn’t think nothing of it.”

“But you did not go back to bed.”

“No, sir. Not with someone wandering the garden. I waited to see her back to the house. It seemed like a long walk for the hour, so I went lookin’ for her in case she needed help finding her way back.”

“Did you hear anything else, see anyone else?”

“I heard a strange popping and a rogue wind blew through. When I got here, I found her just as she is.”

“All right, Mr. Holmes. You should go about your business. We will see to Miss Mewborn.” Reece knelt beside Elizabeth.

“She trusted us to care for her.” Tears streamed down her face.

Reece’s heart pounded, and in spite of the cool morning, his skin prickled with sweat. “I know. We failed her.”

Getting up, he scanned the ground but found no prints. Leaves that should have remained on the shrubbery during the warmer months were strewn along the grass and path. Rose petals littered the ground as well. “They must have entered via a vortex. I see no signs that demons trod the path. The only thing amiss is poor Connie.”

“It’s a message, Reece. We took Tally and now he has taken someone we care about.”

“I do not think this is entirely about Tally.”

Elizabeth stood and clutched his arm. “What do you mean?”

“The master was speaking to me. I took you, and he wants me to know he can take you back whenever he wants. Maybe that is why you were drawn to him at the church.”

She opened her mouth, but he pushed forward with his thoughts. “It could be that whatever was done to you and the others last year has left a connection. It could be the reason for your headaches whenever the master is close.”

Her brows narrowed. “But I had no headache or nausea in the bedroom. I did not know the master was near until the wind blew you from the window.”

“Perhaps our union has somehow broken the bond.”

“But it is not possible. Connie was without…um…company from time to time. If your theory is correct, should not any sexual congress have broken the spell. If that were the case, would she have been enticed to leave her bed tonight and seek him out?”

“Connie’s profession is not the same as what we have shared. Tonight I made you mine, my love. Connie never belonged to another.”

She pulled her shoulders back, and her hand went to the hilt of the sword strapped at her hip. “I do not belong to anyone.”

God how he loved her. “No. You are your own. There is no doubt of that. But perhaps it is better for the master to see you as my possession than his own.”

“What we did tonight changes nothing.”

“I think it changes a great many things, though not my feelings for you nor my desire to make you my wife.”

“Why is it not a desire to become my husband?”

“You are incredible. Becoming your husband would be the greatest joy in my life, Lizzy. I would give anything to have that honor.”

She looked back down at Connie’s body. “What will happen to her?”

“We will see she has a proper burial. I’m sure Graves has already called for a cart.”

Elizabeth didn’t dislike Lillian. She actually respected her quite a lot, but something about how she stormed into the garden set her teeth grinding.

“What is going on here, Reece? We arrived and the staff is in a tizzy about someone’s throat being cut.” Lillian’s voice reached them before she rounded the corner and her questions were answered.

Elizabeth took a step forward, putting herself between Connie and the storm that was Lillian Lambert.

Reece stepped beside her and took her hand. “We have had another incident, Lilly.”

Lillian’s eyes widened and she crossed her arms over her chest. “This is one of the women we rescued with Elizabeth. How on earth did she get into your garden, and who slit her throat?”

Dorian knelt next to the body. “Look here, her palm is burned black.”

“What?” She’d been so focused on the wound that killed Connie, she hadn’t noticed her palm having been scorched. She rubbed the small scar in the center of her own palm.

Garvey and two men arrived on the path. “Sir, these men will take care of Miss Connie until arrangements can be made for her final resting place.”

“Thank you, Garvey.”

They left the men to carry Connie away. Elizabeth’s stomach knotted. She’d clenched her fists so tightly small moon shaped cuts marred her flesh, but she needed the pain. At least it kept her from saying or doing anything she’d regret.

The way Lillian had burst in with accusations and ferocity had no effect on Reece. He kissed her cheek as old friends might do and shook her husband’s hand. “We have learned a great deal in the past days.”

Once in the study, they told the other couple everything they had seen and done with relation to the master. Reece described the battle at Richmond, the master’s voice in the bedroom, and the events following. He didn’t mention their lovemaking nor that her connection to the master seemed to have been severed. She would have preferred he kept all the information private until they knew what it all meant, but at least he’d protected her from embarrassment.

Lillian and Dorian peppered them with questions, all of which they answered, but she gave little detail and ignored Reece’s glances.

Within the hour, Garvey entered to tell them that Mrs. Abigail Higginbotham had arrived and flitted around the property with her incantations.

Elizabeth used the witch’s presence as a reason to excuse herself from Lillian’s critical gaze.

She found Mrs. Higginbotham at Connie’s murder sight.

“I do not mean to interrupt your work, madam. I am Elizabeth Smyth.” She held out her hand.

The witch gave her a long look before taking her hand. “Abigail Higginbotham, it is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Smyth.”

“Please, call me Elizabeth or Lizzy.”

“Can you tell me what happened here?”

“Our house guest was murdered.”

“Our? Are you a resident of Mr. Foxjohn’s house?”

Her stomach twisted. Why had she said that? “I hardly know the answer myself.”

