What Happens in Piccadilly Page 18
The voice was low and gruff, masculine, unrefined. It was the voice of a man from the streets. A hireling, no doubt.
“Don’t bloody know, now do I?” the second man replied. His voice was rougher still, with a thick cockney accent, and he coughed after uttering his churlish reply.
“Bloke said she was ’ere!”
“The bloke was clearly wrong, John. Perhaps this ain’t ’er room… or perhaps she slipped out and is warming someone else’s bed instead!”
The clinking of crockery told her that her dinner was being raided.
“Dinner is cold and untouched,” the man he’d called John stated, his words muffled as he consumed food that had been intended for her.
“It was, anyway. You bloody idiot! Now she’ll now we was ’ere!”
“Don’t matter no way, does it, ’enry? If we find ’er, someone will know for certain we was,” John said. There was a hint of enjoyment at that, a veiled threat in those words that indicated he would have undertaken whatever task had been assigned to them with great enthusiasm.
“Bloody ’ell,” Henry muttered.
“We could check the other rooms,” John suggested hopefully.
“And wake up a passel of screaming girls? I won’t swing cause you fancy seeing a bunch of little girls in nightclothes! No. We’ll watch the ’ouse and see if she comes out in the morning!”
“What then?”
Henry let out a long-suffering sigh, as if he were beyond frustrated with his compatriot who was equal parts brutal and stupid. “Then we nab ’er on the way to ’er nabob employer’s ’ouse!”
“She’s gotta be ’ere somewhere,” the first man insisted.
They both went utterly silent as a door closed somewhere else in the house. Whether it was one of the children going to the water closet or Effie closing everything up for the night, the men seemed very aware of their threat of discovery. When no alarm sounded and the house settled once more into the routine silence of night, the wiser of the two spoke. “We’re going. Not paying us enough to swing for it, is ’e?”
“But ’e is paying us,” the other man insisted. “And we needs the money!”
“The deal was, find ’er in ’er bed, slit ’er bloody throat from ear to ear before she could even scream and be gone. If she’s awake, if she struggles, we’ll wake the entire ’ouse. If we go ’unting for ’er, the watch’ll be on us. And you ’eard ’im! Nothing is to lead back to ’im. I say better to not do it than do it wrong and get pinched. No. We wait.”
The two men crept out into the corridor. She could hear their footfalls, faint on the carpet that ran down the length of the corridor until they faded into the night. Even then, she exhaled slowly, her breath coming out as the faintest whisper. It sounded like cannon fire to her ears.
Callie stayed precisely where she was. She dared not move nor even breathe deeply for fear that they might not really be gone. A dozen scenarios played in her head—they were trying to lure her out, they’d change their minds and come back, the one man who’d been so eager to see the task done would return alone. The fear was crippling in a way nothing else ever had been. It left her trembling, with silent tears sliding down her cheeks and a bone-deep cold that she feared would never go away. Even when the bright light of day began to filter into the room, she didn’t move. It wasn’t until Effie knocked on the door and strode inside that she even made a sound.
“Callie, what is it? What’s happened?”
Slowly, Callie turned and looked back at her. “I think Mr. Burney has given us away. Two men came in the night—” She broke off, unable to finish.
Effie’s face paled and she rushed forward. “Did they hurt you?”
“They didn’t find me. I’d fallen asleep in the chair and I suppose they must have made a noise. I awoke before they entered and I hid myself here as best as I could. They said… they said they meant to find me asleep and slit my throat so I wouldn’t have a chance to scream.”
Effie hugged her tightly. “We will employ guards. You will not be alone ever… even if I must stand over you at night myself.”
And what would stop them from hurting Effie? Nothing. If they grew desperate enough, would it matter that they were breaking into a house full of children? No. Men as ruthless as those, men who clearly had no qualms about doing murder, would not hesitate because their victims were young. It was a risk she would not and could not let Effie take.
