Читать книгу A Rake by Midnight - Gail Ranstrom - Страница 11

Gina had expected shock, perhaps even outraged protests, but not stunned silence. Apart from the heavy rain outside the windows and the decisive tick of the tall case clock on the wall opposite the fireplace, the library was silent. Not even the clink of a teacup being replaced in its saucer broke the spell.

She glanced around the circle at the faces of her friends. Her sister, Isabella, looked as if she were sitting atop a coiled spring, ready to catapult off the settee and restrain her. Lady Annica, a darkly beautiful woman, wore a puzzled frown; Lady Sarah’s expression was curious with a tinge of sympathy in her violet eyes—eyes so like her brother’s that it always caught Gina by surprise. Grace Hawthorne, whom she had just met today, was more difficult to read, but Gina thought there might be a small crack in her serene countenance.

Gina cleared her throat and prayed she could keep her voice steady. “I was given to believe this group might be of some help in the matter. If not, then I apologize for broaching the subject.”

A collective sigh was expelled and Isabella rose. “Gina! Are you mad?” She hurried to the library door, tested the lock, and returned to her chair.

“Nearly so,” Gina admitted. Indeed, there was very little difference between true madness and what she’d been feeling for the past two months. “But I have come to believe that finding Mr. Henley is the only way I can change that.”

“How do you propose to do that, dear?” Grace Hawthorne asked as she set her teacup down and smoothed her sky-blue skirts.

“I do not know how much you may have heard about my family’s recent problems, Mrs. Hawthorne, but they have been extraordinary. The dust has settled a bit, what with Isabella and Lilly marrying, but I am still…” Gina stopped to clear her throat again, which was frequently raw since Lord Daschel had nicked it with a knife. “Still at odds.”

Grace, who had been out of the country with her husband, gave a little smile of encouragement and Isabella hastened to finish Gina’s explanation. “Almost as soon as our family arrived in London in May, our oldest sister, Cora, was kidnapped and murdered. Gina and I undertook to find the killer when the authorities had given up. Cora lived long enough to tell us that her killer was a member of the ton. With that as our only clue, we sought out men who fit that description and who had an interest in…in dark rituals and self-indulgence. Gina came close enough to be kidnapped by Mr. Henley as the next ritual sacrifice. But there were complications.”

Gina looked down at her hands, clenched tightly in her lap. “Most of the men were arrested, and Lord Daschel, the man who murdered Cora, was killed. Then a fortnight ago, all the others were found and arrested but for their leader, Cyril Henley. I have been feeling so…unsettled. So vulnerable. And worse—increasingly angry. When I leave the house, I cannot stop looking over my shoulder or settle the nausea in my stomach. I cannot bear the thought of going through the rest of my life like this. I must do something to bring an end to it. And I fear nothing will end it until the villain is caught.” Through the thoughtful silence that followed her declaration, Gina heard Lady Annica sigh.

“We understand more than you might think, Eugenia. You have come to the right place. The Wednesday League is prepared to assist women in your circumstances. We have certain resources and can work in ways that the Home Office cannot. But tell us, as precisely as possible, what you want to accomplish.”

“Immediately after that night, I recalled nothing. Within a few days, memories began to return, but some of it still eludes me. I doubt it will ever come back entirely, and perhaps that is a blessing. But I want…” She could not tell them that she wanted the answers to what had happened to her. That she wanted the truth—all of it—good or bad. They would tell her to leave well enough alone. But there was something else she wanted, too. “I want…justice.”

Lady Annica smiled. “We shall see that you get it, Eugenia, one way or another.”

“I must be a part of it,” Gina told them quickly. “I cannot sit idly by, waiting for someone else to free me from this poisonous feeling. Twice, the authorities have failed to capture him. How can you help me succeed when others have not?”

Lady Sarah stood and came to rest her hand on Gina’s shoulder. “Give us a chance, Gina. We’ve succeeded in equally difficult circumstances. And what would you do? Haunt the Whitechapel streets alone? Prowl the rookeries after dark? That would be far too dangerous. Of course you will be involved in every aspect of the investigation, but surely you see the sense in allowing someone else to go about in your place.”

