Читать книгу Ascension - A.S. Fenichel - Страница 7

Thoughts of Belinda’s firm rounded bottom nestled on his lap haunted his night and kept sleep at bay. The way she had touched his cock had kept him hard long after he’d returned to his own townhome and tucked himself in to bed. Two glasses of brandy had eventually pushed him into a fitful slumber, which had not lasted very long.

It seemed only polite to wait until late in the morning to call on his fiancée, since he knew she had been up until nearly dawn. At shortly before noon, the butler admitted him to the parlor of the Clayton townhouse.

“Lady Belinda has not yet come down this morning, my lord.”

The butler was quite young for the post. It was uncommon for a butler in an earl’s home to be less than a curmudgeon. The man was probably in his late twenties. His shoulders were broad and the livery strained across his chest and back. He looked more the part of a street thug or a bodyguard than a butler. “It is Faust, correct?” Gabriel asked.

The young man’s eyes widened. Perhaps he was surprised an earl would bother to remember his name. “Yes, my lord.”

“Were you still about last evening when Lady Belinda arrived home?”

Faust’s wide eyes narrowed and he pulled his shoulders back. At his full height, he towered over Gabriel.

The butler knew what Bella was up to at night.

After a pause, Faust responded as any seasoned servant might have done. “I always wait for my lady to arrive home before retiring.”

“A very well thought out answer.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

Whatever Faust’s purpose beyond managing the other servants might be, and he suspected he had other duties. Gabriel liked the butler. “You’re not going to tell me anything, are you, Faust?”

The butler’s face changed once again to the staid mask of his profession. “It would not be my place to offer information outside the family, my lord. I hope you will forgive me.”

“Of course. Will you have the maid alert Lady Belinda of my arrival?” He couldn’t fault the butler for loyalty. He wanted to know what his beloved was up to until the pre-dawn hours, but he admired the servant for his devotion.

“She has already been informed, my lord.”

“Thank you.”

Faust slipped from the parlor.

Gabriel studied the books that lined the shelves. Most were of little interest, tomes common in almost every fine home in London. An ancient volume with faded gold lettering, stuck out from the rest. Perhaps it had been put away hastily. Guide to the Underworld.

He touched the rough binding. “What in the world?”

The door creaked. He smiled and turned.

Unfortunately, his grin was wasted. Belinda was not in the room, and her mother wavered on her feet. The countess was already in her cups even at that early hour. It was quite sad that a woman of her rank, beauty, and advantages had needed to turn to the bottle.

“Lord Gabriel, how wonderful to see you again. It is rather early for a call.”

Gabriel bowed. “It is nearly luncheon, my lady.”

She giggled girlishly. “Is it? How silly of me.” She waved her hand in dismissal of the notion. The motion of her own fingers grabbed her attention and she stared at them while continuing to wave her hand in front of her face. Her eyes became distant and empty.

More than just drink, opium perhaps.

Gabriel stepped forward and offered the lady his arm. It wouldn’t do for her ladyship to collapse and injure herself in the parlor. “Lady Clayton, it is good to see you again.”

She turned and smiled as if seeing him for the first time. “I’m so glad you’re here, my lord. I want to speak to you about Belinda. She seems to have fallen into some kind of trouble. I think she is in need of help. You must help her.”

His heart pounded. Was it even possible, in her current state, Belinda’s mother knew what was happening with her daughter? He didn’t think so, but any lead into Belinda’s nocturnal actions might help. He led her to a chair and handed her into it. “Why do you say such a thing, ma’am?”

“I know you will think I am mad, but I know what I know.” Lady Clayton’s face was pale and her eyes too large. Belinda was the image of her mother, but time and bad habits had taken their toll on the older woman.

“What do you know?” He kept his voice even and calm.

“It was not my fault. Her father should have been here.” A tear spilled and she clutched the edge of the chair.

“Yes, of course.” He had no idea what she was rambling about, but agreeing that it was his lordship’s fault seemed the best response.

“When she disappeared I thought I’d go mad. I called the runners, but they could not find her.” Her words were stringing together rapidly. A flood of tears ran down her cheeks while her breath came in short gasps.

Gabriel touched her shoulder. “Who disappeared?”

“Belinda.”

