Nicole Jordan (40 page)

“That would be very helpful, squire.”

The magistrate suddenly frowned thoughtfully. “Come to think of it…I find it odd that you’re the second person to come here with inquiries about Thomas Forrester. A gentleman was here last spring asking the same kind of questions.”

Thorne felt his heart begin to thud. “Oh? Can you recall this gentleman’s name?”

“Yes indeed, my lord. His name was Lunsford. Nathaniel Lunsford.”

Nineteen

A
lthough Diana
had resolved to break off her betrothal with Thorne, she had no chance to act before receiving his message that he would be away from town for a few days. Yet she wasn’t sure whether his absence left her more frustrated or relieved.

In the interim, the duke’s strategy to salvage her artistic reputation seemed to be working. Sir Thomas Lawrence was quoted as saying, “Miss Sheridan brings the best qualities of style and grace to her art.” Additionally, it was rumored that the Royal Academy judges were considering the remarkable step of extending her an invitation to join the summer exhibition when it officially opened this week, even though the entrants had been determined several weeks before that.

And both affirmations of her talent helped to stop the hemorrhaging of her clientele.

Thus, Diana was in her studio one afternoon completing a sitting when her housekeeper apologetically interrupted her, saying there was a “young woman” below who begged to speak with Miss Sheridan on a matter of great urgency. The visitor, whose name was Kitty Wathen, would
not
go away.

Kitty, Diana recollected, was the Cyprian in Venus’s employ who had captivated Amy’s fortune-hunter.

Highly puzzled—and a bit disquieted that her cousin might have provoked some further mischief as she’d done by stealing Thorne’s portrait—Diana called an early end to the sitting and saw her client away, then stepped into the parlor, where Kitty Wathen awaited her.

The blond woman was quite a beauty, petite and fair, with the kind of sweet, helpless air that made gentlemen want to play rescuer. But Diana could see at once from Kitty’s expression that her current distress was no calculated act.

“I beg your pardon for coming here like this, Miss Sheridan,” she said at once, “but I didn’t know where else to turn. Lord Thorne has not been at home for the past several days, and his butler refuses to tell me how I could reach him. I thought someone should warn his lordship. I fear…I think he might be in grave danger.”

Diana tried to quell the stab of alarm Kitty’s pronouncement stirred in her. “Won’t you please be seated and tell me why you think so?”

Kitty perched on the sofa and clasped her hands in agitation. “I’m not sure where to begin. Perhaps the conversation I recently overheard…. Two bruisers at our club talking about how they meant to do away with Lord Thorne. Kill him, I mean.”

“
Kill
him?” Diana exclaimed, her heart jolting in her chest.

“I fear so. Billy Finch and Sam Birkin work at the club as bruisers.”

Those must be the same two men Thorne suspected of attempted murder during the holdup, Diana remembered.
Dear God.

“I heard them arguing with Madam Venus,” Kitty went on. “Or rather, Venus was arguing with them. She told them they couldn’t kill Lord Thorne or there would be the devil to pay. She was very angry.”

With effort, Diana kept the panic from her voice. “You think Venus asked them to kill Lord Thorne?”

“No, just the opposite. I figured someone else gave Billy and Sam orders, but Venus told them they worked for
her,
not Thomas, whoever that is. And it wasn’t my place to interfere. But now Madam Venus is missing, and I am dreadfully worried. No one has seen her since the night I heard her arguing…last Thursday.”

Five days ago. Diana swallowed convulsively as her mind raced ahead. Thorne had sent her a message on Friday saying he would be out of town on business for a few days, yet his note had seemed calm enough. Surely nothing had happened to him. Surely her heart would have sensed it if he had been injured or worse.

“I thought Lord Thorne should be warned,” Kitty said. “I went to his house twice and was turned away. The second time I left a note, but I didn’t feel that was enough.”

“I will go at once,” Diana responded. “His servants will listen to me.”

“Maybe something has already happened to him. And to Madam Venus, as well.”

Diana took a deep breath and shook her head, refusing to consider that dreadful possibility. “There is likely a simple explanation. Lord Thorne did indeed leave town for a few days. In fact, I wonder if Venus might have accompanied him.”

“But why would she not have told us she would be away? She has never been gone this long before.”

Hearing the fear in Kitty’s voice, Diana tried to remain calm and to marshal her scattered thoughts. “But she has disappeared before this?”

“Sometimes she visits a…certain house in London, but never for more than a night.”

Diana raised a hand to her temple, trying feverishly to think. If she could find Venus and question her, she could perhaps discover why the two bruisers wanted Thorne dead and could ward off the danger. “Do you have any notion where Venus might have gone? Perhaps this house you spoke of?”

“I suppose it’s possible. I was afraid to look for her there, in case Sam and Billy were to see me and think I was meddling. They aren’t blokes you want to cross. And it’s doubtful Venus wants anyone knowing where she goes. I suspect she has a lover there. I only know about the house because I ran an errand for her there once.”

“Can you take me to this house?”

Kitty’s face grew pale. “Oh, Miss Sheridan, I daren’t go. If I was to rat on Sam and Billy, they would likely kill me, too. I can give you the direction, though. It’s near the theater district, not too far from the club. Parker Street, Number Twelve. Venus has been a good mistress, and I would hate it if something bad were to happen to her.”

“So would I. And she could be ill or possibly injured. I think I should visit the house without delay, to see if she is there—”

“Oh, would you, Miss Sheridan? It would be best if you went, since Sam and Billy aren’t likely to do you harm.”

Diana wasn’t so certain about that, but there was no need to discuss her fears with her caller. Before she went anywhere in search of Venus, she would take adequate precautions. “I will visit the house as soon as I speak to Thorne’s servants, unless you know where else I should look for her.”