“Please, Gina,” Bella entreated. “What if something happened to you, too?”

If something happened? A sharp pain pierced Gina’s brain. If? Oh, why couldn’t she remember? Small bits and pieces, fleeting fragments, were all she had. She took a deep breath and pushed the uncertainty of the past two months away. “I do not want to waste another moment feeling like this.”

“Give us a reasonable length of time, Gina,” Grace appealed. “If we are not successful within a month, we shall find some way to involve you further.”

That was more than Gina had expected, though not as much as she intended to take. No, she intended to confront those men, and she intended to have her answers. She took a deep breath and nodded. At least she would be moving forward.

Lady Annica stood. “Excellent! Shall we adjourn to La Meilleure Robe? I shall send ahead to Madame Marie requesting that she ask Mr. Renquist to be there.”

“We are going to a dressmaker?” Gina asked in disbelief.

Grace leaned over and patted her clenched hands. “Madame Marie’s husband is a Bow Street runner, dear. Quite the best of the lot. If he cannot help us, no one can.”

Madame Marie, the French émigré owner of La Meilleure Robe, had been known to turn down clients on a whim. One was considered very fortunate to have a gown fashioned by the modiste to the aristocracy. The O’Rourke girls had been privileged to have had a number of their gowns made by her when they’d first arrived in London—gowns that had been meant to launch them in society but remained unworn in their wardrobes.

Gina was treated to a vastly different experience on this visit. She and Bella were ushered into a comfortable back dressing room which almost resembled a parlor where the other ladies were waiting. There were side tables and comfortable chairs arranged in a semicircle facing a small dressmaker’s platform with mirrors behind.

When they were seated, Madame Marie entered from a side door and spread her arms wide. “La! ’Ow long ’as it been, ladies? Many months, yes? I pray you ’ave not gotten into more trouble.”

Lady Annica removed her gloves and bonnet. “Not us, Madame. A friend of ours needs help.”

Marie’s glance skipped across the gathered faces—Lady Sarah, Grace Hawthorne, Charity MacGregor, Lady Annica, Bella and Gina, herself. Madame’s gaze settled on Gina, and she felt a blush rise to her cheeks. Was it so obvious?

“François will be ’ere in a moment. ’E will want to ’ave the story from the beginning, eh? Be comfortable, and I shall tell the girls to bring tea. We must chat afterwards, yes?” And with that, the handsome Frenchwoman disappeared through the side door again.

Gina sank into a chair beside Lady Sarah. She was having misgivings about recounting her story—or at least what she could remember of it—to a man. The tale was difficult enough to share with another woman.

Bella came to her and took her hand. “You are very brave to be doing this, Gina. Do not let that courage fail you now.”

Brave? Thank heavens they did not know the fear she lived with daily. The fear that Henley would come after her again. But she would conquer that fear for her rough justice. “Mama mustn’t suspect.”

Bella laughed. “Oh, you may be certain of that. I cannot even imagine what she might do—after she recovered from her swoon, of course.”

“You may trust us all,” Lady Sarah told her, slipping one arm around Bella’s waist as she leaned close. “Everything that transpires in this room is utterly confidential.”

Lady Sarah was the sister of Lord Lockwood, Andrew, James and Charles, and she was reassured to know that none of what was revealed here would be repeated to any of them. Relief brought a smile to her lips.

“Furthermore,” Lady Sarah continued, “since you have said that you wish to be involved, you will have to enter society, Gina. It is the only way to gain access to the information we seek. We shall arrange for you to attend all the best functions, the more extravagant balls and crushes, and whatever other events that seem appropriate.”

“Oh, I…”

“You met the Thayer twins at my oldest brother’s house before…well, before. They have just arrived back in town after their summer holiday. Hortense and Harriet are quite lively and they know simply everyone and everything that goes on. In their company, you would have entrée to anywhere you wish to go.”

Gina also recalled that the Thayer twins were singularly beautiful with their combination of copper hair and startling green eyes. But were they discreet?