His first instinct was to rush out and find his fiancée, but he already knew from the butler that she was still above. Even knowing that fact, his heart raced and a sheen of sweat formed on his brow.

He kept his voice soft trying to sooth her. “When was this, my lady?”

Confusion flushed her face.

“It was a long time ago,” Belinda said from the doorway. She glided into the room in a light blue day dress and sat down next to her mother. “I came home and all was well, Mother. I came home.”

Tears streamed down the countess’s face. She touched Belinda’s cheek. “Yes, my sweet girl. You came home.”

“See that, Mother. All is well.” Belinda’s voice was as gentle as the summer wind. She hugged her mother to her breast. When she looked up her eyes glistened with tears, but she didn’t shed any.

His heart tightened painfully filling his chest. In that moment, he loved her more than ever, this gentle woman he remembered. It was the first glimpse he’d had of the old Belinda since his return from war. Holding her mother, she showed the sweetness he yearned for.

“I will just take my mother to her bed, my lord. Do you have time to wait or shall we meet another day?”

“I will wait.” Gabriel made a concerted effort not to jump to any conclusions based on what Lady Clayton had said. She was obviously not a reliable source of information. But there was something to it. Belinda had not denied her disappearance.

She returned from seeing her mother to bed, silent as a cat, but her light feminine scent filled his head more thoroughly than any drug.

“What did she mean, Bella?”

“My mother is not well, Gabriel. You cannot rely on her for the information you seek.” Her lovely face was a mask of composure but the distress in her eyes betrayed her. She made her way to a grouping of chairs and sat.

A maid entered with a tea tray. Claire looked nervously from her lady to him.

Belinda looked at the maid a long moment. Her head twitched in approval.

The servant nodded once before leaving them.

“Then perhaps you would care to tell me what she was talking about?” He made his way over and accepted the cup of tea she poured, before taking the seat across from her.

She tilted the teapot and stared down into the dark liquid.

He could almost see her mind working out exactly what to tell him and how much. How he longed for any sign of trust from her.

“I’m not sure where to begin. It was so long ago.”

“Did you disappear as your mother indicated?”

He gaze never removed from the steaming cup of tea. “Yes.”

“Where did you go?”

“I cannot say.”

His jaw twitched. “Cannot or will not?”

Finally, she looked up with wide eyes and between them, a crease marred her smooth skin. Her teacup rattled against the saucer. Was she afraid to tell him the truth or did the memory scare her? Still, she did not answer.

“Did you leave of your own accord, Bella?”

“No. I would never do that to my mother.”

“So you were abducted.”

She gave a short nod, but turned her eyes back to the cup of tea. Her knuckles whitened where she gripped the delicate china but the rattling ceased.

Gabriel’s body shook with rage. It took all of his considerable will to keep from going into a tirade. For all her denial since his return, Belinda Clayton was his. The thought of someone touching her or doing her harm, ignited something in him that he had only experienced in the heat of battle. The desire to kill. Someone had to pay. It took him a long time to formulate any words, and then he could only manage one. “Who?”

“I do not know exactly.”

He steadied his ragged breath. “When did this happen?”

She cocked her head and watched him.

He must not have done a very good job of hiding his feelings because she studied his face with great interest. He never could hide anything from Belinda.

“It was a few months after you left for France. I was gone for three days and then I escaped with some help. After a few days in hospital, I came home. The events were very traumatizing to my mother.”

“Why was I not notified?”

“Father sent a note, but you could not be located. Really, there was no point. I was safe. There was little you could have done.” Her tone was very matter-of-fact, but her cheeks had gone pale and the teacup rattled again.

“Will you tell me what happened to you?” He reminded himself that his need for revenge was not as important as caring for Belinda, and tried to push away his anger.

Her eyes flashed with something, anger or determination. “No. It is in the past and I have no desire to relive those memories. I survived and have moved forward. Perhaps if my father would stay home and care for his wife, she too could put it behind her. As it is, she is in constant fear of losing both of us. Though, for the life of me, I cannot understand why she should care what happens to a man who cannot be bothered to leave his precious Scotland and see his family.”

It was well known among the ton that Lord Clayton, the Earl of Shafton, preferred his Scottish holding of Brendaligh over any of his lands in England. He rarely came down from his castle in the highlands and there was much speculation about his doings out in the wilds. Most people thought he kept a mistress, but others thought him a mad recluse. “His lordship came to town when you went missing?”

