Blood Marriage (33 page)

Behind them the front door opened and Leo, Amanda and Mrs. Blakely came out of the house. The ladies had changed from mourning clothes into more practical traveling dresses in appropriately somber colors. 

"Thank you so much for, for..." Mrs. Blakely's face turned a bright red. 

Nicholas took pity on the woman. How did one take proper leave of a host who was suspected of having attacked and killed several people during your stay?

"You are always welcome in our home, Mrs. Blakely," he said, and bowed over the lady's hand.

Mrs. Blakely gave him a grateful smile. She embraced Elizabeth before taking Leo's arm and allowing him to escort her down the steps to the first of the two carriages.

"I wish you would come with us, Leo dear. It isn't safe here," Mrs. Blakely whispered once she believed she was too far away to be overheard.

Silently Nicholas agreed with her. He should send his friend home with his bride. But since the attack on Margaret, Leo had been keeping watch on Randall, freeing Nicholas to stalk a more dangerous predator. Not that he'd been terribly successful so far. Both Randall and the
diavol
had escaped his oversight more than once. Death had been the result. An echo of the overwhelming panic he'd felt at Grubner's wake when he'd realized Randall and the
diavol
had slipped away made his jaw clench. He'd believed Elizabeth and her mother would be safe with Katie, as long as he was with the killer. He'd been wrong and Amelia Smith was dead. 

Elizabeth and Amanda followed Leo and Mrs. Blakely down the steps, stopping a short distance from the carriage. A breeze tugged at Elizabeth's hat causing the black veil she'd worn to the funeral to slide off the brim and cover her face. Amanda reached up and pushed it back, then pressed her cheek against Elizabeth's cheek. Elizabeth made a short mewing sob and opened her arms to Amanda. She hugged the petite blonde as if she believed she might never see her again. Nicholas's gut ached.

"I still think I should stay." Amanda cast a worried look over her shoulder at her husband. 

Leo scowled and shook his head at her. He handed his mother-in-law into the waiting carriage. When Mrs. Blakely was settled, he extended his hand to Amanda. She ignored it.

"Well then," Amanda said brightly, "Elizabeth should come with Mother and me. If it isn't safe for the rest of the ladies, it isn't safe for her either." Amanda clasped both of Elizabeth's hands in hers. Her voice turned coaxing. "Please, Elizabeth. It would take only minutes to put some things in a bag. We could have a lovely visit in London while we wait for the men to sort things out here." 

"Elizabeth must stay with me," Nicholas said. He followed the runner down the stairs and planted himself between his wife and the nosy bastard. 

Amanda pushed her glasses up her small nose with one finger, her expression mutinous. "Well, I don't see why she can't--" 

"Get in the carriage, Amanda," Leo said. 

"Yes. Please, dear," Mrs. Blakely said from inside the carriage.

Amanda shook her head, a stubborn frown knitting her brow. "I've changed my mind. I'm staying with Eliz-." 

Leo's hand lightly swatted his wife's backside.

"Ouch!" she exclaimed. Though she couldn't possibly have been hurt by such a playful tap. 

"Get in the carriage, Amanda," Leo repeated. 

Amanda cocked her head to one side and arched a blonde brow at her husband, but she put her hand in his. She paused halfway up the steps, rubbed her other hand against the bottom he'd just swatted and leaned in to speak close to his ear, a seductive purr in her voice. 

"Now, I
definitely
want to stay." She reached out to scratch behind his ear and winked. Leo's ears turned pink. 

"Amanda!" Mrs. Blakely's head appeared in the carriage window.

Leo closed the door behind his wife and raised a hand to the driver. Mrs. Blakely sat back. As the horses sprang forward, Amanda's head and most of her upper body popped out the window. Even over the sounds of hooves and wheels on gravel, Nicholas could hear Mrs. Blakely scolding her daughter. But Amanda continued to hang perilously out the window as the vehicle rolled down the drive, waving to Elizabeth and blowing shamelessly enthusiastic kisses to Leo. 

Elizabeth stepped away from the men and waved back. Her runner shadow followed.

"Thank you, Nick," Leo said.

"For what?"

"For Amanda. For not marrying her yourself." Leo waved back to his wife, nearly matching her enthusiasm.

