“No. I forbid it.” Sebastian raised the trapdoor and spoke softly to the coachman. “Drive to the end of the street and turn the corner. I shall get out briefly. If anything unusual occurs while I am gone, you are to drive Lady Angel-stone home at once. I shall find my own way home.”
“Aye, yer lordship.” The man spoke with the resigned voice of a servant who was accustomed to odd late-night forays and even odder instructions from a very odd master.
Prudence made one last attempt to change Sebastian’s mind. “This is most unfair of you, my lord.”
“It was your idea,” he reminded her. He removed his greatcoat. “Here, you had better take this. I might be gone for some time and I don’t want you taking a chill.”
“But I fully intended to accompany you,” Prudence said as she struggled into the greatcoat.
“I told you at the start that I would not allow it,” he said.
“You wouldn’t even be here now if I hadn’t thought of driving down Rowland Street.”
“You are quite right,” he said as the carriage came to a halt. “Nevertheless, this is as far as you go on this investigation.” He caught her face between his gloved hands and kissed her fiercely.
When he raised his head Prudence straightened her spectacles. She could hardly make out his face in the darkness, but she could definitely feel the controlled excitement in him.
“Sebastian, listen to me.”
“Be reasonable, Prue, you cannot possibly go running about in this fog dressed like that.”
“Do not dare use my gown as an excuse. The truth is, you don’t want me to have any fun. Admit it.”
His teeth flashed briefly in the shadows. “I shall return presently, my dear. Don’t leave the carriage.”
He opened the door, jumped down onto the pavement, and vanished almost instantly into the fog-shrouded night.
“Bloody hell,” Prudence muttered.
A moment later she opened the carriage door.
“Beggin’ yer pardon, ma’am, but where are ye goin’?” the coachman hissed in alarm. “I was instructed to keep an eye on ye. His lordship will have me head if ye don’t stay in the coach.”
“Do not concern yourself,” Prudence whispered reassuringly. “I shall speak to his lordship. He won’t blame you for this.”
“The hell he won’t. Please, ma’am, I beg ye on bended knee. Get back in the coach.”
“Try not to worry. I shall return soon.”
“I’m a dead man,” the coachman said sadly. “Always knew that when he married, his lordship would pick a female as bloody-minded as himself. Serves him right, suppose. But what’s goin’ to happen to me, I ask ye?”
“I shall see to it that your post is secure,” Prudence said softly. “Now I must be off.”
Prudence was grateful for Sebastian’s heavily caped coat as she made her way down the lane behind the row of town houses. She counted garden gates until she found the one that belonged to the house Sebastian had pointed out earlier.
She was not surprised to find the gate unlatched. Sebastian was only a few minutes ahead of her, after all. He had already come this way. What sent a chill of alarm through her was the realization that there was a light in one of the windows on the ground floor at the back of Oxenham’s house.
Someone was home.
Prudence hesitated, wondering why Sebastian had gone on into the garden knowing that the house was occupied. Then she reminded herself that he was perfectly capable of investigating a lady’s bedchamber while the lady herself was downstairs playing hostess to half the ton. Nor had he hesitated to explore the upper floor of Curling Castle while Curling’s guests traipsed about from bedchamber to bedchamber one floor below.
She ought not to be surprised that Sebastian had decided to take a closer look at Oxenham’s house in spite of the light in one window.
Emboldened by the realization that he had already gone ahead, Prudence opened the gate and stepped into the garden. She winced when she found the graveled path. She could feel every tiny pebble through the soles of her soft satin evening slippers.
Midway through the garden Prudence was forced to alter her course slightly due to a high hedge. She stepped around the corner of the prickly foliage and collided with a large, solid masculine chest. Strong arms tightened around her, crushing her face against a familiar shirt.
“Umph.”
“Damn it to hell.” Sebastian’s voice was very soft and very annoyed. “I had a hunch you wouldn’t follow orders. Don’t make a sound, do you understand?”
