The Black Lotus (Night Flower) (19 page)

C
oll nodded and moved to the carriage door, as his hand closed on the handle, Justin’s fingers closed on his wrist.

“Remember Coll, pick those who have sinned.”

The coachman bobbed his head once more and clambered out of the carriage. Climbing back onto the box, he clicked at the horses and the carriage moved off down the street. In the back, jolted by the motion on the cobbles, Justin stared at the fabric interior and once again cursed his luck.

Chapter 20
:

It was late afternoon as Justin let himself through the door of his
London home. Having changed in the carriage, he was once again in his finery, but the black mood that had followed him from the slums still held a grip on his mind. Handing his hat and gloves to Hedge, he walked past the butler and stepped into the parlour. Sinking into a richly upholstered chair, he leant back and closed his eyes. It was always the same despite the justifications he made to himself. He could not control the visions that came to him, the images of all his victims. Despite their sins they did not deserve what he had done to them.

Lost in his thoughts, he almost didn’t hear the door to the parlour open. Without opening his eyes, he called out.

“I want to be alone.”

“Really?” He opened his eyes as Emily’s soft voice echoed through the room. Turning his head, he stared
at the blonde. Today she was dressed as a proper lady of the town in cream and blue and as desirable as always. With a flick of her wrist, she closed the parlour door and turned back to face him. “I can tell,” She removed the bonnet on her head and dropped it onto a small table by the door before walking toward him.

“
This isn’t a good time,” With a sigh, he pushed himself out of the chair and moved to the sideboard and a stiff glass of whisky. Taking the measure in one swallow, he returned to the chair and sank back into it. “You should leave,”

“It never is
a good time Justin,” Emily’s fingers fiddled distractedly with her bracelet, a slender delicate affair of gold and diamond. The bracelet he suspected was new; possibly a gift and that told him other things. It explained her agitation and her reason for being here. “And I don’t honestly care if you want to be alone, I know I don’t.” She stopped playing with the links of the bracelet and walked closer to him.

What do you wan
t Emily?”

“
What do you think I want?” She replied as she stopped just shy of him. He felt the fabric of her skirt brush against his shins and he looked into her face. Those blue eyes stared at him, the flirtatious sparkle gone from their depths, replaced with an intensity of emotion that he recognised all too well. “I want an end to it.”

“We all want that,” Justin replied, anger bubbling just below the surface. “It’s nothing new Emily and if you’re here to add more guilt to my plate, then please.” He stood and pointed at the door. ”Feel free to leave.”

“Do you think I’m here to blame you?”
Anger to match his own, rose in her voice and she faced him, her eyes meeting his, challenging him.  

“
Aren’t you?” He stepped forward, anger carrying him closer to her than he planned. Gooseflesh prickled along his skin, triggering old memories. “Then why are you here? Do you want sympathy or a shoulder to cry on?” He snorted derisively and moved to turn away. “I’m not in a sympathetic mood today so why don’t you find my brother or any of the others to weep to.”

“I don’t want your brother
and I don’t want your sympathy.” She snapped back, stepping closer to him as she spoke. As her body moved nearer, he could feel the tension between them increase. Emily was now staring directly into his eyes and he caught his breath at the emotion within them. Anger, desire, fear and want warred within those eyes and he knew why she had sought him out. His anger twisted and other emotions, more primal ones began to sing in his bones.

“Then what do you want?” The answer was clear, but he wanted to hear her speak the words. He needed her to say it and ask it of him, for if he were being truthful, he wanted, no needed, the release that passion would bring.

Something in her gaze broke and she reached for him, her arms wrapped about his neck and pulled him close.
The kiss that followed was brief, yet he could feel the passion trapped and caught behind it. She pulled away, almost daring him to push her free. Instead his hands wrapped about her waist and he pulled her in close.

“What do you want?” His voice was husky, he knew this dance and its conclusion, but it didn’t stop him from playing.
Feeling her breath ghost across his lips, he tried not to lean in. “I want you to say it Emily,” Her eyes widened and she almost smiled.

“You,” Her other hand caught the back of his head and secured itself in the dark strands of his hair. “Just now, that’s all I want.” She moved closer and he pulled back, escaping her lips.
“You,”

“
That’s all you had to say.” He replied, pushing aside the anger and sorrow of that morning as he pulled her into a rough embrace. It wasn’t love that drew them or even passion; it was something more powerful and intense than that. A desire to forget and push aside dark thoughts and memories drove the need that enveloped them. Justin pushed her against the wall as her arms wrapped about his back. His lips explored hers, passionate and bruising. Her fingers caught the lapels of his jacket and began to tug it free from his shoulders. Shifting slightly, he let the jacket fall as he continued the kiss, his own hands moving to the fastenings on her dress. He tugged on the lacing at the bodice as he felt her hands on his shirt. As their clothing fell to the floor their need overrode everything, the pain, memories, anger. All that drove them fled against the onslaught of passion.