"You didn't leave me much choice, Leo. But I'm guessing that was intentional. It wasn't an accident Amanda ended up with you in Mrs. Huntington's gazebo, was it?"

Leo laughed. "All's fair, Nick."

The carriage was almost out of sight. Elizabeth and the men returned to the porch to watch it disappear into the forest. A commotion behind them made them turn as one. 

Countess Glenbury, dressed in a gown of broad red and white stripes and wearing one of the most ridiculous hats Nicholas had ever seen, marched out of the house. A sullen-looking Harriet trailed behind her. Like her mother, she'd exchanged the funeral black she'd worn earlier that morning. She now wore a garish dress of mustard orange with cream filigree trim. It clashed alarmingly with her red hair. Nicholas wondered what the girl could have said or done to her dressmaker to cause the woman to consistently attire her in such an unflattering manner. 

"Why couldn't we leave this morning?" Harriet complained as she tromped down the steps to the second carriage. "We'll never make London before nightfall. We'll have to stay at a common inn." 

"Behave, Harriet," the countess said. She nodded to Elizabeth and the long feathers on her hat tapped the top of Elizabeth's head. "Lady Devlin, once again allow me to express my sincere sympathies for your loss." She didn't wait for Elizabeth to respond before extending her hand to Nicholas. "Thank you, your lordship, for a most entertaining visit." 

Nicholas didn't respond. Only a scandalmonger like Countess Glenbury would find a week of violence and murder entertaining. Eager to be rid of the woman, he helped her into the carriage and then turned to assist Harriet in as well. He was so startled when the girl squeezed his hand and peeped seductively up at him through her lashes, that he released her abruptly and slammed the door closed harder than was polite. He resisted the urge to wipe his hand against his coat.

He signaled Jimmy. The carriage lurched unevenly forward, producing muffled squeals from the ladies inside. It lumbered and jerked down the drive, twice running off the gravel, and miraculously managing to find the one pothole on the road. 

Nicholas smiled. Even Jimmy couldn't possibly drive so badly. The young lad would have a long and successful career at Heaven's Edge.

"Thank you, Nick," Leo said under his breath.

"What for this time?" 

"For the second carriage," Leo said. "For sparing my ladies the horror of a ride to London with the Glenburys. And for Jimmy." Leo chuckled and went back into the house.

Elizabeth and her runner shadow followed Leo. Nicholas caught his wife by the elbow just inside the entry hall. He escorted her to the parlor, gently pushing her into the room ahead of him and slamming the door firmly in the runner's face.

Earlier he'd asked Vlad to have a tray of tea and sandwiches waiting. He led Elizabeth to a sofa in front of the tea table and sat down beside her. What he could say to heal what had happened last night, he didn't know. But he could no longer bear her quiet pain. He poured tea and pressed a cup and saucer into her hand.

"Elizabeth, I--"

The parlor door opened. Lennie followed Detective Fielding into the room. The burly runner closed the door decisively and took a wide-legged stance in front of it. Without invitation, Detective Fielding seated himself on a chair opposite the sofa and began helping himself to tea. 

"What do you think, Lord Devlin? Will we find another body today?" the detective asked.

Elizabeth's teacup rattled on its saucer. Nicholas steadied her hand, removing the cup and saucer and setting them on small table beside the sofa. Her hands twisted in her lap. He covered them with one of his own.

"Why should we?" Nicholas asked mildly, while mentally consigning the man to hell. 

"Why?" the detective echoed. He took his time stirring several teaspoons of sugar into his tea, his spoon clicking, sharp and rhythmic, against the china. 

The sound grated on Nicholas's nerves, but he kept his face fixed in a mask of polite enquiry. 

"Last night all my men,
all my men
, slept through the night. Even the two who'd slept most of the previous day in anticipation of being posted to night watch. Do you find that odd, your lordship?"

"Very."

"So do I. And do you know what we found when we woke this morning?"

"How could I?"

"We found a trail of blood spots leading from the stable," --Detective Fielding used his spoon to wave in the direction of the stables and then flipped it to point in the opposite direction, all the while smiling at Elizabeth-- "to your room, Lady Devlin."

Beneath his hand, Nicholas felt Elizabeth's trembling increase. The detective had been baiting her all day, trying to upset her, perhaps hoping she'd lose control and reveal something he could use. Nicholas wanted to rip the man's head from his shoulders. He forced a calm smile.

