The Black Lotus (Night Flower) (34 page)

“I will,” Marcus led Justin to the stable door
, beyond the wood, they could hear the chortles and talk of the grooms. Reluctantly, Marcus reached for the handle.

“
Marcus,” The other man turned to stare at him, “Make it good.”

Melissa’s brother nodded and he turned back to the stable door. Placing his hands on the grainy wood, he hesitated for the briefest of moments. Glancing back at the wounded man, he smiled grimly. “Take care Lestrade,” He whispered as he pushed open the stable door and let them out into the light.

Chapter 34:

“Do you really think that you should watch
Miss?” Jane’s mildly disapproving tones resonated through the parlour and interrupted Melissa’s contemplation of the scene below her.

Sprawled in the dust of the stable yard floor and with a bloody nose and lip, Justin lay. Her brother, who had just dealt the blows that had bloodied Justin’s face, stood over him, his face twisted into an expression of utter loathing. Something twisted within Melissa as she stared at her beloved brother and Jane’s disapproving tones did nothing to dispel the growing knot of anger that was building within her breast.

“And why not Jane?” Melissa’s voice, hushed and angry whispered in the space between them. “This is all for my benefit after all.” Marcus delivered a solid kick to Justin’s midsection and Melissa winced, her nails bending painfully as she gripped the windowsill in a in a death grip. “Never mind that Justin is innocent.” She watched the blood pour down from Justin’s split lip and nausea flowed through her. How could her brother do this to him? Was he not injured enough? Blood dripped from his chin and spattered onto the dust of the yard, turning the sand a deep brown. Melissa watched with morbid fascination. Something about that darkening pool of blood held her gaze and sounded a note of discord deep within her bones.

Jane derisive snort recalled her attention and Melissa whipped round from the window to face her, eyes bright with angry unshed tears.

“Oh I’m so sorry Jane,” Melissa declared, her voice saccharine sweet and cutting. “I forgot that you know all of this matter.” Jane stared at her mistress’ bright eyes and, undeterred by her rage, began to speak.

“Lestrade is a bad lot Miss,” Jane spoke with the surety of age and familiarity, few others could speak so freely and Jane used her position without qualm. “He attacked you in your bed and now he’s paying for it.”

“Really?” Melissa walked forward, rage filling her voice as she spoke. “You could really see that it was him?” She stopped just a step away from her maidservant and challenged her with her eyes and voice. “For I did see who it was, only a masked assailant with a knife.” She shrugged her shoulders and continued. “Perhaps you were privy to a completely different assault.”

Jane harrumphed with exasperation and stared at the girl she had brought up from childhood. Her mistress’s moods were well known to her and at this moment, she was displaying all the charming qualities of an ox, stubborn and intractable. “What I know Miss is that he was found outside in the garden, it could only have been him. We know what a danger he is to respectable women.”

“No you don’t,” Melissa snapped back, trying hard to keep a leash on her temper, yet failing at each word from Jane’s lips. She drew a deep breath and briefly closed her eyes, mentally counting out the digits from one to ten. “The man who attacked me was clearly taller than Justin.”

“It were dark Miss.”

“And he stood on a box to assault me, ahh well that explains everything.” Jane winced at the cutting sarcasm that dripped from Melissa’s mouth. “Jane,” Melissa looked at her old nurse’s face and tried once more to explain. “Justin may be a cad,” She ignored the grunt that escaped Jane’s lips and continued. “He may be a cad, but I swear he is innocent of this and I should know.” She ran an agitated hand through her hair. “Yet everyone appears to disregard what I have to say, even though I was there and know what happened.”

“If you forgive me Miss, it was quite dark and confusing. How could you tell height in the dark? And he was discovered on the edge of..”

“Oh yes, I know all of this already,” Melissa interrupted, her calm voice seething once more. “Justin was on the edge of our estate, so clearly he must be responsible. However I know that my attacker had a completely different build and height to Justin. I told this to my father and he took my testimony to mean that I was not attacked, that I had invited Justin to my room.” Melissa cradled the darkening bruise on her cheek and she curled her lip in anger. Her words tripped out of her mouth, falling over themselves in their haste. “He’s only believing the attack story because of Mother and she,” Her voice broke on the last words and she whirled away and began to pace the length of the room.

“My mother believes that I was attacked but feels that I am a weak minded fool who is blinded by a pretty face and my brother,” She stopped pacing and turned back towards Jane who took a step back at the sheer fury she saw in Melissa’s eyes. “My brother is beating him senseless because he also believes me love struck and foolish. No one is listening to a word I say and I know he didn’t do it.” Melissa drew in a deep shuddering breath and sank into a nearby chair.

“And you,” She whispered softly, the rage draining slowly from her as she spoke, “You who know me better than anyone, believe that I am wrong.” She stopped speaking and leant forward, sinking her head into her cupped hands. Silence built between them and Jane shifted uncomfortably on her feet. Melissa was not crying, she could see that, but she could tell from her rigid position that she was not very far from tears.

“Miss,” She began tremulously, her old voice soft and calming. It was a voice she had used to Melissa often as a young child.

“Just leave me alone,” Melissa’s muffled tones issued from behind her clasped hands. Jane stared for a long moment at her old charge and gave a curt nod, before she finally turned and left the room. Melissa heard her footsteps echo away down the stairs and she stood up and turned back to the window.

Marcus and Justin now stood before the open stable doors. Her brother’s back was to the house and she had a clear view of the horrendous injuries that covered Justin’s face. Once again a sense of unease, of wrongness shuddered through her. Taking a fortifying breath of air, she watched her brother berate Justin, who stood stoic and unspeaking throughout it all.