Prudence nodded her head frantically.
He released her cautiously. Prudence raised her face. She could just barely make out Sebastian’s irritated expression. “What are we going to do?” she asked in a voice that was even softer than his had been.
“You are going to stand right here while I take a closer look. Then we’re going to leave as quickly as possible.”
Sebastian moved away from her. Prudence watched anxiously as he made his way past the darkened windows of the ground floor. She saw his hand move once or twice and realized he was testing the windows to see if any were open.
She held her breath when he approached the one window through which light could be seen. Sebastian flattened himself against the wall and looked into the room from an angle.
He did not move for a long moment. Then he edged closer and studied the room from a slightly different angle.
Something was wrong, Prudence realized. She could sense it in the way Sebastian was standing. He was staring through the glass now, studying the scene inside very closely. Prudence took a cautious step forward. Sebastian did not notice. He was concentrating on whatever was inside the room.
Prudence watched in amazement as he reached out and opened the window. She darted toward him.
“Stay back,” Sebastian ordered softly as she approached him. “I mean it, Prue. Don’t follow me.”
“What are you doing? You can’t go inside. Someone is obviously home.”
“I know,” Sebastian said quietly. “Oxenham. But I do not believe he will notice that he has a visitor.”
Sebastian swung his leg over the windowsill and dropped lightly into the room.
Shocked in spite of herself at this fresh evidence of Sebastian’s outrageous boldness, Prudence hastened over to the window. She peered inside.
For an instant she could not comprehend what she was seeing. Then the sight registered. Prudence took an instinctive step back in horror.
A man lay sprawled facedown on the carpet. There was blood all over his head and more blood on the carpet beside him.
Fourteen
xenham had committed suicide. Either that or someone had gone to a great deal of trouble to make it appear that he had.
The pistol lay inches from the dead man’s hand. There was no evidence of a struggle.
Sebastian glanced quickly around the library. He could not stay long. He had to get Prudence out of the vicinity. But he wanted to find something that would convince him Oxenham had put the pistol to his own head and pulled the trigger.
Or something that would prove that he had not.
Gold gleamed on the carpet near Oxenham’s outflung hand. Sebastian edged closer, careful to stay clear of the blood. He glanced toward the window and saw Prudence watching him anxiously.
The gold object on the rug was a ring. He crouched down to get a closer look at it, wondering why it seemed familiar. Then he saw the elaborate letter F worked on the top. A Fleetwood ring, much like his own.
“Damnation.” Without stopping to think about it, he scooped up the ring and rose quickly to his feet.
He turned toward the window and hesitated once more. He needed to be certain it was Oxenham that lay in the pool of blood. It was impossible to see the man’s face from this angle. He steeled himself and stepped back toward the body.
“Don’t touch him,” Prudence whispered urgently. “Sebastian, we must get out of here.”
“I know.” Bu
t he could not leave until he was certain. Sebastian reached down, grasped the body by the shoulder, and turned the dead man over far enough to see what was left of his face.
It was definitely Oxenham.
Sebastian started to lower the limp corpse back into position. Gold gleamed once more, this time from the buttons of Oxenham’s waistcoat. Sebastian leaned down and saw the words The Princes of Virtue engraved on them.
He let Oxenham’s body fall back onto the carpet.
“For heaven’s sake, Sebastian, hurry,” Prudence whispered.
“I just want to take a quick look at his desk.”
He walked carefully across the carpet to the desk. There were a handful of papers scattered about on top. Sebastian glanced through them quickly, searching to see if the dead man had left a note.
There was no letter explaining the suicide, but someone had, indeed, left a message. Sebastian read it by the light of the dying lamp. It was short and to the point.
Lillian will be avenged.
Sebastian heard the voices from the front of the house at the same instant that Prudence did. The servants had returned.
“Sebastian, for God’s sake, get out of there.”