"It was my blood, Detective," Nicholas said. He pushed his hair back from his forehead, revealing the fast-healing wound Elizabeth's rock had caused. "I went to the stables last night. With most of the servants gone we must do more for ourselves. Clumsy of me."

"Clumsy? No, you're never that, Lord Devlin." Anger and a hint of surprise were in Fielding's voice.

Elizabeth pulled her hands free of Nicholas's grasp. She reached up to her hat and lowered the filmy black material she'd worn throughout the funeral over her face, veiling her expressive violet eyes. Fielding sipped his tea and studied her over the rim of his cup. 

"Lennie," Fielding said, "I want everyone in this household accounted for. And send a man to the village. Find out if anyone went missing last night."

The detective's gaze raked Nicholas's face, his eyes hard. Nicholas kept his expression impassive. Obviously Fielding didn't believe the story of a stable accident, but at the moment that wasn't important. He was tired of the runners' constant harassment. And worried about Elizabeth. 

She'd slept fitfully last night, mumbling and startling, troubled by nightmares. She hadn't eaten all day, refusing breakfast before the funeral and eating nothing at the luncheon that followed. Throughout the death rituals she'd been quietly, mechanically gracious, even to those who'd heard the gossip and attended to gawk rather than mourn. She'd allowed him to lead her from carriage to church to burial vault to carriage, but had not spoken to him or let him comfort her. Last night's transmission had made her physically strong, but Nicholas feared emotionally she was near the end of her endurance. Detective Fielding seemed to think so as well and appeared intent on exploiting it to his advantage.

"My wife has just said goodbye to her mother, Detective. She needs peace and rest. We can talk later. Now, I must take her to her room." Nicholas stood. Elizabeth stood with him. Detective Fielding remained seated, his eyes on his teacup. 

"Lennie will be happy to escort Lady Devlin to her room. I fear I must ask you, your lordship, to stay." 

Elizabeth sat down again. "I prefer to wait and go up with my husband." 

Nicholas sat as well, hope welling within him. It was the first indication she'd given since last night that she still might feel something for him. He squeezed her hand. She didn't respond. 

Fielding sipped his tea and the silence stretched overlong. The detective's eyes remained on Elizabeth. Beneath Nicholas's hand, her hands began to shake. Fielding added another spoonful of sugar to his tea. The spoon resumed its click, click, click.

The desire to knock the cup from the lawman's hand and order him from the house was almost overwhelming. It took all the control Nicholas had to continue to sit quietly, a polite smile on his lips. With the duke's permission, the runners had settled into the rooms vacated by the servants who'd fled. They'd been given the run of the house and property as well. Nicholas knew his father was acquiescing to all of Fielding's demands both because of the detective's thinly veiled threats to arrest Nicholas and in deference to the authority of the royal seal on the papers Fielding carried.

The feeling of being powerless in his own home rankled, but it was the cat and mouse game the detective was playing with Elizabeth that was driving Nicholas mad. And perhaps that is what the man intended. Perhaps the fact that the runners were shadowing his wife, upsetting and intimidating her with their constant presence, had as much to do with rattling Nicholas himself as with anything she might tell them. 

Fielding had found Nicholas's Achilles heel. It was Elizabeth.

The click of the detective's spoon hitting the china cup was the only sound in the room. Fielding leaned back in his chair. The stirring stopped and for a moment it looked as if he might speak. Then, as if he'd thought better of it, he resumed stirring. Click, click, click.

Nicholas knew the tactic, as did any boy who'd run afoul of his teachers at school. That didn't make it any less effective. A glance at Elizabeth eased his mind. Beneath her veil, her eyes were closed, her breathing deep and even. Had it not been for her straight-backed posture, he might have thought she slept. Perhaps she too had had a childhood instructor who'd used silence to set nerves a-jangle and loosen tongues.

Long seconds passed. Finally, the detective spoke again.

"How long has it been since your marriage, Lady Devlin? Six days? How long an engagement? Three weeks? Ah, but you only saw Lord Devlin once during that time, didn't you? In fact, the only time you spoke to his lordship before your wedding was the night you met. True?"

"Yes," Elizabeth answered softly.

"How well can you really know a man in such a short time?"