The Pleasure Trap (32 page)

She couldn’t hide her revulsion. “That will change when it gets out that little Bertie Messenger didn’t die in that fire, that he assumed a new name and a new life.” She stopped and inhaled sharply. “Jason Ford. That was the name of the boy who died in the fire.”

Her words obviously jolted him. “How could you possibly know that? I never told anyone.”

She said slowly, “You took the identity of the boy you murdered, the boy your father identified as his own son. What did that boy ever do to harm you?”

The suspicion in his eyes was replaced by amusement. “Nothing. I was tired of my old life, tired of being the son of a broken-down drunk. Jason had money and no family or friends who would miss him. I couldn’t let an opportunity like that pass me by. Now, could I?”

“You let your father hang for murder?”

He gave a theatrical sigh. “It was supposed to look like an accident. There was nothing I could do to save my father.”

“No. I don’t suppose there was. There’s only one person you love, and that’s the reflection you see in a mirror.”

His only response was a laugh.

She was running out of things to say, running out of ways to delay him. How long would it take for Andy to fetch the porters? Where was Ash? Where, oh, where was Ash, and why had she never told him that she loved him?

It looked as though his patience was coming to an end. Trying not to sound desperate, she said, “You made a fatal blunder when you attended the symposium. Lydia recognized you.”

“I wanted her to recognize me. I thought that she had published those stories and I had to know how much she knew. Yes, I’d changed my name, but so had she. We didn’t want to be recognized as Thomas Messenger’s children.”

“Poor Lydia. Is she going to be your next victim?”

He laughed. “No, Evie. You’ll be my next victim.”

She brought up her pistol and aimed it straight at his heart. It was in her left hand, and she was praying that at this distance she would not miss. “Your luck has run out, Bertie. I think the phrase is, ‘Prepare to meet thy Maker.’ No doubt the devil will be happy to see you again.”

He shook his head. “You’ll never pull that trigger. Not in cold blood. Why, that would make you no better than I am.”

He spoke the truth. Tears of frustration stung her eyes, and she lowered her pistol a fraction. She wouldn’t put a bullet through his heart. She’d put a bullet in his good leg, supposing she could keep her pistol steady.

They were both startled when something heavy smashed against the door. The snarling and baying sounded as though a lion with a thorn in its paw was trying to attack them.

“Dexter!” Eve cried out.

Her eyes jerked back to Ford just as he leaped for her. She pulled the trigger, but the shot went wild.

“Eve!” Ash’s voice. “Hold on! Do you hear? Hold on!”

She couldn’t answer. She and Ford were locked together on the floor, and she was desperately trying to keep the point of his knife away from her throat. One thrust would have finished her off, but he didn’t seem to have the strength to complete the movement. Then it came to her. Nell had bitten his wrist to the bone. He was handicapped by his injury, forced to rely on the use of his left hand.

The din coming from the door made her heart sing. Dexter’s furious snarls were almost drowned out by the shattering sound of the door as it began to give way under Ash’s maddened onslaught. She had to hang on. She groped for her pistol and smashed it into the hand that was holding the knife. Ford let out a howl of pain and dropped the knife. She took full advantage and rolled, taking the knife with her.

“Bitch, fucking bitch!” Ford bit out. He sprang up and kicked her in the ribs.

He would have come at her again, and she was in no condition to stop him. She was doubled up with pain, but the door suddenly gave way and Ash and Dexter came in together. Behind them, she caught a glimpse of Nell.

Ford straightened and faced Dexter’s ferocious charge. She was inside his mind. He had a pistol. As Dexter tore down the length of the gallery to bring him down, Ford debated. If he shot the dog, he would have nothing to defend himself against Denison or any of the porters.

He made his decision in a split second. Turning, he ran for the open window and jumped. All the air rushed out of Eve’s lungs. She could read his horror as he hurtled toward the ground. He hadn’t known that the scaffolding had been removed earlier that day.

She pulled herself to her knees, then to her feet, and stumbled to the window. Far below, on the terrace of one of the downstairs rooms, Bertie Messenger lay unmoving, spread-eagled on his face.

The nightmare was over.

Then she was in Ash’s arms, with Dexter licking the blood from her hand. There was no emotion left in her, no tears and no anger. “He didn’t know about the scaffolding,” she said.