“I don’t think I can stay here, Effie. I can’t put you in danger. I certainly can’t put this house full of young women in such jeopardy. These are the kind of men who take pleasure in hurting others. They must see me leave this house and they must see that I do not mean to return to it,” Callie stated firmly. “Send for the earl.”
Effie shook her head. “My darling, you cannot reside in a bachelor household.”
“I don’t mean to,” Callie replied. “He mentioned going to the country… and that’s what I will do. He can send me to one of his country estates for a bit until all this is settled.”
“And the children?”
Callie’s lip trembled. “I’ll have to leave them. I don’t want to. I pray they will understand. I can’t be near them and place them at risk.”
Effie stared at her for a moment. “I’ll send a message to the earl, but no decisions have yet been made, Callie. And I don’t believe he’ll send you off to fend for yourself at one of his homes in the country. He’s not that sort of man.”
“What other solution is there?” Callie demanded. “My presence puts everyone in danger.”
Effie hugged her. “He’ll come up with something, I’m sure.”
*
Winn had only just returned home. It was dawn. He was exhausted. After making the circuit at the clubs, they’d haunted gaming hells and other nefarious places where they might find either Averston or Burney. That neither had been seen was cause for alarm. If Highcliff’s assertion that Averston was murdering the young men he had affairs with rather than risk exposure, Burney’s knowledge of the identity of the true heir to Averston’s fortune meant that he would be killed for certain. Who, after all, could pose a greater threat to him? Also, Burney’s willingness to dabble in blackmail made him a liability.
Exhausted, but his mind too chaotic for sleep, Winn retreated to his study once more. He’d only just taken a seat at his desk when his new butler, Foster, entered. “My lord, an urgent message has arrived regarding Miss St. James.”
Winn rose and took the missive from the silver salver it had been delivered upon. He broke the wax seal and read it. Then to be certain, he read it again. “Foster, have the maids start packing. Everything the children have and any items from the school room. And have my valet pack for me, as well. We’ll be leaving the city.”
“When, my lord? You can’t mean today!”
“I certainly do,” Winn answered. “We haven’t time to waste, unfortunately. I shall return in an hour or so… I want everything in readiness. Children will be up and dressed and bags will be loaded into the carriages and carts for the journey… and your aunt, Mrs. Marler, will accompany us for the sake of propriety as Miss St. James shall be with us, as well.”
Foster frowned and looked very concerned. “Yes, my lord. I’ll see it done.”
Winn nodded and then immediately left the house, heading once more for the Darrow School. Fear, anger, fury at what might have happened, indignation that Burney had ignored his warnings—all of that was driving him. Long strides ate up the distance and early as it was, there was little traffic on foot or otherwise to impede his progress. He reached the school in record time. He didn’t have to battle his way in either. Miss Euphemia Darrow opened the door herself and ushered him inside, leading him to a small drawing room he’d not previously entered.
“Where is she?”
“She is upstairs, Lord Montgomery,” Miss Darrow replied. “Before you see her, you must know that she means to ask for sanctuary at one of your country houses… without you or the children
. Callie feels her presence is a danger to you all and she’s determined to be foolishly noble about the whole thing.”
“What happened, precisely?” Winn asked.
Miss Darrow moved to the settee and sank down heavily upon it. “Two men broke into the house last night. Callie had been upset and had fallen asleep in her chair in her room and awoke when they entered. Thankfully, she was well concealed from them there. Had she actually been in her bed, they would have—she overheard them say they meant to slit her throat from ear to ear while she slept, so that no sound would be made and no one would be alerted to their crime.”
His heart stuttered in his chest, the beat going erratic for a moment. When he could form the words, he asked, “How did they get in?”
Effie sighed. “A door in the dining room, it faced the back garden. It was found unlocked this morning. They must have cut through the mews and made their way in through the garden gate.”