The thought of entering society left her short of breath, but she had no time to protest when the side door opened and a maid carrying a tea tray entered, followed by a pleasant-looking man of average height. This would be Francis Renquist, Madame Marie’s husband. His hair was sandy brown and his blue eyes had crinkle lines at the corners. Instinctively, Gina knew she could trust him.

“Ladies,” he greeted them with a small bow, and when he straightened he rubbed his hands together. “I understand you have something for me?”

The maid left the tray on a side table and closed the door behind her, after which Lady Annica spoke. “We need to find some men, Mr. Renquist. Some particularly elusive men.”

His bushy eyebrows rose. “What have they done, my lady?”

“Have you heard of the Blood Wyvern Brotherhood, sir?”

The color drained from his face. “How are you involved with these men?”

“We are not involved,” Lady Sarah soothed. “Nor do we wish to be. We merely wish to locate the last of them, after which we shall inform the authorities where to find him.”

“Even so…”

Lady Annica busied herself pouring out cups of tea and bringing them to the ladies, speaking as she did so. “Miss O’Rourke—” she indicated Gina with an inclination of her head “—and her sister, Mrs. Hunter, had some dealings with them a few months back. They are aware of the dangers and do not intend to encounter or confront the man involved. They simply have an interest in seeing that the perpetrators are safely locked away.”

Gina blinked and squelched a pang of guilt. She fully intended to confront Mr. Henley. How else would she get her answers? But she feared the ladies would withdraw their support if she told them as much.

Mr. Renquist looked doubtful. “What, exactly, do you hope to accomplish?”

“Location, Mr. Renquist. That is all that we shall require of you,” Grace Hawthorne said. “We do not want you to apprehend him or even speak to him. Just find him.”

“As you are aware, these matters are rarely so simple.”

“This will be, Mr. Renquist,” Lady Sarah assured him.

“The Home Office is expending every resource at their disposal to bring this man to justice. Why must you risk involving yourselves—”

Lady Annica lowered her voice. “It is a personal matter,” she said with a note of finality.

Mr. Renquist turned to look at Gina for one long moment. She held her breath, seeing that he wanted to refuse and was measuring her resolve. He must have read the determination in her heart because he let out a long sigh and nodded. “I will look into it, ladies, but I cannot make any promises. I will meet you here to report my findings twice a week unless there is need for more urgency. If you will let my wife know the days and times most convenient for you, I shall arrange to be here.”

“Excellent!” Lady Sarah smiled and touched Mr. Renquist’s arm as he turned to go. “Would you please send Madame Marie to us? Miss O’Rourke will need to commission a gown to account for her frequent visits here.”

A moment later, Madame Marie appeared in the doorway, one finger tapping her cheek thoughtfully as she studied Gina’s form. “Hmm. Something low and provocative, eh? Guaranteed to bring a man to ’is knees, yes? They will be so distracted that when you ask the questions, chéri, they will be compelled to give you the truth.”

Gina suspected she would wear sackcloth if it would get to the truth.

By the time she and Bella arrived home, Gina barely had time to freshen up for afternoon tea. She hurried down the stairs on her way to the parlor, but the sound of muffled voices from the library stopped her. Brotherhood, she heard, and Henley. Not given to eavesdropping, she nevertheless hesitated outside the door. The sound of Andrew’s voice, and those of James and Charles, was more than she could resist. Was this the business that closeted the brothers together in the library so often? Her business?

“But the leads are drying up,” Charles’s voice carried to her.

“…looking in the wrong places,” Andrew replied.

“Where would you look?” James asked. “Parlors and sitting rooms?”

A laugh, cut off in the middle, answered that question. “Go back to the hells and Whitefriar taverns. Farrell will help. He’s family now.”

Gina shivered. Her sister Lilly’s new husband was a bit frightening to everyone but Lilly. Even though he was family now, she suspected it would not be a good thing to be in Devlin Farrell’s debt. But James’s next words disavowed her of that notion.

“He has offered to help, and I will likely find a use for his particular talents. With him covering that end of the inquiries, Charlie and I will look to other avenues. But, as Charlie said, the leads are drying up.”