Ash’s arms tightened around her. After a moment, he pulled her away from the window. His hands shook as he smoothed her hair back from her face. He was having trouble breathing, and not only because of his maddened sprint up three flights of stairs and his frenzied charge against the locked door. He thought he had lost her. His mind could hardly grasp that it was Ford who had fallen to his death and not Eve.

“He didn’t know that the scaffolding had been removed,” she repeated hoarsely. “He thought he would climb down and get away.”

His voice betrayed the violence that was still pumping hard and fast through his blood. “He could never have run far enough to get away from me. Don’t talk now. I’m going to get you to bed and have the doctor look at your arm.”

She was beginning to sound drowsy. “It can’t be that bad. It hardly slowed me down. Only I couldn’t use it to hold up my pistol.” She had something important to tell him, and she groped in her mind before it came to her. “Do you want to know what happened to Harry?”

“Hush. Tell me later.”

He stooped down, hoisted her in his arms, and began to walk to the door. The gallery was beginning to fill up with porters. To one, he said, “Get the doctor. He’s at the fair. And if you can’t find Dr. Braine, any doctor will do. And see if you can find Constable Keble.” To another, he said, “Get everyone out of here and lock the door. There’s a body outside on the terrace below this gallery. I want it guarded until the constable gets here. Don’t let anyone touch anything.”

When they were in the corridor, she whispered, “Where is Nell?”

He replied soothingly, “She was right behind me when I entered the gallery. I’m sure she slipped away when she saw that you were all right.”

“Is Dexter here?”

He looked around. “No.”

She smiled to herself. “He’ll be with Nell.”

He saw Andy in the corridor, looking lost and afraid. Ash tried to gentle his voice. The boy was no more than twelve or thirteen. “I want you to help me take care of Miss Dearing. There should be a medicine box in the kitchen. Bring it to her room. Oh, and good job, Andy. You did well.”

Andy smiled and ran for the door to the servants’ staircase.

As Ash laid Eve on the bed, she said weakly, “I’m sure there are more victims we know nothing about. I had the impression of him once as a two-year-old child in a man’s body. So much strength in the hands of a two-year-old in the throes of a temper tantrum. A man like that would kill you as soon as look at you.”

“Not anymore,” he said, “thanks to one brave, intrepid girl.”

She smiled at that, then whimpered when he began to dry her arm with a towel. “That hurts!”

“Not half as much as it hurts me,” he replied.

She gave a valiant chuckle as though he had made a joke, but he wasn’t joking. None of this would have happened if he had trusted Eve’s intuition. He hadn’t been lured away from Eve’s side. He’d been completely caught up in his own grasp of events and had overridden her protests. And waiting his chance in the wings was his worst nightmare, the monster who snuffed out lives as indifferently as other men snuffed out candles.

He’d handed her over to Jason Ford without a second thought. No thanks to him that she had survived. She’d even explained why Dexter did not bark when Ford had stalked her when she was out looking for Nell. Dexter was used to Ford’s scent. He was at the house often enough. As long as Ford did not threaten Eve, he was safe from her dog.

Ash was with her when the doctor arrived. Dr. Braine tiptoed around, casting sideways glances at Ash as though half afraid that he was in the presence of a sleeping lion. He tiptoed out with the assurance that, though Miss Dearing would always carry a thin scar, no real harm was done and a small dose of laudanum would be sufficient to dull the pain.

Ash closed the door behind the doctor and took his chair again. His eyes were unwavering on Eve’s face. “Now tell me about Harry,” he said. “That is, if you are up to it.”

“Oh, I’m up to it. I’m not an invalid. I feel I can breathe again, as though the terrible pressure that was suffocating me has finally been lifted.”

He took her hand and waited for her to begin.

She spoke simply and without drama or emotion. “Albert Messenger was afraid of horses. Harry wasn’t. A mounted groom took Harry up in front of him and trotted around the pasture. Harry enjoyed every minute of it. Then it was Albert’s turn. Well, he wasn’t going to let a cripple like Harry show him up. But no sooner had he mounted the horse than he fell off. Everyone laughed, but it was Harry’s laughter that incensed him.”