“No place I can think of. Thank you, Miss Sheridan.” Kitty grimaced. “I know you don’t want the likes of me calling on you, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

“No, you did very well to come to me, Kitty. I will make certain Lord Thorne hears your warning. And I will do my best to find Venus, I promise you.”

As soon as she changed her gown, Diana called for her carriage and had her coachman drive her to Thorne’s house in Cavendish Square. She was accompanied by the three strapping footmen Thorne had established in her house for her protection, and she carried the loaded brace of pistols he’d insisted she take. If she intended to search unfamiliar districts of London, she wanted to be well prepared.

As she feared, Thorne was not at home—traveling in Sussex, according to his butler—but she took the time to write him a long note of explanation, telling him the basic details of Kitty’s disturbing tale and warning him to take care.

Diana had descended the front steps of his grand mansion and was debating whether to go to Parker Street and look for Venus just then when, to her startlement, she saw Thorne’s traveling chaise approaching.

Relief overwhelmed her when he stepped down a few moments later, while her heart leapt deplorably at the sight of his handsome face—and not simply because he was unharmed. Thorne had been absent only four days, but she had missed him dreadfully.

A wretched sign, Diana thought, wincing. If her feelings were so pitifully agitated after so short a time, how could she bear to end their relationship altogether? But this was no time to be missish, she scolded herself.

When he gave her a quizzical frown, she cast an apologetic glance at John Yates and drew Thorne away from the crowd of carriages and servants, out of earshot.

“What’s amiss?” he demanded in a low voice, studying her expression.

“Kitty Wathen just came to see me.” Diana quickly explained about the Cyprian’s visit, including her warning that Thorne might be a target for murder and the fact that Venus had been missing for days. “Do you know where she might have gone?” Diana asked at the conclusion. “She has not been with you?”

“No, I haven’t seen her.”

“Then I think we should try to find her. She could be in trouble. At the very least, she can tell us why her two brutes want to kill you. In fact, I was just on my way to search for her.”

“I’ll go,” Thorne said curtly. “It’s time I confronted Venus, in any case. Where is this house on Parker Street?”

“Number Twelve.”

He started to turn, but Diana laid a restraining hand on his arm. “Thorne, is it at all possible we were wrong about Venus? I know it is only instinct, but…I don’t want to believe she could brutally order your murder, or that she could have killed Nathaniel in cold blood. Do you truly think her capable of such horrible acts?”

With a grim smile, Thorne took Diana’s gloved hand and brought it to his lips. “Of course you don’t want to believe her capable of murder, but I’ve learned never to underestimate the enemy.”

“But Venus may not be the enemy—”

“If so, then she will have to prove it,” he said darkly. “Now we are wasting time.” Turning, he strode toward the carriages.

“I am coming with you,” Diana announced as she hurried after him, which made Thorne halt abruptly. “If she is guilty,” Diana added as his lips formed the word
no,
“then I want to see her punished. But if she is in trouble, I want to help her.”

“You have my word, I won’t condemn Venus unjustly.”

“Even so, you are not going alone. I worry you might encounter something dangerous. What if those two brigands are waiting for you? I don’t want you to be killed.”

Thorne flashed her a scowl. “And you meant to go searching for Venus there on your own?”

“I came prepared.” Briefly Diana told him about the footmen and the pistols she’d brought with her. “You cannot stop me, Thorne. If you won’t let me come, I will simply follow you.”

He gave her a long look that was three parts annoyance, one part resignation. “Very well, but you’ll stay in the carriage while Yates and I investigate.”

Diana bit back a protest, knowing she had to be satisfied with that small victory.

Number Twelve was a modest two-story house halfway down a quiet lane, Thorne saw as Diana’s carriage drew to a halt. He and Yates had ridden with her in her vehicle, while his traveling chaise carrying several armed footmen followed a discreet distance behind. Uncertain what to expect, Thorne had decided it wiser to bring solid reinforcements.

Unlike Diana, he had little doubt that Venus was guilty of ordering her bruisers to kill him during the holdup of his coach. And her complicity in Nathaniel’s murder was even more likely.

Venus’s disappearance, however, admittedly disturbed him.

He’d planned to confront her with the mounting evidence he’d collected against her brother and, if necessary, incarcerate her until she confessed her complicity. But given this puzzling turn of events, he would have to improvise.

He made certain Diana had a pistol that was primed and loaded, and told her to wait in her carriage while he and Yates called at the house. Then he ordered two of his men around back to block any escape routes, and a third to accompany him to the front door.

When he rapped briskly, there was no response at first, so he knocked again. It was a long moment before the door swung open.

The uglier of Venus’s two bruisers stood there, a bleary-eyed scowl on his face, as if he’d just awakened from a drunken stupor. Upon glimpsing Thorne, Billy Finch opened his eyes wide in shock. “Devil save me,” Finch swore under his breath.

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Thorne returned mildly.

Finch turned and bolted, giving a shout as he raced toward the back of the house.

Thorne went after him. The bruiser had almost reached the end of the hall when Thorne lunged for his legs and tackled him to the wooden floor.

Finch came down hard, grunting, but immediately scrambled onto his back and began flailing at Thorne’s face with his fists.

Thorne saw a painful burst of hot stars as one powerful blow connected with his cheekbone. In one section of his mind, he was aware of a commotion behind him—the thud of boot steps on wooden stairs—and suspected the bruiser’s cohort was attempting to flee the house, but he was too busy trying to subdue Finch to react, and had to trust that Yates could stop their quarry.

His hope faltered when a sideways glance let him see the larger of Venus’s bruisers barrel into Yates first and then into the third footman. Both men gave grunting curses and went crashing to the floor along with their pistols. The second weapon discharged harmlessly into a wall, the shot reverberating as Sam Birkin fled out the front door.