Abigail shrugged. “It does not signify. Perhaps you can tell me what happened this morning and the rest will fall into place. Such things usually do.”

“Do they?’

She nodded and gave her a reassuring smile. “In my experience.”

Having doubt was familiar, and stuffing those doubts down to a manageable place a normal practice for Elizabeth. She told the witch everything that happened from the time the wind blew through her bedroom window.

If anything shocked her companion, she showed no sign. She listened patiently and studied the grounds. She drew some symbols in the dirt. “You say you did not experience the discomfort you had on previous meetings with the demon master?”

“No. I had no foreknowledge the master was on the grounds. Do you think it means any connection has been severed?”

“I cannot say. It means you are not the same woman who the demons captured for their sacrifice. What constitutes a change, I do not know.”

“Could it be that I am no longer pure?”

Abigail cocked her head and raised her eyebrows. “I doubt such a thing would make a difference to the demons. You have to admit you have changed a great deal more than that. You’ve gone from a scullery maid to a demon hunter.”

“Yes, but I was a hunter when the first headache hit.”

“It could be the culmination of all the changes. We do not alter overnight. We do it by bits and pieces.”

“I suppose that is true.”

“I’m going to get started with my protection spells.”

“Very nice to meet you, Abigail.”

“Be careful, Lizzy. The danger has not passed for you. This demon master does not like losing.” She turned and muttered words in a language Elizabeth had never heard before. From her pouch, she poured some white grains along the path.

Abigail walked out of sight, still muttering her charms.

Elizabeth calmed her breathing before she walked back inside the house.

* * * *

“Tell me why you dislike Lilly so much.” His question came just as she dozed in his arms.

An afternoon nap is what she needed, not more questions. “I do not dislike her.”

“Please do not lie to me.” He whispered behind her ear, and his breath sent chills through her. If she turned around and seduced him, he might forget his question.

She hadn’t lied, but admittedly, it leaned toward a cowardly response. She sighed and snuggled back against him. The sun warmed her face through the open window, and she closed her eyes, too tired for conversation or anything more. “I suppose it is her way of judging everything as inferior that sets my teeth. I do not dislike her so much as I resent her assuming we do not know what we are doing.”

He kissed her shoulder. “It’s just her manner. She thinks very highly of you. If she did not, she would pay you no mind. Her arguing and fussing means she cares.”

“I’m more accustomed to people being straight forward. I like to know what someone is thinking. When I do not care for a person, there is no question about it.”

“Do not judge her too harshly. She has been through a lot, and it has made her very mistrusting of people.”

His arms tightened, and she snuggled against his warm chest. “For your sake, I will try.”

“Thank you.”

Every inch of him distracted her from the rest she needed. “We would have slept better if you had gone to your own bed.”

“I never want to sleep without you as I cannot bear the thought you might be pulled away while I rest. It would be the end of us both. Besides, it’s only a nap. We have work to do today.”

One of those blasted vortexes might suck her away at any moment and no one would even know. A few months ago, no one would have even cared what happened to poor little Lizzy Smyth. At least now, one person did care. He cared enough that he refused to let her out of his sight. The security of his arms around her lulled her until sleep took her.

* * * *

They arrived at the last known address of Mr. Sweeney in a rather dodgy area. Elizabeth had grown up a few blocks from there. No amount of education had made her forget the filthy streets or run down houses. The people all looked tired and stared at the well-dressed couple with a wary eye. She stayed at the bottom of the steps, ready to grab her sword from under her skirts if needed.

Reece climbed the three steps and knocked on the bruised and battered door. His knock turned to pounding, but no one answered. He joined her and shrugged. “I suppose we’ve come to another impasse.”

“He left just after his woman killed herself.” A toothless man sat on the next stoop, wrapped in a blanket in spite of the warm day. His cheeks were sunken and his eyes bulged. He had three hairs on his pasty white head.

“Are you a friend of Mr. Sweeney’s, sir?” Reece spoke to him as he spoke to everyone. He treated everyone the same with no regard for their rank or income.

“I knew ’im. Went to live with his brother in the country, I ’eard.”

“When was that, if you don’t mind?”

He cocked his head and winced. His pale eyes narrowed. “Month or so ago. Just after they found the missus in the alley. Did ’erself in with a knife to the gut. Nasty business.”

“Indeed. Can you recall where Mr. Sweeney’s brother lived, my good man?”

“Only know ’e’s a farmer somewheres outside of London.”

Reece dug into his pocket and produced a coin, which he handed to the man. “It might be good to find something to eat, my friend. I would hate to see anything happen to you.”

He looked at the shiny coin in his palm. “I might just do that, gov. Too bad about Sweeney. Nice fella.”

Reece nodded and took Elizabeth’s elbow, leading her back to the carriage.

“Now what do we do? Mr. Sweeney’s brother could be anywhere. There are hundreds of small farms within a day’s ride of London.”

“Do not lose hope. I’ll send out some inquiries and hire a runner from Bow Street. We will find him.”

“A few weeks ago you didn’t even believe you could hunt again. When did you become such an optimist?” She slumped back into the carriage seat.