She paused to gather her thoughts before going on. “The impressions I got from Messenger were fleeting, but it was the memory of Harry that I locked on to. I saw him in an invalid chair in the garden, reading a book. He was enjoying the story.”

Ash’s voice was thick. “Harry was like that. He took pleasure in simple things.”

“I can tell.”

“Go on. Tell me what happened next.”

She gave a tiny sigh. “Albert came along and offered to wheel Harry down to the river. There were no servants about. Albert had chosen his moment with care. You know the rest.”

“Did…did he suffer?”

“Not for long. He wasn’t frightened at first. He thought it was a game gone wrong.”

They sat quietly for a long time, not saying anything, then she stirred and pulled herself up. “As I said before, he had the control of a two-year-old child. His other victims…” She shook her head. “They made him feel small and he tossed them away like broken toys.”

He got up and walked to the window and stared out, obviously lost in thought. After a while she said his name, bringing his attention back to her.

“You can trust what I say, Ash. I didn’t imagine any of it. I
was
inside Messenger’s mind.”

He gave a humorless smile. “The Claverley charisma? Believe me, I’m a convert. I only wish I’d learned to trust it before we got to this pass.”

She wasn’t sure how to take him. She’d finally got what she wanted—Ash convinced that her charisma was real—but it didn’t make her feel the way she’d thought she’d feel.

There was a tap at the door and Miss Claverley entered. “I’ve brought the dose of laudanum the doctor prescribed,” she said.

She bustled about and Ash withdrew, saying that he would tidy himself and return later.

Eve tried to stay awake, but after taking the laudanum, she fell into an exhausted sleep.

Chapter Twenty-seven

The following morning, Ash and Eve had a short conference before they met with Constable Keble. They both agreed to pare the events of the night before to the essentials. Anything else would have caused a great deal of pain to innocent people—Lydia for one and Robert Thompson’s widow for another. Nell, of course, had to be protected at all costs. Besides, the truth would sound so far-fetched that they doubted whether the constable would believe them.

They met in a little parlor just off the music room, and though the door was closed to give them privacy, Eve couldn’t help feeling that the walls had ears. The house was quiet, too quiet for her comfort.

When Ash gave her a nod, she composed herself and embarked on the story she had rehearsed. Jason Ford, she said, stumbled out of the shrubbery and told her that someone had waylaid him, hit him on the head, and proceeded to rob him. She wanted to summon the constable, but Ford wouldn’t hear of it. In retrospect, she thought that the same person who had attacked Hawkins had also attacked Mr. Ford. He complained of a headache, but other than that, he seemed fine to her, and when she mentioned that her coat wasn’t warm enough, he offered to escort her back to the Manor so that she could find a warmer one. And that was when everything went terribly wrong.

He became disoriented, and when she tried to help him, he turned on her. Panicked, she ran away. It all ended in the picture gallery, when Mr. Ford threw himself out the window after slicing her arm with a knife.

The constable nodded a lot, occasionally smiled, and asked a few questions to clarify glaring omissions in her recitation. Her replies were vague.

“Some men never get over the war,” Ash threw in at this point. “It preys on their minds. I think that’s what happened to Ford.”

There was a long silence, then Keble looked up at Eve, his mouth quirking with wry humor. “No wonder you’re a writer,” he said. “That was quite a story. Oh, don’t mistake me. I’ll write it down word for word in my official report. But to satisfy my curiosity, I’d like to hear the bits you’ve left out.”

Ash smiled sheepishly. “Just between us two?”

The constable nodded. “Word of honor.”

Eve got up. “I’ll let Lord Denison fill in the blanks. Dr. Braine should be here at any moment to dress my arm. He’s a busy man. I shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

No one tried to stop her. Both men seemed to realize that she had no wish to relive her desperate encounter with Jason Ford. She felt drained, but it wasn’t only because of her lucky escape from a black-hearted killer. She couldn’t help thinking about all his other victims. How had he gone undetected for so long?

When she entered the music room, three pairs of eyes regarded her anxiously, so she tried to put on a cheerful face. Amanda was there, and she came forward and gave Eve a hug.

“I stayed the night,” she said. “I wanted to be near you just in case I could do any little thing to help, but Ash had everything in hand.”

