Sebastian smiled slightly as he took her arm and led her out onto the floor. “Never fear, Prue. I will always find you, regardless of where you go or how well hidden you may be.”
She wrinkled her nose at him as he swung her into the dance. “That sounds more like a threat than a promise.”
“Yes, I suppose it does.”
“Honestly, Sebastian, sometimes you are impossible.”
“I know, my dear, but you seem to be able to deal with me. How did your investigation conclude this afternoon?”
“It was very disappointing, if you must know,” Prudence said. “I could not produce a single ghost with the electricity machine. I am beginning to wonder if there is a flaw in my new theory.”
“Perhaps there was no ghost to be found in that particular garret.”
“Probably not. I discovered a scarf in the room that belonged to one of the housemaids. When I interviewed her she admitted that she has been meeting one of the footmen up in the garret late at night. I believe they are the source of the moaning sounds Miss Singleton heard.”
“Another blow for logic and reason.”
“I suppose so, but hardly an interesting solution to the puzzle.” She eyed him closely. “What was going on out there on the terrace between you and your cousin? I do hope you were not causing trouble.”
“I am crushed by your lack of faith in my social tact.”
“Hah.”
“I have been wanting to speak to you for the past several hours,” Sebastian said.
“Have you?”
“I tracked down the owner of the snuffbox.”
Prudence brightened. “That is wonderful, my lord. How very clever of you.”
“Thank you.” Sebastian could not keep the trace of smugness out of his voice.
“I am delighted to hear the news and I cannot wait to learn the details, but what has that got to do with Mr. Fleet-wood?”
“The snuffbox belongs to Jeremy.”
Prudence stared at him. “Sebastian, are you serious?”
“Very.” Sebastian watched his cousin reenter the ballroom and move quickly through the throng. Jeremy’s face was grim as he headed toward the door. His stride was that of a tense, angry man.
“Good heavens,” Prudence whispered in dismay as she followed his gaze. “Jeremy looks upset.”
“Yes.”
“Oh, dear. The word will be all over Town tomorrow that you and he have quarreled.”
Sebastian shrugged. “A quarrel between Jeremy and me will not be news, Prue. The only thing that would interest the gossips would be rumors that he and I had engaged in a friendly conversation.”
“Did you?” she asked, looking extremely hopeful.
“No,” Sebastian said. “We did not.”
Eleven
rudence awoke abruptly, aware that something was wrong. This was the first night she and Sebastian had gotten to sleep before dawn. The combination of the demands of their busy social life and Sebastian’s lovemaking had somehow combined to keep her awake all night every night since her marriage. She got the feeling that Sebastian was accustomed to staying up all night. He seemed in the habit of not going to bed until after dawn.
Prudence had begun to wonder if she would ever be able to return to a normal schedule, one that involved going to bed at a decent hour and getting up early in the mornings. Perhaps now that she had married Sebastian she would be obliged to adapt to Town ways. The thought of being up all night for the rest of her life was daunting.
She lay still for a moment. Ghostly remnants of a dream drifted through her mind. She concentrated, but could not quite catch them. She thought she recalled black drapes blowing in front of a window that opened out onto an endless night. But the image vanished almost at once.
Then she realized that she was alone in the big bed. She turned on the pillow.
“Sebastian?”
“I’m here, Prue.”
She glanced toward the window and saw the large but rather fuzzy shape of him standing there. He had his back to her, one hand braced against the sill. Prudence sat up against the pillows and reached for her spectacles.
When she fumbled them into place on her nose she saw that Sebastian had put on his black dressing gown. He looked more like a Fallen Angel than ever as he stood there gazing out into the night-darkened gardens. Lucifer was sitting on the windowsill next to Sebastian. The cat was as intent on the night as Sebastian was.
“Are you having difficulty sleeping?” she asked softly as she lit the candle by the bed.
“I never sleep before dawn.”
“Oh. Then there is nothing wrong?”
“No.” His voice was dark and brooding. “Go back to sleep, Prue.”
Prudence ignored the instruction. She drew her knees up under the bedclothes and wrapped her arms around them. “You may as well tell me what you are thinking about. I am unlikely to go back to sleep with you standing there staring out the window like that. It makes me uneasy.”
Sebastian stroked Lucifer. “I’m sorry that I’m keeping you from your sleep.”
She smiled. “Well, you are, so you had best tell me what it is that you are contemplating so intently. Otherwise I shall never get back to sleep.”
He glanced at her, momentarily amused. “I believe you mean that.”
“I do mean it.” Prudence rested her chin on her knees. “You are contemplating the investigation, are you not?”
“Yes.”
“I thought that might be it.” Prudence hesitated. “I suspect you are thinking about Jeremy’s snuffbox. You are no doubt trying to figure out why it was in that chamber.”
“I have begun to wonder lately if you have developed a talent for reading my mind.”
“As you once observed, my lord, we are very much alike in our thinking processes.”
“Yes.” Sebastian stroked Lucifer in silence for a moment. “It puzzles me,” he said at last.