Later, when the heat had fled and passion was spent, they lay together on the rug before the fire. He glanced down at Emily’s blonde curls as she slept and gave a wry smile. It had not been love, just desire and distraction. Still it was preferable to hate.

“Em,” He whispered softly, stroking her blonde curls. “Wake up.” She moaned and sat up, looking at his bare chest with a small smile.

“We always do this,” She murmured as she pulled back and began to dress. “I don’t even care for you,”

“I know,” He stood and began to drag on his clothes. “
Does it matter?” He watched her try to fix her stays and walked forward. “Here let me,” He pulled on the laces and drew the stays closed.

“Did you rip anything this time?” She asked mildly as he picked up her dress and drew it upward.

“No, not this time,” He retorted, watching as her fingers closed the fastenings of her gown. “You look slightly mussed, but nothing else is out of place.”

“Makes a change.” She found the mirror and began to place her hair into some sort of order. They lapsed into silence as they finished dressing, both lost in thought.

“Justin?” He turned as she
spoke, “I think you should pursue Melissa De Vire.”

He dropped what he had been holding and walked towards her.

“What?” Utter shock permeated his tones and he stared down at her as though he could not believe what he had just heard. “You must be mad.”

“No, just practical.” Unconcerned by the anger on his face,
Emily reached down and pulled the gold bracelet back onto her wrist. “You like her, that much is obvious and she seems to have some interest in you, despite her transparent denials.”

For a long moment, Justin said nothing, stunned by the words that were coming out of Emily’s mouth. “Haven’t you just convinced me that this existence is so much hell, that you would lie with someone you don’t care for just to rid yourself of it? Why would you ask me to pursue someone I couldn’t be with? Do you hate me that much?”

Emily turned away and sat down in one of the chairs. “I don’t hate you Justin, but if you don’t
take her and make her yours you will regret it.” She picked up her bonnet and began pulling at the flowers set into it. “Alistair already knows about her, give it a little time and she will be linked with us. I’d much rather you drag her along rather than leave her to be fodder for John.”

“So how does my brother know about Melissa?” Justin’s voice was dangerously quiet as he stood opposite her. “Have you stirred the pot again?” He turned and slammed his fist into the wall. “I thought you were past these petty games. Real people are at stake.”

“Yes.” She stood and faced him. “Real people are at stake and if you do not act this time, John will merely take her from you in the same way he took Anna.” She grabbed his fist and brushed the drops of blood from the knuckles. “Do you not realise yet that there is nothing that you can do to hide her from him.”

“I’ve spoken to her once
.” He hoped that she did not see through the lie, “And that has been all. God curse it Emily, she may only be intrigued, do not turn this into a grand love affair on the basis of one conversation.” He pulled his hand free and seized the back of her neck. “If you start this, you’d better be prepared to face the consequences.”

Emily laughed in his face
. “Don’t threaten me darling, I won’t take it.” Her hand snaked around his wrist and she pressed hard on the joints, causing him to gasp in pain. “I will not spend the next few decades suffering from your ill temper. Don’t forget love, that I know you almost as well as you know yourself.”

Justin allowed his hand to drop from her skin and whispered. “Then why would push this? I am interested yes, but I know that I can’t have her. John need only know that I flirted with her, as I do with many women.”

“I push because
John will know regardless. He has his spies and he will find out.”

“There’s no guarantee that he’s here.”

“Maybe not, but what if Katherine is? She reports to him and Alistair.” She pulled on her stocking and secured it with a garter. “He won’t clam up, if he has any suspicions he will voice them. Remember Alistair hates you, he may not go as far as murder but it doesn’t mean he won’t make it easy for you.”

Chapter 21:

The rattling of the chambermaid stoking up the fire woke her from the depths of dreamless sleep. A pale golden light permeated the room, its softness rousing her steadily. Comfortable and warm as she drifted into consciousness, Melissa snuggled further within the depths of the bed only to be woken by a sharp pinch to her side. Unpleasantly reminded her of her recent injuries, she shifted position and buried herself again, drifting back into the pleasant oblivion of sleep. The coal scuttle rattled loudly and her eyes snapped open with annoyance. Grunting lightly with effort, she dug herself from the blankets and sat upright. Pushing her hair back from her face, she scowled lightly before throwing a glance towards the source of the noise. Kneeling before the large fire was a young woman, brush and dustpan in hand. Dressed in the simple yet hardy garb of the upper housemaid, the girl was industriously sweeping ash from the depths of the fireplace. It was this activity that had rousted Melissa so thoroughly from the bliss of sleep. Suppressing a hiss of pain as she shifted position, Melissa studied the maid carefully. Beneath the simple cap wisps of chestnut hair escaped and brushed against a slim neck. About to chastise the maid for waking her, Melissa stopped and looked again, her sleep fogged brain finally making connections. The hair that whisked through the air before the fire was a rich brown and not the colour of mud.

