The footsteps kept coming, pounding up toward her. With a great act of will she opened her eyes and saw that one of her hands and her entire dress was covered in sticky brown blood. Then she looked behind her and saw Justin’s face emerge from the stairs below.
She shook her head, struggling to keep the darkness at bay. Just a little longer, she told herself. Clutching her side, she stumbled to her feet and up the remaining ten stairs. She threw herself into the nave of the church, reeling into the crowds like a pilgrim who has journeyed without food or water, and then collapsed. She lay on her back, gasping, waiting for the darkness to come and take her, waiting to feel Justin’s hand close around her leg, willing her eyes to stay open just until it happened, just to know. And then a miracle occurred.
From out of nowhere, Miles appeared, golden and smiling and so beautiful he looked like an angel. She knew she was mad at him, but at that moment she felt nothing but supreme joy at seeing him, at feeling him bend toward her, feeling his arms around her. “Justin,” she panted as he lifted her into his arms. “Must get Justin.” Then the darkness took over and she was gone.
“Are you sure she is all right?” Miles demanded for the thirtieth time as the clock in his bedchamber showed five in the evening. They had put Clio to bed six hours earlier and she still had not awoken.
Bianca, Ian’s wife and Miles’s cousin by marriage, exchanged a look with Corin, then pasted on her most compassionate expression. “Yes, Miles. She will be fine,” she replied, using the exact same words she had used all thirty other times. “If you do not trust me, you may call in another physician.”
Miles tried to smile but ended up grimacing. “Of course I trust you. You are the world expert on female medicine. She could not be in better hands. I am just worried.”
“I know,” Bianca assured him, also for the thirtieth time. “But you do not need to be. You found her in time. You saved her life. She will be fine.”
Corin decided to change the subject. “How is your other patient, ma’am? Doctor LaForge.”
Bianca answered animatedly, grateful for the respite. “He is not really my patient. He seems to have some familiarity with medicines on his own and is looking after himself, but I hear he is much better today. Almost miraculously so. And actually, I was surprised because—”
Miles allowed his mind to drift. He hadn’t saved Clio, not really. It had been Miles’s idea, but Toast was the one who found her. It was the monkey that had led them through the city to Saint Paul’s, following Clio’s scent. Recalling that procession—Inigo on his shoulders to follow Toast’s every movement through the crowd, the Triumverate panting behind to keep up—almost brought a smile to Miles’s lips. But only almost. He would save the smiling for when Clio’s eyes opened again.
“She really will be okay?” he demanded again then, interrupting Bianca. Before she could express the annoyance that showed in her eyes, Miles was apologizing. “I’m sorry, I do trust you. It’s just—” He paused, then resumed in a different voice. “I was wondering about something, Bianca. It is not really necessary for you to tell Ian and the rest of my cousins about this visit, is it? About Clio—I mean, Lady Thornton—being here?”
Corin made a strange noise. Bianca bit her lip and she looked at Miles with wide open, innocent eyes. “Of course not. And you will be pleased to know they do not suspect a thing. The sight of you whistling in the corridors, smiling spontaneously and for no reason, and occasionally having your steps followed by a small monkey has not come to their attention at all.”
Miles stared at her. “They know?”
“Know? No, not exactly. But they are suspicious. You have not exactly been, ah, normal for the past few days.”
A low moaning sound came from the bedroom behind them, and as if in confirmation of her words Miles brushed the hair off his forehead, sprinted into the chamber, and nearly leaped to the bedside, followed distantly by an amused Bianca.
“Clio?” he asked tenderly. “Clio are you awake? Are you all right? Can you hear me?”
Clio’s eyes fluttered open. For a moment a smile crossed her lips. Then, abruptly, it left and she pushed herself up on one arm. “Pall,” she said, her eyes flashing.
“Paul?” Having Justin’s name be the first—and last—words on her lips after her harrowing experience had been hard enough for Miles, but hearing this other man’s now, the first words when she awoke, was worse. “Who is Paul?” he asked in a strained voice.
“That is what you told Justin I did. Pall. Bore you. Is that why you hauled me back here? To bore you more?”
Behind them, Bianca inched out of the room, not even daring to close the door for fear of drawing attention to her presence.
“Clio there are many things I could say about you, but I could never say you bored me.” Miles felt something tense inside of him. “And if you respect Justin so much, why don’t you go to Newgate and be with him? I will call my coach for you at once.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me so you can visit Lady Starrat?”
“Lady Starrat?”
“Where did you leave her when you came to get me? At home? In bed?”
Miles frowned. “Yes, actually. She is dead.”
“I guess I am not surprised after the night she had.”
“What do you mean?”
“There is no reason to lie to me anymore,” Clio said, trying to look worldly. “I am not as needy of protection as you might think.”
“Ah. So you know.”
“Yes. I know all about it.”
“I was going to tell you in a little while.”
“Really? Why?” Clio waved an airy, unconcerned hand. She hoped he did not see it trembling. “What difference could it possibly make to me?”