Prudence knew without being told that he had leaped back to the original topic. “Jeremy’s connection to the investigation? I agree with you. It is very puzzling.”
She and Sebastian had discussed the matter at length after the ball. Sebastian had told her about his confrontation with Jeremy and of how Jeremy had denied any knowledge of the black chamber.
“I made some inquiries earlier this evening. It seems my cousin is not one of Curling’s close friends. That weekend that Jeremy spent at the castle was the only time he had ever been there.”
“Who told you that?” Prudence asked. “Jeremy?”
“No, a man named Durham who is in the habit of regularly attending Curling’s house parties. He’s a professional hanger-on who maintains a presence in Society by making himself amusing and agreeable. You know the sort.”
Prudence smiled ruefully at Sebastian’s obvious contempt. “I suppose poor Mr. Durham’s role in the polite world is rather like that of an Original such as myself. People tolerate us as long as we are amusing.”
Sebastian turned his head swiftly. His eyes gleamed fiercely in the shadows. “You, madam, are now the Countess of Angelstone. Do not ever forget it. You do not exist to amuse and entertain Society. Quite the contrary. Society exists to amuse and entertain you.”
Prudence blinked at the controlled violence of his response to what she had intended only as a small jest. “An interesting concept, my lord. I shall consider it more closely some other time. For now, let us return to the matter of your cousin Jeremy.”
“The problem,” Sebastian said slowly, “is that there is nothing to which one may return. We know nothing else yet except that Jeremy was at the castle when Ringcross died and that it was his snuffbox that we found in that damn chamber.”
“Along with the gold button.”
Sebastian tapped one finger slowly on the windowsill. “Yes. I have not yet started my inquiries in that direction. It might prove interesting to see what we learn about the button.”
Prudence studied him for a moment. “Do you think
your cousin lied to you when he claimed he had never been in that black chamber?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you concerned that he may actually be involved in Ringcross’s death?” Prudence asked.
“I think the coincidence of that snuffbox being in that black chamber is a bit hard to dismiss out of hand. My instincts tell me there is some connection.”
“Coincidences do happen, Sebastian.”
“I’m aware of that, but they don’t happen often and it has been my experience that they rarely occur at all in an investigation of this sort.”
Prudence considered the matter for a minute. “I do not know him well, but from what I have seen of your cousin, I would have a hard time envisioning him as a murderer. He seems to be very much a gentleman.”
Sebastian stared out into the fog-bound night. “Any man can be driven to murder if there is sufficient motivation. A gentleman may kill as easily as the next man.”
“But what on earth could the motivation be in this case? Why would Jeremy want to kill Ringcross?”
“I don’t know. There are a number of questions to be answered. Among other things we must learn if there was any connection between Jeremy and Ringcross.”
“You seem hesitant, Sebastian. What is wrong?”
He glanced back over his shoulder. “The question I am asking myself tonight is whether or not I wish to continue this investigation.”
“I thought that might be it,” Prudence said sympathetically. “I can certainly comprehend your reluctance to investigate a member of your own family.”
Sebastian’s mouth curved humorlessly. “Do not mistake me, madam. It is no concern of mine if Jeremy gets himself arrested for murder.”
Prudence was shocked. “How can you say that? He is your cousin.”
“So? Do you think that the scandal involved in having a Fleetwood arrested would bother me? Not bloody likely. It might be rather amusing.”
“Sebastian, we’re talking about murder here.”
“Yes, we are, are we not?” Sebastian’s smile could only be described as feral “It would be interesting to watch that bitch Drucilla and the rest of my charming relatives get a taste of Society’s brutal tongues.”
“Sebastian, that kind of gossip would devastate that side of the family.”
“Quite possibly. If Jeremy is arrested for murder, his mother would no doubt be banished from the ton. Society would turn its back on her just as it turned its back on my parents. It would be a most appropriate sort of justice.”
Prudence shivered. “You cannot mean that.”
“You think not?” The gold band on Sebastian’s finger glinted in the candlelight as he continued to pet Lucifer.
“You are the head of the family, Sebastian,” Prudence said very steadily. “You will do whatever is necessary to protect it.”
He reached for her without any warning. He caught hold of her shoulders and held her still in front of him. “This family,” he said through set teeth, “consists of you and me and whatever children we may be fortunate enough to have. I do not give a damn if all of the rest of those incredibly boring Fleetwoods hang.”
“You cannot mean that. One cannot dismiss one’s relatives simply because they are unpleasant or insufficiently amusing.”
“I assure you that the Fleetwoods had no difficulty at all dismissing my parents out of hand.”
Prudence framed his hard face between her palms. “Is it revenge you seek, then, my lord? If that is the case, why have you not already taken it?”
Sebastian’s hands tightened on her. “You think I have not dreamed of doing so?”
“I don’t understand. Your friend Mr. Sutton explained to me that you have it within your power to cut off funds to the rest of the family or even to get them all banished from Society. If you feel so strongly about punishing the rest of the Fleetwoods, why did you not exercise your power over them when you first came into the title?”