“Highcliff needs to be told,” Winn said firmly. “I won’t ask what your relationship with the man is. It isn’t my place, but it’s clear he’s invested in your well-being and this… this cannot stand. What the Duke of Averston, or the dowager duchess, have put in motion will not simply stop because Callie is no longer present. Any hint that you or anyone else is aware of their actions could place you in harm’s way.”
Winn said nothing further as the door opened and Callie entered. Her face was pale and he could see violet shadows beneath her eyes, a testament to the fact that she’d not slept at all the night before.
“Have your bags packed,” Winn stated. “We’ll be leaving London within the hour.”
“Effie will provide another governess for the children so that their education does not suffer while I am away,” Callie offered.
“That is entirely unnecessary as the children are going with you… as am I,” Winn replied. “You are not simply going to one of my country estates to take your chances on your own. I will not simply leave you to whatever fate the Averstons have in store for you.”
Her lips pressed together in a firm line that displayed her disapproval of his response quite clearly. “I won’t endanger them—”
“They are in danger already. As am I. Do you think they will stop at eliminating only you, Calliope?” Winn demanded. “You may be the primary target at the moment, but we will all feel their wrath eventually.”
“Then what good will running do?” she asked.
“It will give us time. And an opportunity to summon the trustees of the family fortune to meet you and decide for themselves if you are the true heir,” Winn replied. “Our only option is to take the power from him and from his dragon of a grandmother.”
“There’s more, Lord Montgomery,” Miss Darrow said. “I spoke with Madame de Beauchamps. According to Madame de Beauchamps, Callie was not illegitimate at all. The former Duke of Averston and her mother married in secret at St. Clement Danes. While you and Lord Montgomery are safe in the countryside, Highcliff will help to procure the necessary proof of that… it will prevent anyone from challenging their decision once it is made.”
“Effie,” Callie said imploringly, “Explain to him why this cannot happen! I must think of the children!”
Miss Darrow rose and walked toward Callie, embracing her. “I cannot. There are many ways to hurt those children… and your absence is one of them. Trust Lord Montgomery to keep you safe and trust that Highcliff and I will do what is necessary here to end this threat once and for all. Please, Callie? Please!”
Chapter Seventeen
Highcliff stared at the body laid out on bank of the lake in St. James’ Park. He hadn’t known Charles Burney well, but he’d certainly known him well enough to recognize the man. Burney’s skin carried the grayish cast of a person who had been dead for some time, though having been in the water, Highcliff would be hard-pressed to say how long. But given that they hadn’t located Burney or Averston at any of the typical haunts for men of their standing and persuasion, it would require a bit of investigative work to pin down the man’s time of death.
“How did he die?” Highcliff asked.
The man standing beside him, rough-looking and wearing a dark coat, answered in a voice that still held a hint of cockney to it. “Strangled with his own neckcloth, he was.”
“How can you be certain it was his?”
“His is missing… found one discarded in the bushes down by the bridge. Stands to reason if we’ve got a corpse and with no neckcloth and a neckcloth with no owner, they’d likely go together, wouldn’t they?”
Highcliff rolled his eyes. “Ettinger, I’ve been up all bloody night long. How can you be certain the neckcloth was the murder weapon?”
“Wrinkles in the fabric… not an exact science. But I’ve never seen a neckcloth wrinkled in that fashion just from being tied. Looks as if it was wound about a man’s fists.” The Bow Street Runner held his closed fists out in front of him, about ten inches apart. “Not quite sure how a young strapping lad like that was overpowered by just one bloke though.”
“Drink,” Highcliff said. “If I had to guess, I’d say the victim had imbibed quite a bit of brandy or some other potent spirit.” Possibly laced with something else to further incapacitate him.
“You think he was drinking with the one what killed him?” Ettinger asked. “Maybe more than just drinking?”
“I’d say they were intimately acquainted,” Highcliff replied. “But let’s not bandy that about.”