“Where’s Martha?” Melissa called out finally, her voice husky with sleep and curiosity.

“Martha’s had permission to visit her mother
Miss.” The maid answered as she leant back from the fire and picked up the scuttle with soot covered hands. “I’m looking after the upstairs today.” The girl bobbed hurriedly and continued. “Miss.”

“Hmm.” Feeling more alert, Melissa sat up further and glanced into the room. The shutters were pulled open and the long curtains tied back, revealing the green lawns beyond her window. Sunlight danced through the window and glittered on something in the corner of her eye. Looking about the room revealed a covered tray sat on a small table near one of the windows. Near the grate, the maid w
as now placing a fresh stack of kindling in the heart of the fireplace.

“So it’s breakfast in bed this morning?” Her voice called out softly as the young woman pulled away from her work and sat back on her heels.

“Doctor’s orders Miss.” The girl turned to face her, revealing clear hazel eyes within a sweet heart shaped face. “He left orders that you rest up today.” Standing up from the fire, the girl picked up the coal scuttle and rested it carefully on her hip.

“Would you like me to contact your nurse?”

“Not at the moment.” Melissa stared at the covered dish, pangs of hunger tugged at her.
She moved to stand and a wave of dizziness, after effects of the liberal doze of laudanum she had received, swept over her.

“Are you alright
Miss?” The maid was at her side in an instant, concern washing from her in waves. “Shall I fetch…”

“No I’m fine.” Melissa held up a hand to forestall the girl and waved a hand at the table. “Can you bring my breakfast to me?”
Carefully the maid placed the scuttle onto the floor before picking up the tray and crossing the room. Setting it across Melissa’s legs, the maid removed the cover before heading back towards the door.

“Thank you.” Melissa looked down at the loaded tray, her stomach growling in anticipation. “What’s your name?” It was a casual question, asked as she looped the napkin over her bodice.

“Rachel.” The girl looked mildly confused; she had not been expecting to talk with the young mistress that morning.

“Well Rachel, can you please be a little quieter in the future in the mornings?”

“
Yes Miss.” The girl bowed her head and waited, fidgeting only slightly as she waited for her mistress to dismiss her. Picking up the knife and fork, Melissa finally indicated the door and with a bob, Rachel turned to go.

“Oh
Miss,” Halfway to the door, Rachel stopped and turned around to face her mistress. “I hope you don’t mind but I moved your letter.”

“My letter?”

“It were on your pillow Miss.” Unheeding of the bafflement in her mistresses voice, the maid continued. “I didn’t want to see it crumpled, so I placed it on your tray.” An unsure look crossed over the maid’s features. “Did I do right Miss?”

Melissa hadn’t the faintest idea of what the girl was talking
about but looking back down at the tray confirmed the existence of a long creamy white envelope, an envelope that she certainly didn’t remember having in her room the night before. The maid was waiting by the door, her hazel eyes staring at her mistress with mild unease.

“Oh yes that was fine.” Melissa finally spoke, waving the young girl from her room with a flick of her fingers. Truthfully she would have questioned the girl further about the envelope but she didn’t want to become the subject of servants’ gossip. Relieved at her dismissal, the maid left the room, leaving Melissa to stare at the envelope. The envelope was plain without any name inked onto its virgin surface. Its creamy parchment piqued her curiosity despite the growling calls from her stomach. Sighing in frustration, she returned her cutlery to the tray and reached for the letter, tearing it open in one angry motion. A single parchment slid out to land on the eiderdown and Melissa picked it up, flicking it open with one hand.

WHORE

STAY AWAY FROM JUSTIN

The words screamed a
t her from the parchment, a warning striking into her brain like the sound of a fuller’s hammer. Melissa dropped the parchment; it fluttered to the bed like the broken wing of a dove. For a long moment all she could hear was the frantic drumming of her heart as she stared at the note.