Sebastian’s eyes gleamed. “Do not doubt for one instant that I will exercise all of the power I hold over my relatives if they ever push me too far. But until then they are safe, although they do not know it.”
“Why are they safe?”
“Because I am bound by a promise. A promise I made to my mother as she lay dying.”
Prudence was stricken. “I thought your parents and brother were killed in that fall of rock you told me about.”
“I received word early in the evening of what had happened up in the mountains.” Sebastian’s voice was very distant. “I took a group of men from the village and went in search of my family. We reached the pass at midnight. We set up lanterns and started to dig through the fallen rocks and debris.”
“Dear God, Sebastian.”
“It was so cold, Prue. And there was a heavy fog. I will never forget the damned fog. We found them just before dawn. My brother first. Then my father. They were both dead. My mother was still barely alive. She lived until sunrise.”
“I am so sorry,” Prudence whispered. “I did not mean to resurrect such tragic memories.”
“You may as well hear it all now. I have told no other living soul that the Fleetwoods are safe from me because with her dying breath my mother pleaded their cause.”
“Your mother asked you not to take revenge against them?”
“She knew that someday I would inherit the title. And she guessed that when I did, I would use the power it would give me to punish the rest of the family for what they had done to my father and to her. She did not want that to happen. She said the family had been torn apart long enough.”
“Your mother sounds as if she was a very kind and compassionate woman.”
“She was. But I am neither kind nor compassionate and I confess there have been times when the temptation to ruin the Fleetwoods in a variety of interesting ways has been almost irresistible.”
Prudence searched his grim face. “I can imagine.”
“Unfortunately, the oath J gave my mother has restrained me as effectively as an iron chain. ‘Give me your word of honor that you will not cause the Fleetwoods any harm for what they did to us,’ she said. She was dying. So I gave her my word. At the time it did not seem such a great thing. I had other, more important vengeance on my mind.”
“What other vengeance?”
Sebastian’s face was set in stark, inscrutable lines. “My only goal that day was to find the bandits who had been responsible for the rockfall. I was not thinking about Fleet-woods when I buried my family in those damn mountains. I was thinking about slitting the throats of those who had killed them.”
Prudence stared at him. “You went after the bandits yourself?”
“I took some of the men from the village with me. They were willing to help. They had suffered enough from the bandits, themselves. What they had lacked was a leader who could provide a plan of action.”
“You provided the leadership and the plan?”
“Yes.” Sebastian moved away from her. He went back to the window and stared out into the darkness. “It took me less than a week to come up with a way to lure the bandits into the trap. They all perished in it, every last one of them. I killed their leader myself.”
“Oh, Sebastian.”
His hand clenched the edge of the windowsill. “I told him precisely why he was dying as he lay bleeding to death at my feet.”
Prudence went over to Sebastian and wrapped her arms around him from behind. She leaned her head against his shoulder. “It was not your fault. Your father was an explorer. Journeys in wild lands involve great risks.”
Sebastian said nothing.
“It is not your fault that he took that mountain pass, Sebastian. Your father was an experienced traveler. He chose to cross those mountains. He obviously assumed it was safe to do so. It was your father who made the tragic mistake, not you.”
Sebastian still did not respond.
Prudence pressed herself closer to him. It seemed to her that he felt very cold. She had no more w
ords. All she could do was share her warmth with him.
She held him tightly for a long time.
After a while she was aware that some of the tension had left Sebastian. He touched one of her hands that was clasped around his waist.
“Now you know the reason why I have never taken real vengeance against the Fleetwoods,” he said quietly.
“I see. But Sebastian, what will you do about the investigation? Surely you will not walk away from it.”
“No,” he said. “I admit that I am curious now. I want to learn the answers.”
“I knew it,” Prudence said with satisfaction. “I knew you could not just abandon the case.”
“But I have not yet decided what I will do with the answers that I discover,” he added softly.
“Sebastian”
“Calm yourself, Prue. I will not turn the evidence against Jeremy over to Bow Street. That would be a violation of my oath to my mother. But neither am I under any obligation to protect Jeremy if Bow Street discovers its own evidence.”
Prudence eyed him uneasily. “This sounds like another of your cat-and-mouse games that everyone says you enjoy playing with the Fleet woods.”
“I only play such games when I am excessively bored,” Sebastian said. “Believe it or not, most of the time I have more interesting things to do than to go about baiting Fleet-woods.”
Prudence shook her head. “Sebastian, you should be ashamed of yourself.”
“No lectures, madam.” He turned around and touched her lips with a warning finger. “I am in no mood to listen to any of your sermons on responsibility and mature behavior.”
“What if I am inclined to give you such a sermon?”
“Then I shall simply have to find a way to silence you.” He drew her hand to his mouth and kissed the inside of her wrist. His eyes did not leave hers. “I’m certain I’ll think of some suitable method.”
“Sebastian, I am trying to have a serious discussion here.” Prudence could already feel the liquid warmth coiling inside her. She snatched her hand out of his grasp. “Do you intend to spend the rest of your life tormenting the Fleet-woods whenever you have nothing better to do?”