He picked up the note, shoved it into his pocket along with the Fleetwood ring, and ran for the window.
He vaulted over the sill, caught Prudence’s hand, and drew her swiftly toward the garden gate.
They reached the lane without incident. Sebastian glanced back over his shoulder and saw no signs of pursuit. He hurried Prudence toward the waiting carriage.
The coachman eyed his passengers with doleful resignation as they emerged out of the fog. “It weren’t my fault she took after ye, m’lord. I did me best.”
“Home,” Sebastian ordered. “We’ll discuss your duties later.”
“Aye, m’lord. Does this mean I’ve still got me job?”
“Your position is secure until you get us safely home.” Sebastian opened the carriage door and tossed Prudence inside. “After that, the matter is questionable.” He got into the cab behind Prudence and closed the door.
“You must not chastise the poor coachman. He did his best to follow your instructions,” Prudence said breathlessly.
“He has been with me long enough to know that when I give an order I expect it to be obeyed,” Sebastian said. “I pay the best wages in London and in return I demand that every member of my staff carry out my instructions to the letter. You could have been seen.”
“Do stop worrying, Sebastian. I am certain we were safe.” She struggled to extricate herself from the voluminous folds of the greatcoat. “It will most likely be quite some time before someone checks the library and finds Oxenham’s body.”
“Or no time at all.” Sebastian closed the curtains over the windows as the carriage rumbled forward. “Madam, in the future you will not disobey me.”
“You may lecture me later, my lord. Tell me what you found.”
He had only himself to blame for marrying a woman who shared his enthusiasm for investigation, Sebastian thought. He fumbled with one of the interior lamps until it flared to life. Then he lounged back in the seat and studied Prudence’s expressive face. Her eyes were bright with the excitement of the adventure they had just shared. It was difficult to scold her when he was still feeling the same thrill course through his own veins.
He removed the ring and the note from his pocket. Without a word he handed both to her. “I’m not sure yet what I found. By the by, Oxenham’s waistcoat was trimmed with buttons that had The Princes of Virtue engraved on them.”
“Fascinating.” Prudence studied the ring intently for a moment. “This ring is just like yours, my lord.”
“Yes.”
“What was it doing lying on the floor near Oxenham’s body?”
“An excellent question,” Sebastian said softly.
“And who is Lillian?”
Sebastian realized she was looking closely at the inside of the ring, not the note. “What do you mean?”
“The ring is inscribed on the inside.” Prudence held it closer to the lamp. “To Lillian with love.”
“Let me see that.” Sebastian plucked the ring out of her fingers and examined the inscription. “Who the devil is Lillian?”
“You have heard the name before?”
“Read the note,” he said.
Prudence glanced down at the sheet of foolscap on her lap. “Lillian will be avenged. Good grief, Sebastian, what on earth is going on?”
“I don’t know, but I am starting to wonder if Lillian is the name of the woman that mad old man at Curling Castle mentioned. The one he said had jumped from the tower room.”
“The ghost he thought had come back to carry out her curse?” Prudence nibbled thoughtfully on her lower lip. “Do you think the deaths of Ringcross and Oxenham have anything to do with the tale that he told us?”
“Perhaps.” Sebastian gazed at the ring on his palm, “It’s possible that someone who cared about the mysterious Lillian has decided that The Princes of Virtue were responsible for her death.”
Prudence stared at him. “Do you think her avenger is going after them one by one?”
“It looks that way.”
Prudence’s eyes rested on the ring. “Sebastian, you said that your ring is a family ring.”
“Rings such as this one have been worn by the Fleetwood men for five generations.” Sebastian thought of the day he had received his from his father. He had been told to wear it with pride. His father had explained that it was a symbol of his personal honor.
The opinion of the world does not matter, my son. All that matters is that you know in your heart that you have not stained your honor. Honor is a sacred trust and must be treated as such. A man can survive scandal and ruin and worse if he knows that his honor is safe.