“I am glad you feel that way. I thought you would be upset.”
“Upset? Upset to learn that she had been stung?”
Miles cleared his throat. “I think pricked would be the more accurate verb.”
“I agree,” Clio hissed in an offhanded way. Then she took a deep breath. And began to cry.
Miles reached for her but she pulled away. “You are upset. But you know, you had nothing to do with it.”
Clio wiped the tears from her face with the corner of the sheet. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“Yes.” Miles was confused.
“Is it your way of saying that I am naturally inadequate and there is nothing I can do about it?”
“Clio, there is nothing inadequate about you.” He paused, then added, “I think you are stupendous.”
Clio goggled at him. “You have the audacity, after everything with Lady Starrat, to say that to me?”
Miles held her shoulders and looked right at her. “Clio, Lady Starrat is dead.”
“My God you are arrogant,” Clio said, shaking his hands off. “There is no need to brag about your prowess. You already said that once.”
“Yes, but I don’t think you understand.”
“I understand everything. I saw you with her last night.”
Miles suddenly went very still. “What did you see last night?”
“I saw you getting ready to sting Lady Starrat with your pricker. Or prick her with your stinger. Whichever you prefer.”
Under other circumstances, Miles could see that this might be funny. Very funny. But the hair at the nape of his neck was standing on end. “You saw me? With Lady Starrat? Where?”
“Here. Or rather, there.” Clio pointed through the open doorway into the other room. “In one of the leather chairs.” Clio shuddered at the memory. “Shall I describe it to you?”
“I think you had better,” Miles said. The grim seriousness in his voice dissipated some of Clio’s anger.
“You were lying in the chair, or perhaps it is better to say you were sprawled, and Lady Starrat was astride you.”
“Was I clothed?”
“Yes. But while she sat astride you, she pulled up your shirt and started massaging your chest and talk
ing about your stinger. It was clear that you would be unclad soon.”
Miles cleared his throat. “My stinger?”
“Yes. And she called you her big wasp and said she would make it so you could not sting again. Very charming. And very apt.”
Miles seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, then he pinned Clio with his gaze. “Are you certain? Are you certain that she pulled up my shirt? And called me a wasp?”
“My lord, I have rarely been more certain of anything in my life.” Or in more pain than I was at that moment, Clio thought to herself.
“This is bad.” Miles looked over his shoulder and saw Corin silhouetted in the doorway. “Did you hear that?”
Corin nodded and his expression was even more grim that Miles’s.
Clio looked from one to the other with confusion, and then a scowl. “What are you two talking about? It was clear that you had been having an affair with Lady Starrat for some time. I am sorry I stumbled across it but there is no reason to act so distraught. If you are worried that I will tell Mariana, I promise nothing is less likely.”
Miles turned back to her, and his expression was deeply earnest. “Clio, I have never had an affair with Lady Starrat. You are the first woman I have touched in over two years, and the only one I want to touch ever again. Last night I passed out in that chair after drinking ten—”
“Twelve,” Corin corrected.
“—carafes of wine. Whatever happened, whatever you saw, took place entirely without my knowledge.”
Clio looked down. “It is not good to drink so much,” she said in a small voice.
“I only did it because I was afraid I had lost you.”
But you will lose me. In four and a half days, Clio thought to herself. Then she said, “Why would Lady Starrat come to your apartment and behave, ah, that way?”
Miles looked from Clio to Corin. Corin hesitated, then nodded his head. “Because she was working for someone who wanted to kill me, Miles said.”
Clio’s eyes got large. “The vampire?”
“No. Someone else. Someone who, I surmise, had never seen my face but had seen my body and was trying to identify me by the scar on my stomach.” Someone who had known about the rendezvous at the bathhouse. Someone who had seen all the Arboretti go in at the appointed time and who had sent a very clever spy to learn which of them possessed a scar on his stomach. “I suspect that was what she was doing the other night, in the library, with Sebastian.”
Clio frowned. “But why?”
“The less you know about this right now, the better.” Miles saw that she was going to protest, and rushed on. “This has absolutely nothing to do with our investigation, I swear to you. And one day, I will explain it all. For now, I only hope that she died before she was able to make her report.”
“What do you mean, she died?”
Miles swallowed hard. “Clio, another body was found this morning. Another of the vampire’s victims. It was Lady Starrat.”
The color left Clio’s face.
“I assumed that you were at home last night but now it seems you had come here. Did you go back to Which House afterwards?”
“I don’t know,” Clio said, looking at her hands. “I have no idea of what I did.”
Or what I am.
Miles turned from her and began issuing orders. “Corin, send a messenger to Which House and find out when Lady Thornton returned there last night. Then, go to Newgate and learn everything you can about the visitors to our agent’s cell. I want you to handle this yourself. I’ll await your return here with Lady Thornton and then go to the ball when you get back.” Corin was already leaving when Miles’s voice at his back stopped him. “Wait, Corin.” Miles turned to Clio. “Do those arrangements suit you? Do you have any better ideas, or different errands to send Corin on? Can you think of anything I am missing?”