“Yes. He arrived shortly after I returned home. I was still ill and remained in bed. He stayed for one week before the stress of the city was too much for him. Mother offered to retire to the country for the rest of the year, but he refused, saying that only Brendaligh could give him peace.”

“Why did you and her ladyship not go to Scotland with him?”

“We were not invited. I have never even seen Brendaligh.” She bit the words out with the taste of sour grapes.

“I see.”

She put her cup and saucer down and rose from the chair. “My lord, I do not wish to be rude, but I think I have had enough social interaction for the day. I would ask you to take your leave. I’m tired and my mother needs me.”

He stood up and inclined his head. “I understand.” He hoped his frustration didn’t show on his face. He wanted more information. He needed to know what had happened to her and why she had changed so severely. The visit had been productive, he’d learned quite a lot, but he wanted more. Frustration burned in his gut.

Without another word, she curtsied and left him alone in the parlor.

It was not customary to leave one’s guest to find his own way out, but he ignored the slight and met Faust at the door.

* * * *

It occurred to him to leave her alone for the night. He’d sat at his desk thinking that the two of them had made progress. She’d told him some things about her life, though the information had raised more questions than it answered. In spite of the topic, he was pleased they’d had a dialogue.

He could go to Whites Gentleman’s Club and enjoy an evening of cards and brandy. He’d even donned his evening clothes and called for his carriage. Belinda would stay at home or go to the theatre. She would be safe for the night, and he could enjoy himself without worry.

“Who am I kidding?”

“I beg your pardon, my lord?” The coachman opened the door for his employer.

“Nothing. Take me a block away from the Clayton townhouse.” He stepped up into his carriage.

“A block away, sir?”

“Yes, you heard me correctly. One block away from the house.”

The driver closed the door without another word.

When they arrived at the destination, Gabriel stepped down unassisted and walked the last block to her house. Hoping to find Belinda tucked away in a parlor reading a book or sewing, he was unsurprised to see her slip out the gate at the side garden.

She wore her hair tied back away from her face. She reminded him of the child he had known and grown to love. A long, dark cape covered her dress and she quickly pulled the hood over her head.

Gabriel ducked behind a tall shrub before she passed.

The hood did not mask her face. The intense look on her face was an intriguing difference from the daughterly concern he’d admired earlier.

She is right. I do not know her at all anymore. His gut clenched.

He followed at a discreet distance.

Belinda never turned or gave any indication that she knew he was behind her. They had walked nearly ten blocks when a carriage with a strange emblem on the door stopped, and she climbed in unassisted. She had not even waited for a coachman to pull the steps down for her. She swung up into that vehicle with the ease of a very fit man.

None of it made sense.

Within a block, the streets of London became crowded and her carriage made little progress. It was easy for Gabriel to follow on foot. However, he knew that wouldn’t last if they left the area. He found a hack.

“Where to, gov?” The driver asked.

“Do you see that carriage with the winged lion and the sword on the door?”

The man looked, squinted and then nodded.

“If you can follow it without being noticed, it is worth ten crown to you.”

The driver’s face lit up and he showed his yellowed teeth. “No problem, gov. I’m the finest hack driver in London. I’ll not be spotted.”

“See that you’re not and do not dare lose them.” Gabriel’s heart pounded as he jumped into the carriage. Sweat dotted his face and the tightness in his chest ached painfully. He wanted to know who was in the carriage with her and where she was going. How do I protect her?

The hack driver was as good as his word. He never lost sight of Belinda’s carriage nor did he ever get close enough to be seen in the crowded areas of London. Once they were near the port, the carriage stopped and so did Gabriel’s hack, though nearly two blocks away and around a corner.

“Two people just got out and walked down the alley on the right, gov.”

“Well done. Here is my card. Call on me tomorrow. I may have other work for you. You are indeed a fine driver.” Gabriel handed the money and the card to the driver who had jumped down from his perch.

The driver’s eyes widened. “How’s about I wait right here for you, my lord? That way you’ll be sure to get home. This is a bit of a rough neighborhood.”

“Much appreciated.” Gabriel hardly had the words out of his mouth and he ran toward the alley, where Belinda had disappeared.