It were on your pillow
Miss

The maid’s words echoed through her mind as she read the words again. She knew she had not seen this the night before, which meant that either the maid had placed the letter or that someone in the night had slid it into her chambers. Either way, the implications were troubling. If the maid had been asked to deliver it, she would not have lied and said it were on her pillow. Unless. A chill ran down Melissa’s spine, unless this new girl had been planted to send her this? She shook her head in disbelief at the thought. It was troubling enough that someone was threatening her without adding further complications. Pushing aside the tray, she clambered out of bed and checked about the room. At the window, she spotted the small scuff marks where her visitor had entered and she sank onto the window seat sudden fear coursing through her body. What if her visitor hadn’t wanted to place a letter? What if? She remembered the tale of Honesty Malison, killed on her front porch and she lifted her hand to her mouth stifling a cry of horror. Her visitor the night before could have been the killer. Deep in thought, she gnawed on her knuckles as scenarios played endlessly through her mind. When had he entered? She felt slightly ill at the thought of him being so close to her as she slept.

He had to have watched the house. She recalled the night before, the movement she had seen on the lawn before she went to bed. Had he been watching her then? Had he waited until she had left her window before making his move? Her eyes shifted over towards the bed, towards the parchment that lay in plain sight. She should tell her parents. They would be horrified at the thought of someone breaking into her room and they would certainly take steps to protect her. She pulled her hand away from her mouth and stared out of the window. Yes they would protect her but their protection would almost certainly involve total exile from society. Granted she could deal with a few weeks in the country, but that wasn’t all. The letter had warned her from Justin and her family would take that
threat seriously. At the very least they would ban her from seeing Justin just on the threat from the letter. And though she could understand the reasoning, it didn’t seem right to her. She was still convinced that he was innocent. The very fact that Justin had been so close to all those murder victims felt set up to her. If Justin were a murderer, it made little sense that he would be so obvious about it. There was also the note she had received, Justin would not have sent such a threat. If someone were trying to frame Justin, they were doing a bang up job yet she didn’t think someone genuinely involved in murder would be so careless.

No she couldn’t involve her family, they would help but they would also jump to the wrong conclusions and she wanted to make her own decisions about Lestrade.  Removing her hand from her mouth, she leant back against the recess and stared at the edge of the shutter. Justin was not the only Lestrade she had to worry about. Was it a coincidence that on the very night Alistair had warned her about Justin she had received a threatening letter?
Granted such an action seemed almost clumsy, threatening her twice in the same evening. She nibbled her nails thoughtfully, slipping into an old childish habit as she ran over the events at Lady Shearingham’s ball. Alistair hadn’t been the only one to warn her about Justin. Mary had practically struck her over him. Though she couldn’t imagine Mary having the gumption to leave her father’s house, cross several miles of country and climb to her window. Of course there was Montjoy. The nail on her index finger tore painfully as she shuddered, remembering her encounter with him on the road. He had been heading away from town towards his estates which were quite close to hers. Montjoy was supposed to be badly injured and yet there he had stood, seemingly unharmed. And what about the strange figure with him? She stopped chewing and stared at the hangnail. Something about that figure worried her. All swathed in that concealing cloak, he was unidentifiable. He could easily have traversed the boundaries and climbed into her room. Rubbing her temples she turned away from the window and stared at her room. Despite its familiarity, she felt cold looking at it; picturing the intruder stood over her while she slept. Perhaps she would suggest moving closer to town.

Her musing was interrupted by footsteps along the hallway outside her room. They could only belong to Jane and in a panic s
he sprang upright and almost ran back across her room. Diving into bed, she managed to hide the letter just as the door opened. If she were keeping this from her parents, she would certainly hide it from Jane.

“Are you feeling better
Miss?” Her old nurse crossed the room and stoked up the fire, clucking a little at the small amount of mess left by the new maid.

“Much better thank you Jane.” Melissa replied, pulling the plate towards her and starting to eat. Beneath her leg, the parchment crackled unpleasantly against her skin
and she hoped that Jane did not hear it. “I was wondering about moving to our rooms in London. Do you think that mother and father would allow it?”

“Well Miss, I think your mama and papa would wish to come with you.”

“That is what I mean Jane.” Melissa answered, swallowing the cold breakfast with some difficulty. “I can’t be expected to travel there alone.” She shifted slightly, pushing the
parchment further beneath her. “You see this is quite a distance to travel when attending court or other functions.” She explained, practising her speech before she had to try on her father. “It’s too far from here.”

“Well that may be so, but you know your father doesn’t like the town.”

“I know but it is my first season and I can’t be travelling to and fro all the time.” She stared straight at the maid and played her trump card. “How am I expected to find a husband if I am kept away from court?”

Jane look
ed at her mistress and nodded. “That is true.” She agreed readily as she crossed to the bed and pulled back the sheet. Melissa gave a small sigh of relief as she realised that the note was out of sight. “However you won’t be travelling anywhere until these are healed.” Her calloused fingers indicated the bandaged puncture wounds. “The doctor has recommended bed rest.” She checked the bandages and dosed Melissa with another spoonful of Laudanum before removing the tray and heading for the door. “Get some sleep Miss.” She murmured as she left the room and shut the door behind her.