“Why Marcus?” Melissa’s voice was a long drawn out moan of despair as she watched him seize Justin’s bruised and unsteady form and face him away from the estate. As Justin took his first faltering step, Marcus shoved him forward, nearly throwing him back to the floor. Justin staggered and picked up the pace, running with limping ragged steps across the gravel drive and towards the park. Melissa watched as the grooms, laughing and joking, headed back into the stables and her brother finally walked back towards the house.

Melissa turned away from the window and sat in the chair, composing her face in a hard mask as she waited for her brother’s footsteps to ascend the stairs and reach her. She didn’t have long to wait. In no time at all, Marcus made his way into the parlour where he stopped at the sight of Melissa’s stony face. He lowered his gaze as she stared at him.

“You saw?”

Melissa nodded, her eyes accusatory and fixed on her brother. “How could you?” Her voice was low, the anger in her too extreme for shouts. Marcus shuffled his feet and did not answer.

“Well talk to me?” Melissa’s voice was brittle as glass and he could feel the contained fury that she held within. “I’m sure you have something to say after you battered an innocent man.”

Marcus opened his mouth, closed it again and slowly shook his head. Melissa got to her feet, her eyes flashed dangerously and her face grew livid with rage.

“I never would have thought it of you,” She hissed at him, anger fuelling every word. “After everything I said to you this morning, you still went out there and…” Her voice stammered to a halt, strangled for the moment by her seething emotions.

Marcus just watched her, his face impassive as the silence lengthened between them. He wanted to say something, but he had given his word, Justin had been willing to take that beating for her honour and he couldn’t renege on his oath. Yet he wished he could take what he had done back, regardless of the circumstances, he had still beaten a helpless man into a pulp. It was not something he was proud of and Melly, he stared at her raging face and wished he could say something, anything to her, but anything he could say would be inadequate and so he stood there, taking her rage and pain.

“You’re not the person I thought you were,” Melissa uttered finally before sweeping past him and heading out onto the landing. Marcus watched her go, following the hem of her mint coloured day dress as it brushed through the doorway and out of sight. With a heartfelt sigh, he sank into the chair that his sister had just vacated and he rubbed his bruised hands across his eyes.

“I’m so sorry Melly,” He whispered, the words barely audible in the empty room, “but he asked me to,”

Melissa ran to her room and threw open the door, the shutters were still closed, yet the glass had been swept up and fresh sheets now adorned her bed. Pushing the door shut, she threw herself onto her bed and sank her face into the pillow. Her eyes remained dry as she breathed in the scent of rose water and down. Swallowing back the tears that she so wished to shed, she forced herself to remember the events of that morning. Her father striking her across the face, her mother’s disapproval and Marcus, she balled up her fists and punched the pillow, Marcus as he slammed his fist into Justin’s face. She had been watching from the moment Marcus had headed outside, she had seen him enter the stable and stay there for some time. Hope had found a place in her thoughts as the doors opened and they spilled out of the darkness together into the grey early morning light. Justin was badly wounded, a state that triggered a sense of outrage and also vague unease. She had known that he had been hurt yet she had not known how badly, but a glance at his swollen face had tugged at her heart. For the briefest of moments she had thought that Marcus had mending relations with Justin, yet that forlorn hope had been banished as Marcus turned and punched the other man. She had watched as his fists slammed into an already damaged body and face and she cried aloud as fresh blood spattered his shirt. She clenched her fist around the down filled pillow and tried to focus away from his wounds. How could Marcus have done this, after all she had said? It was not like her brother at all, she knew that he had attacked Justin the night before and that she could understand. He had thought that Justin had been her assailant, but this, she drew a deep breath and forced away the tears that seemed so present, crying would not help. What had Marcus and Justin been talking about for Marcus to attack like that, what had Justin said? She closed her eyes as thoughts of the night before settled into her mind.

“You have to leave me here.”

Justin’s words echoed once more through her thoughts and her eyes snapped open, appalled by the revelation that accompanied the memory.

“You made him,” She whispered to her pillow, the voice muffled by the soft down and cotton. “Dear Lord, you said enough to force his hand, why?” Even though she could attain no answer, she pushed herself upright and sat up. “Damn my reputation Lestrade, I don’t want to be protected at the expense of your skin,” Once more, visions of his bruised, bloody form paraded though her mind. “As if you weren’t damaged enough, you had to goad him into brutality.” She stopped and stood up, the vague sense of unease that had followed her since she first seen him leave the stable, now returned with a vengeance. Her thoughts drifted back to a single event, one that had changed her perception of the world. She recalled his hand picking up his hat, the shears slicing into the ball of his thumb and the wound closing as she watched.

“Why is he still wounded?” It came to her then, in one solid flash, what had bothered her as he had walked free from the stable. Blinded by the rage that had accompanied Marcus’ first blow, she had failed to notice that Justin was still injured from the night before. He was covered with injuries that shouldn’t still be there, injuries that the enamel lotus was supposed to heal. Yet the lotus was not fastened to his neck, and had not been since last night. Marcus had not mentioned taking his jewellery and she wondered if the grooms had removed the enamel bloom. She shook her head, dismissing that thought, if the grooms had removed one piece of jewellery, they would have not stopped there. Justin was wearing several pieces of expensive decoration and from what she could see from the window, he was still in possession of most of them. Someone who knew about the blossom had torn it from his shirt and now held it hostage. She had read enough of Justin’s notes to understand that his wounds would not heal, that he would be in agony from his injuries until he received the brooch back. She recalled what Justin had said about John, if he had taken the brooch, he would be sure to keep it on him in order to prolong Justin’s suffering. He would also mingle more fully with society as Justin would not now be admitted to certain functions thanks to this morning’s work. John could hide out at the Palace for the next six months and Justin would suffer. Coming to a decision, Melissa yanked at the bell pull beside the door, summoning Jane to her room in a flurry of action.