Only a few steps down the alley the smells of vomit, urine, sweat and ale assailed his nose. Nothing else but a tavern, and a well-frequented one, could boast quite the same odor. He remembered it well from his school days. Belinda couldn’t have gone into such a place. When the door opened, a group of men stumbled out into the street.

Gabriel wished he’d worn different clothes. Still, some action was required. “Gentlemen, can you tell me if a young woman just entered the tavern?”

The three men turned. One stumbled badly, the effects of drink, no doubt. They looked him up and down. Their eyes were wide as were their mouths then two of them burst out in laughter.

The third only wobbled.

“Must be a night for the swells to come out with the salt of the earth,” one with a barrel chest and beady eyes said.

“I feels like a swell myself, Bob. Never spoke to so many upper-crusters before in me life,” the short skinny one replied.

The one who had stumbled stared dumbly at Gabriel.

Gabriel smiled, pulled two coins from his purse and tossed them to the coherent pair. They each caught one coin and looked down into their hands.

Bob recovered first. “Yeah she’s in there. Keepin’ good company too.”

“Who is she with?” He tried to sound unconcerned but the strain in his voice belied that.

Bob’s eyes narrowed and he looked back down at the crown in his hand. “Reece Foxjohn. He comes by now and then for information. Only seen the woman once or twice before. Usually he’s got Lilly with him.”

“What type of information?”

“That will cost you,” the skinny one spoke up.

“Tell me what I want to know and I will double what’s in your hand.” He didn’t have time for haggling with drunks.

“He always wants to know who has gone missing or been killed. Seems real concerned about crime and asks about strange types of people lurking around.”

“And what do you tell this Foxjohn?”

Bob said, “Dave Cobbie up and disappeared last week. Strange that, since he’s a real family man. Wife don’t know what to make of it. Jannie O’Hurly got killed by someone who took a bite out of her face two days ago. Must have been a madman.”

“How odd,” Gabriel said.

“Yeah,” Bob continued. “Not too often that one of your type cares what’s happening down here with the scum.”

Gabriel tossed them each a coin, which they caught. “Thank you for your time, gentlemen.” He nodded once and slipped into the shadows to wait for Belinda to leave the tavern.

The two men hoisted the third by his shoulders and started down the alley away from him. The sounds of them boasting their good fortune drifted back toward Gabriel.

Gabriel watched the tavern door. His muscles grew stiff from skulking in the shadows and he’d grown used to the foul stench. Several people stumbled from the door and each time it opened, his heart pounded.

Belinda and Foxjohn stepped from the tavern and walked quickly back to the street where they’d left their carriage.

“I appreciate you coming along, Belinda. It always goes better with a lady along to smooth any ruffled feathers. It is also preferable to have some backup, in case it goes bad.” The narrow alley allowed their voices to carry.

“I forgot to ask you, where is Lillian tonight?” Belinda’s voice was businesslike. The fact that she sounded as if she were talking to an associate rather than a lover only made Gabriel feel marginally better.

“She had a family problem to deal with.”

“Family? I had not realized Lillian had family in London.” Her voice rose with surprise.

“Yes, well we all have our secrets, do we not, Belinda?” The smile Foxjohn turned on Belinda made Gabriel want to kill him where he stood.

“That we do, Reece.”

They climbed into the same carriage and rolled away down the street.

Gabriel found his hack waiting exactly as he said he would. “What is your name?”

The driver was tall and broad, likely in his late twenties. “Thor, my lord.”

“What an unusual name?”

“Me mum was Norwegian, said it would make me a god.” He looked back at his vehicle and laughed.

Gabriel liked the hack driver. He gave him the direction to the Clayton townhouse and climbed in. When they arrived, Thor climbed down.

“Thank you for your assistance tonight.” Gabriel handed Thor more money.

He put his hand up and shook his head. “Keep your money, my lord. You still want me to come by tomorrow?”

“Yes. As I said, I may have further use of your particular talents.”

Thor grinned wide. “Then we can work out my wages tomorrow, my lord.”

Gabriel nodded and extended his hand.

Thor looked down at the hand and after a pause, took hold and shook it firmly then looked up at the Clayton townhouse. “You sure you don’t need me to wait?”

Gabriel shook his head. “I can manage from here.”

“Tomorrow then.” Thor jumped back up in his seat, set the horses in motion and turned the corner out of sight.