Clio felt color rising in her cheeks. “Are you really asking me for my opinion? The opinion of a woman who you are holding prisoner and who even the Special Commissioner deems useless? Or is this some sort of trap so you can laugh at me?”
“I have been a fool, Clio,” Miles admitted, “but I know when to stop. I know that without you the Special Commissioner would not have solved the majority of his recent cases, and I suspect that without your help I won’t solve this one. Is there anything we should be doing that we haven’t?”
Corin left the room, shaking his head as he entered the service corridor. He should have gone right, toward the kitchen and the stables to order one of the footmen who waited there to go to Which House and to choose a mount for his ride to Newgate, but instead, he turned left. He would see to it that all of Three’s orders were carried out. Just as soon as he had taken care of a little errand of his own.
Chapter Seventeen
“Why don’t you just lie down an’ I’ll play with Toast,” Corin suggested with a sigh. He shifted uneasily in his chair next to the bed.
“What?” Clio looked up with surprise. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve been waiting these eighteen hours for you to make your move, my lady,” Corin explained. “You’d think you were planning a military campaign not playing a game of backgammon, and that not even for money.”
Clio tried a smile. “I’m sorry, I’m a bit distracted.” She paused, biting her lip. Then she looked up. “You really should have seen him rescuing me, Corin. He was incredible.”
“So you’ve said,” Corin replied wryly. “About a dozen times.”
There was a long silence, and then Clio asked in a voice she hoped was neutral, “Do you plan to stay on here after the wedding?”
Corin shrugged. “Course. Reckon the viscount will need me more than ever after that. Going to earn my place in heaven by sticking by him.”
Clio nodded to herself and cleared her throat. “Would it be possible, do you think, maybe, from time to time, for you to write to me and tell me how he is? Just so I could know?”
Corin eyed her closely. “Aye. Reckon I could do that. If you really want me to.”
Clio pressed her lips together and nodded vehemently. She felt as though her throat was closing up.
“Lady Thornton, may I ask you a question?” Corin said.
“Of course.” It came out as more of a whisper than a statement.
“Seeing how it’s my job to protect His Lordship, would you mind telling me what exactly your intentions are toward him?”
Clio stared at the manservant. “My intentions?”
“Aye.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, from what I know of your history, you are not one to go casually having an affair, and yet here you are with His Lordship. I’d say it’s rather suspicious.”
Clio’s mind flashed from sadness to outrage. “Just what are you implying?”
“Well, His Lordship is a very wealthy man. And you are a woman with many financial commitments.”
Clio’s mouth opened and closed. “You think that I am here for the viscount’s money?”
“Could be. And no one would blame you. In fact, I’ve been told to offer you ten thousand pounds.”
“For what?” Clio had to clench her hands to keep them from shaking.
“For your departure. You see, it has been suggested that you might be doing this just to interfere with His Lordship’s wedding to your cousin. And there are those who have a hefty investment in seeing that go forward. So they were thinking, what if you just left?”
Clio struggled to keep her hiccups at bay. “You wrong me, sir, with your accusations, and your filthy offers. Do you remember how I said I was sorry you hurt your head bending over to get my spoon the other night?”
“Yes,” Corin replied, nodding.
“Well, I am not. In fact, I wish I had a platter here right now so I could hit you over the head myself.”
The air crackled with tension for a moment, and then Corin smiled widely. “I was just checking. I had to be sure, you know. I don’t w
ant to see Miles get hurt again.”
“You mean—you mean you said all that just to test me?”
“Aye.”
“You could just have asked me. There was no reason to insult me like that.”
“There certainly was. If your plan was to interfere, or make some money, you would have been surprised by my offer, and possibly pleased, but not insulted. Your being insulted is a credit to you.”
“Do you remember, before, when I said I wished I had a platter to hit you over the head with?” Clio asked sweetly, but her eyes were narrowed. When Corin nodded, she went on. “I was wrong. I wish I had a hundred platters. Actually, make that a thousand.”
“A thousand what?” a voice asked from the threshold of the bedroom.
Corin and Clio both jumped. “You might try entering a room like a gentleman, Thr—Your Lordship, when there is a lady present,” Corin rebuked him as Miles strode toward the bed. “How long had you been there eavesdropping on us?”
“Not long, why? Did I miss something good? What does Clio want a thousand of?”
“Platters,” Clio explained in a strangely tight voice. He was dressed from head to foot in black, which exaggerated every fabulous angle of his body. The sight rendered her entirely breathless.
“That’s right, platters to hit me over the head with,” Corin stepped in to explain, a little too eagerly. “I was cheating at backgammon again.”
Miles looked at Clio. “Is that the problem?”
She just nodded, glad for the obfuscation and still too stunned to speak.
“Very well. Corin, as punishment for your ungallant behavior, I order you to go and get a thousand platters for Lady Thornton. Heavy ones. And don’t hurry. We won’t be needing you any more tonight.” Miles was speaking to his manservant but he was looking at Clio. Her body was tingling all over.