Eve swallowed and kept her smile fixed while she nodded to her aunt and Lady Sayers. Amanda led her to a chair and pushed her into it.

“Sherry,” said Lady Sayers, thrusting a glass into Eve’s hand. “Drink up, ladies, drink up. There’s plenty more where that came from.”

Eve observed that everyone was nursing a glass of sherry. “Are we celebrating something?”

“It’s a tonic, dear,” replied her aunt. “After the harrowing events of last night, we all felt the need of something stronger than tea. It will do you good, do us all good.”

The reference to what had happened the night before made Eve shiver. Her friends didn’t know the half of it. Ash had told them more than she had told the constable, but they didn’t know about the murders Ford had committed as a boy.

She looked up as Lady Sayers tucked a shawl around her knees. “That will warm you,” her ladyship said softly.

Amanda took the chair next to Eve’s. “Are you worried about Nell? You needn’t be, you know. Dexter is with her. And Liza has ridden over to Hill House to make sure that she got home safely last night.”

Her ladyship made a scoffing sound. “It’s not Nell I’m worried about. It’s Dr. Braine. Liza can be very persistent when she wants to be. I wonder if that’s why the good doctor hasn’t arrived yet to dress Eve’s arm?”

Everyone laughed, and Eve looked at their dear faces and felt her throat tighten. She had a circle of friends who meant the world to her. She hadn’t particularly liked them when she first met them, but life had an odd way of turning a person in an unexpected direction. Now she didn’t want to be parted from them.

Miss Claverley held her glass of sherry up to the light. “I think,” she said, “Liza is going to surprise us all.”

The words were hardly out of her mouth when footsteps came pounding along the corridor and Liza herself burst into the room. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair was askew, and a strong smell of the stables hung on her disheveled clothes.

“The most wonderful thing has happened,” she cried out. She sniffed and tears ran down her cheeks.

Alarmed, Lady Sayers cried, “What is it, dear? What’s the matter?”

“It’s Fanny. She had her baby, and I was there when it happened. I had to help Anna and Archie. It’s a boy, and we’re calling him Freddie.”

“Slow down, child.” Lady Sayers had started to her feet. “You’re not telling me that Dr. Braine allowed you to assist at a birthing?”

“Oh, Aunt, it was a foal’s birthing.”

“Even so—”

“And Archie was wonderful. I wish you could have seen him. I was frightened because I’d never done anything like this before—”

“I should hope not!” Lady Sayers interjected.

“And Fanny is really too old to have a baby. She was having difficulty, so…so I ran and fetched Archie and at the end I helped him. It was a miracle that the foal was saved. But that was Archie’s doing. And I wrapped little Freddie in a blanket while Archie saw to his mother.” She beamed at everyone through her tears. “If you had only seen him! I know you all think that he’s a dry stick, but he isn’t like that at all. He’s gentle and warmhearted and the kindest man I know.” She drew in a long breath. “I’m giving you fair warning. I’ve made up my mind that I’m going to marry him.”

Amanda let out a sigh.

“What?” demanded Liza, pinning the older girl with a hostile stare.

Amanda jumped. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

“Don’t tell me ‘nothing’! I want to know what you are thinking.”

Amanda said carefully, “Dr. Braine won’t like it if you start hounding him. Let him come to you, Liza, or you may frighten him away.”

She spoke like a wise big sister to a little sister, and the little sister was true to form. Hands on hips, Liza choked out, “You’re the last person to give anyone advice. A blind man can see that you’re in love with Mr. Henderson and he with you, but all he gets from you is a cold stare. What’s the point of hiding your feelings? Are you happier for it? Wouldn’t you rather know where you stand? At least you would have a reason for being so miserable.”

“Liza!” declared her ladyship in an awful voice. “You have said quite enough!”

Liza bit down on her lip. “I’m sorry, Amanda. That was uncalled for. It’s just—” Her face crumpled and, picking up her skirts, she ran from the room.

Amanda’s face was white when she turned to the others. “She’s talking nonsense, of course,” she said. “Everyone knows that Philip is going to marry Miss Rose.”

“Oh, I think you’re wrong about that.” Miss Claverley picked up a newspaper. “It’s right here on page three.
The engagement is announced between Miss Ardith Mary Rose and Mr. Stephen Willis Lockerby.
Ardith. It’s an unusual name, that’s why I remembered it.”