“I can see you have your own suspicions,” Andrew said.

There was a long pause before James spoke again, almost as if he were weighing his words carefully. “The one source we haven’t explored in depth is his family and close acquaintances. They’ve been reluctant to speak with us and have denied any knowledge of the affair. But, damn it all, Drew, they’ve got to be involved in some way. Henley is canny enough, but he could not elude us so nimbly without help from someone in society, and who more likely to help him than his family or friends? God knows, his family would want to keep the secret of his involvement as long as possible. Their own reputations are at stake. And a man like Henley would not hesitate to prevail upon friends.”

Gina frowned. If Henley’s family was wary of James and the Home Office, she wondered if Mr. Renquist would be able to get past their defenses. Oh! She recalled there had been a woman at one of the two tableaus to which Cyril Henley had taken her before that last fateful night who had been almost as horrified as she. The woman had been familiar with everyone there, but her sensibilities had been more kindred to Gina’s. Both had blushed and studied the floor when one tableau featured a nude woman reclining on a backless couch with nothing but a light shawl draped across one hip and her nether regions. Was that woman Henley’s family? Or a friend? Could she know Henley’s whereabouts? Or was she somehow connected with one of the other men?

Oh, if only she could remember the woman’s name!

The rattle of teacups and saucers warned Gina that someone was bringing the tea service, and she dashed toward the sitting room. It would never do to be caught lurking outside the library door.

Bella looked up from her reading and patted the settee beside her when Gina rushed in. “Mama took Nancy and went shopping. Come sit, Gina. We rarely have time alone together these days.”

Gina retrieved her embroidery from a side table and sat beside her sister. “We shall have to hoard all the moments we can.”

“I know. Mama has been sighing and fretting over letters from her friends until just recently. I worried that she might want to go home, but it seems she is over the worst of her homesickness.”

“I pray we will find a place of our own nearby. I would adore to be close to you and Lilly.”

“Even when Mama finally goes back to Ireland, you should stay with me. Or Lilly. There is a dearth of eligible men in Belfast.”

Gina poked the needle through the fine linen. “You know how it will be, Bella. The die is cast. Cora is gone. You and Lilly are wed. I am the last of us, so it falls to me to become Mama’s companion in her old age.”

Bella put her book aside and studied Gina’s face. “I always thought we would all marry and shuttle Mama between us. In another few years, she will not want to live alone, and between us all, we could take turns.”

“Heaven forbid!” Gina managed a laugh. “Would Andrew have married you, or would Mr. Farrell have married Lilly, if they had known Mama came in the bargain?”

“Andrew has managed quite well,” Bella chuckled. “He did not think you and Mama should be without protection. And I am certain Lilly’s husband feels the same.”

Gina bit her tongue to keep from reminding Bella that her husband, and Lilly’s, were the sort they’d needed protection from. Instead, she shrugged and guided the needle and silk floss through the linen again.

The sitting room door opened and Edwards brought in the tea service, followed by Andrew and his brothers. She and Bella stood to greet them.

“May we join you? Seems like forever since we’ve done anything quite so domestic as having tea with the ladies.”

“Please,” Bella said, her gaze holding her husband’s and a soft color suffusing her cheeks. The room had shrunk to the two of them.

Was that what love looked like? Gina looked away, feeling as if she were intruding and she noted that James, too, was watching them. His gaze shifted to her and she blinked. He gave her a lopsided grin, as if they shared some secret that had eluded the others. She returned his smile, feeling schoolgirl shy.

“I hope you do not mind our interruption, ladies,” Charles said. “We ran into Edwards in the corridor and he advised that it was just the two of you.”

“Not at all,” Bella said. She gestured at a console table that held several carafes and glasses. “May I offer you stronger refreshment?”

Charles grinned and went to the table. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Gina sank back to the settee. She wondered if her guilt at eavesdropping could be read on her face. She retrieved her needlework and rested it on her lap in a pretended study of her work while Bella took charge of the teapot.

“Where is the lovely Mrs. O’Rourke?” James asked as he took a teacup from Bella.