Sebastian tightened his fingers around the ring.
“Do you think it possible that a Fleetwood gave that ring to Lillian?” Prudence asked.
“Yes, it’s possible.” More than possible, Sebastian thought. It was highly probable.
Prudence looked at him. “You’re thinking that it was Jeremy’s snuffbox we found at Curling Castle, aren’t you? You’re wondering if that ring also belongs to him.”
“Yes.”
“But Sebastian, I saw Jeremy earlier this evening. He was not wearing gloves and I seem to recall that he had a ring like that one on his finger.”
Sebastian looked at her. “It would not be difficult to have a ring such as this duplicated. Assuming one could afford the cost, it would be a simple matter for a good jeweler to create a copy.”
Prudence was silent for a long moment. “What do we do next? Are you going to start interviewing jewelers?”
“No.” Sebastian made his decision. “I think that I had better have another talk with my cousin. Jeremy’s name has come up once too often in the course of this investigation.”
“I agree,” Prudence said. “I shall help you conduct the interview.”
“I’m not so certain that would be a sound notion, madam.”
“It will be very useful to have two opinions of his reactions, don’t you agree?”
Sebastian hesitated. He would not mind having her observations on Jeremy. There was no denying Prudence was extremely perceptive. But it was equally true that she tended to be unpredictable, not to mention softhearted where family was concerned.
“Very well, Prue. You may listen while I talk to Jeremy. But you are not to interfere in any way, is that understood?”
Prudence smiled cheerfully. “Perfectly, my lord.”
Jeremy was shown into the library at eleven-thirty the next morning. Prudence’s heart went out to him the moment he appeared. His resentment at being summarily summoned by the head of the family was obvious.
“What the devil is this all about, Angelstone? I’ve got better things to do than respond to messages from you.”
Sebastian was seated behind the desk near the window. He had Lucifer dra
ped over one arm. He did not bother to rise. “The pleasure is mutual. Perhaps you would care to greet my wife in a civil fashion before you finish telling me what you think of me?”
Jeremy glanced across the room and saw Prudence standing near the tea tray. He turned a dull red. “Lady Angelstone.” He inclined his head stiffly. “Your pardon. Didn’t see you there. Good morning to you, madam.”
“Good morning, Mr. Fleetwood.” Prudence smiled. “Would you care for tea?”
Jeremy looked uncomfortable. He glanced at Sebastian. “I don’t know if I’ll have time.”
“You’ll have plenty of time to drink a cup of tea,” Sebastian assured him coldly. “Sit down, cousin.”
Jeremy took the teacup from Prudence. “Thank you, madam.” He stood waiting until Prudence had seated herself and then he lowered himself uneasily into a chair across from Sebastian.
“Well?” Jeremy inquired brusquely. “Let us get on with it, then. Why did you send for me, sir?”
Sebastian studied him for a long moment. Prudence suspected the silence was a deliberate act of intimidation. She was about to speak up when Sebastian moved. Without a word, he opened the desk drawer, took out the ring he had found in Oxenham’s library, and tossed it at Jeremy.
“What in blazes?” Jeremy caught the ring with an angry reflexive action. He glanced down at it.
Prudence could not miss the jolt of surprise that went through Jeremy when he realized what he held in his hand. She glanced at Sebastian and saw that he was watching his cousin very intently. There was no hint of cold amusement in Sebastian’s eyes this morning, only an unnervingly alert intelligence that gleamed like fire-heated gold.
“Damnation.” Jeremy looked up with an expression of wary confusion. “Where the devil did you get this?”
Sebastian stroked Lucifer very slowly. “Do you recognize it?”
“Yes, of course. It’s mine.” There was a strange edge in Jeremy’s voice. “I lost it about three years ago. I never mentioned it because I knew Mother would kick up a fuss. You know how she is about family traditions.”
“Yes.” Sebastian’s hand stilled on Lucifer. “I know.”