Amanda stared, then she, too, burst into tears and ran from the room.

Eve felt as though all the wind had been knocked out of her sails. A moment ago she’d marveled at how close they had all become. Now they were behaving like naughty children. She wanted to stamp her foot.

Miss Claverley caught her eye. “It’s all going to work out for the best,” her aunt said, and she picked up her glass and complacently sipped her sherry.

Ash walked with her in the garden after lunch. He seemed subdued, distant, and that revived her worst fears. Pride kept her spine straight and her expression devoid of all the tortured emotions that churned inside her.

“I’ll be gone for a few days,” he said. “I don’t know how many, but I will be back in time for Liza’s ball.”

He kicked a pebble along the path. Eve kept her expression serene. “Where will you go?”

“To my estate in Richmond.” He flashed her a look that Eve could not read (an annoying aberration for a Claverley), then he went on, “I have to put my house in order, settle my tenants’ quarrels, that sort of thing.”

“Of course.” She knew him better now, knew how much his people liked and respected him. He wouldn’t let them down.

“Then I thought I’d visit Colonel Shearer and Lady Trigg to tell them about their servants and how Albert Messenger deliberately murdered them. I owe them that much.”

“How will you explain how you know?”

He smiled. “Don’t worry. I won’t give your secret away. I’ll tell them that all the evidence points to Messenger’s guilt, but he died in a fire so he can never answer for his crimes.” He glanced at her, then looked away. “I don’t want them to be left to wonder, as you and I were left to wonder about Harry and your mother.”

She knew he was right. Though she’d wept bitterly for her mother, there was a feeling of completion. She had, in a sense, brought her mother’s murderer to justice. It was true that Albert Messenger was only a boy at the time, but he’d murdered others since then.

“I think you know,” he said, “that my grandmother is visiting her goddaughter? Henrietta’s house is not far from Lady Trigg’s. I’ll spend the night there and pay homage to the new baby. My grandmother will expect it of me.”

“My, you will be busy!” She regretted the pettish words as soon as she’d uttered them. How could she fault a man who always put others before himself?

He let out a long sigh and grasped her hands. “Look, Eve,” he said, “you’ve been under a great strain lately, and I’m giving you a little time to recover your strength. We have a lot to talk about. When I come back, then we’ll talk.”

She watched him go with a sinking heart.

It wasn’t all gloom and doom. The day before Liza’s ball, when they had all assembled in the music room after lunch, Lady Sayers burst in.

Face flushed, eyes sparkling, she cried, “My dears, you’ll never guess what has happened. Dr. Braine was here not a moment ago, asking my permission for Liza’s hand in marriage. Of course, I had to tell him that she is underage and he must apply to her father. And what do you think?”

Miss Claverley answered, “He’s off to France to see Liza’s father in person?”

“Clever Miss Claverley!” Her ladyship beamed. “But he won’t go until after the ball.”

After getting over the initial shock, they all started talking across one another. Liza gave a shriek and bolted through the door. Anna, who was back at the Manor, began to extol the virtues of the young woman who had helped bring dear little Freddie into the world, while Lydia nodded her agreement. Amanda made a few incoherent choked sounds, and Eve began to laugh. By the time her ladyship handed round the sherry decanter, they were all bubbling like fizzy champagne.

The next blaze of excitement came from Amanda. She was gone for an hour, and when she returned, she asked if she could have a quiet word with Eve.

Eve took her to the parlor where she and Ash had met with the constable. Amanda flashed a shy little smile. “Eve,” she said, “I want you to be the first to know that Philip and I are getting married. I took a leaf out of Liza’s book, you see, and told him that I’d been a fool to let him go all those years ago and that he would always have my heart. I married Mark because it was expected. We’d been engaged almost from the cradle. I shall always feel guilty about that. He was a good man. He deserved a woman who could give him her whole heart.”

She shed a tear or two about that, then went on, “My eyes were finally opened when Liza took me to task. Philip shouldn’t be miserable just because I feel guilty. He deserves a woman who can give him her whole heart, too, and he has found her in me. I can’t wait to tell the others, especially Liza.”