“Just like the others, then?” Ettinger guessed. “Same man. Same untouchable fucking gent who gets away with murder just cause of his title?”
Highcliff rose. “It’ll be the last one. That I can swear to you. But let’s handle this discreetly, Ettinger. This young man has a mother and a sister who are still in society. In fact, the sister had her debut just the night before last. Extravagant affair. Financially, they’ll be ruined by it. But for a moment, she was the bell of the proverbial ball. Now this. Terrible, but not insurmountable. If any hint of the truth about the nature of his relationship with his murderer was to come out—”
“It won’t,” Ettinger stated. “I’ll see to it. But if there’s another one, Lord Highcliff, I don’t much care who asks me to keep my mouth shut. It has to end.”
Highcliff nodded in agreement. Ettinger was a good man with a good heart. He also had hammer-like fists and somewhat flexible methods. Even as a runner, he was often on the wrong side of the law but always for the right reasons. “I can promise you, Ettinger, there are changes coming… changes that the perpetrator of this crime will not be able to halt, nor will he be able to avoid them.”
“Fine. Then I’ll quash any rumors or whispers that might cause trouble,” the runner said. “But I’ll be letting the true powers that be in on all of this.”
The Hound. Ettinger served two masters and had for a very long time. “How long can you keep this up? One day he’ll ask you to do something at cross purposes to your employer’s,” Highcliff stated.
“Ask. He will ask, my lord, and I will refuse. Wouldn’t be the first time. We have an understanding, the Hound and I,” Ettinger said. “And I could ask the same of you… when will you give it all up and just be an idle gentleman as the world believes?”
“When I am as dead as our unfortunate friend here,” Highcliff replied. “Send word to his family… and send someone who will be kind to them, will you?”
“I’ll go myself. It’s on my way,” Ettinger replied.
Highcliff rose from where he’d crouched next to the corpse of Charles Burney. “Check in on the Darrow School. Since it appears you’re off to Jermyn Street, that is.”
“I’m not your errand boy, my lord.”
Highcliff grinned. “It’s related, I assure you. Ask if anything untoward has occurred.”
“And if it has?”
“Send for me,” Highcliff said. “At once. In the meantime, I’ll be running my own errands.”
*
It hadn’t taken her very long
to pack. While she did have some very nice things, they were small in number. Primarily because she refused to allow Effie to spend ridiculous sums of money on her. With all of her belongings packed into two valises, Callie paused to look around the room. It had been her home, her sanctuary. It had been the first place that had ever truly been hers and the first place where she’d felt safe. Even if they did manage to neutralize the threat from Averston, that feeling of security was gone forever. It wasn’t simply the room that had been violated, but her. For the rest of her life, she’d hear their menacing words as they discussed what they had planned to do to her. And all for something as low as money.
“Are you ready?”
Callie jumped. It wasn’t that she’d been lost in her thoughts, but her nerves were so jangled that everything seemed to set her off. Turning to face Effie who stood in the doorway, she replied, “No. I’m not. I’ll never be ready to leave here. What if I don’t come back?”
Effie stepped into the room an took Callie’s hand in hers. “My dear, the Earl of Montgomery will see you safe. Trust him to do so… I know that I do.”
“These people… the Duke of Averston and the dowager duchess… I’ve never even met them. And yet, I know they are completely evil. Their wickedness threatens everything and everyone I hold dear,” Callie mused. “How does a person become so terrible and heartless?”
“Some people are born that way, I think. The piece of ourselves that allows us to love one another, to have empathy for one another, it’s missing in some people, I think.”
“I think perhaps it was better not knowing who my family was,” Callie said.
“My dear, they are not your family. They are people to whom you happen to be related. It is not the same at all,” Effie said with a smile. “We are your family. And we always shall be.”
Callie could have cried with the gratitude she felt at that moment. It seemed that Effie always knew just what to say to her.
“Now,” Effie continued, “go to the country with your employer and the children.”