“She is out shopping,” Bella said. “I think she is up to something. She’s been quite giddy the past few days.”

Andrew raised one eyebrow and Gina stifled a giggle. Bella was right—he’d been very good-natured about the O’Rourke invasion, and he was, no doubt, trying to imagine Mama giddy. Shrill, perhaps, feigning helplessness or demanding. But giddy?

The conversation floated around her and she felt herself withdrawing again, as she had so often since that night. Though her eyes remained on her needlework, her right hand went to the scar near the hollow of her throat as she thought of how James had bandaged the gash. He had seen her at her worst. Had he not, perhaps she wouldn’t mind being around him quite so much.

Bella’s voice cut through her thoughts. “Gina!”

She started and glanced up again, the question in her eyes.

“James asked if you are well,” Bella told her.

When she realized she was trying to cover the fading scar, she dropped her hand quickly and nodded. She met his gaze and swallowed hard. Remembering his offer of a truce, she gave him a weak smile. “Quite well, thank you.”

The stiff set of his shoulders relaxed slightly. “Good,” he murmured, as if he had expected her to give a different answer.

An awkward silence stretched out as Bella and Charles glanced between them. Was her discomfort so terribly obvious?

She was relieved when everyone turned toward the sitting room door at a clatter in the foyer accompanied by raised feminine voices. A moment later, Mama burst through the sitting room door with nary an acknowledgement, apology or explanation.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, removing her straw bonnet edged in black silk ribbon and fanning herself with the brim. “Public coachmen are so rude! Why, this one did not even want to help me with my packages! Nancy and I had to fetch them all.”

Gina tried to imagine their poor maid, now carrying the entire lot up the stairs to Mama’s room. “What did you purchase, Mama?”

“Quite a few things, dear. Several bolts of cloth, for when I am out of mourning—” she gestured at her black bombazine gown “—and some very nice Belgian lace, trims and notions. Then I went to Fortnum and Mason to purchase tins of dried fruits, exotic teas and preserves.”

Bella frowned. “I am certain Cook has enough—”

“They are not for cook, silly girl.” Mama sighed as she sank into a comfortable chair. “They are for us to take home. So difficult to find the finer things in Belfast, you know. Why, Belgian lace costs twice as much in the shops there! I confess, I delight in knowing I shall be the envy of all my friends.”

Gina smiled. These were the sure signs that Mama was beginning to heal from Cora’s death. “Surely there will be time enough to find everything you want.”

“Time enough? Why, there’s scarcely any time left at all! We shall be returning to Ireland within the fortnight.”

Gina could only stare at her mother in disbelief. She’d said nothing about returning to Ireland so soon! Not even a hint!

Bella intervened. “I thought you’d stay longer. With Lilly just wed, she may need you.”

Mama gave her a jaded look. “I believe the Farrells have no need for me at all. Mr. Farrell seems to have Lilly well in hand.” She turned to spare Andrew a glimpse. “As does Mr. Hunter seem to suit you well. No, you and Lilly have no need of me. Eugenia and I shall leave within a fortnight.”

Fortnight? She could not possibly be ready so soon! Mr. Renquist had indicated it could take months to find Mr. Henley. She stood in her agitation, acutely aware that James Hunter was watching her with marked curiosity. “Could we not stay until Christmas?”

“Christmas? Good heavens, Eugenia!” Mama put her hat aside and accepted a teacup from Bella. “Why, we cannot leave our house in Belfast unattended so long. Was it not always our intent to give you girls a season and leave for home afterward? You will recall I originally let the house in St. James until September. Just because we removed here and have been in mourning does not mean I changed our plans.”

“Mrs. O’Rourke, you are welcome here as long as you wish to stay,” Andrew told her. Gina wondered how much that offer had cost him.

“Kind of you, I am sure,” Mama said. “But I’ve already made arrangements. I decided that traveling overland is far too tedious and booked our berths yesterday, and today I ordered crates to be delivered for our goods.” She spread her arms wide as if she dared anyone to argue. “’Tis a fait accompli.”

“Excuse me.” Gina prayed she could keep her composure until she exited the sitting room.