The Sanctuary (A Spencer Novel) (30 page)

Chapter 53

A heavy bang against the front door had Hodges rushing to open it. A man brushed passed the startled butler and stopped, surveying the group of people gathered in the hall. His gaze came to rest on Anthony.

“I believe this is yours,
Cousin
,” Gerald said, indicating the bundle in his arms.

Anthony pushed through the crowd and extracted Clairece from Gerald’s hold, closing his eyes for fear of what he would see. At her soft murmur, he buried his face in her hair and drew in her scent.

“Where did you find her?” Anthony finally managed.

Gerald handed his coat to a waiting footman and advanced farther into the foyer, now filled to overflowing with people. “The icehouse. I heard a noise and decided to investigate.” He touched Clairece’s cheek. “You must do something about that door before a regrettable accident occurs.”

Anthony carried her into the drawing room and set her on a settee near the fire. After covering her legs with a lap robe, he dropped to his knees and began to chafe her icy hands.

Virginia settled beside Clairece, enfolding her daughter in her arms.

“I was so frightened, and . . . and cold.” Clairece licked her lips. “The worst was when I realized I might never see you again—any of you, again.”

Clairece’s cheeks were pale and her lips held a blue cast, but her teeth had ceased to chatter.

Gerald withdrew a piece of faded parchment from his coat pocket and held it out to Anthony. “We keep forgetting this. Once it’s filed, Roxbury Abbey will officially be yours.”

Anthony rose and accepted the deed, handing it directly to Jason Rutledge before placing a hand on Gerald’s shoulder. “If you wish to keep it, I’ll help you.”

Gerald’s lips lifted at the corners. “Thank you, but no. That was never the life I wanted. The Abbey and its contents are yours to do with as you will.” His gaze slid to Clairece and Virginia huddled together on the sofa. “You always had the Midas touch,
Cousin
.”

“You’re Anthony’s cousin?” Clairece asked, struggling to rise.

Gerald offered his hand to assist her. “Sir Gerald Wade, Baronet Roxbury, at your service, my lady.”

“I owe you more than I can repay,” Clairece whispered.

His smile shifted subtly. “My . . . pleasure.” When he glanced at Anthony, something unholy flickered in Gerald’s eyes.

Inexplicably, Anthony’s stomach revolted.

“I also came to say goodbye,” Gerald continued. “I’ve often thought I would like to see the continent and try the amusements to be found there.”

Before Anthony could speak, Clairece urged, “You must at least accept our hospitality for a couple of days, especially if you are to leave for an extended time.”

Gerald acknowledged the invitation with a dip of his head. “I would be delighted. But first, I must collect my belongings and make arrangements for the voyage.”

Anthony guessed it to be some misguided attempt on Clairece’s part to reconcile the two of them, but it would take far more to resolve their differences. “I would like Farris to see you, my love.”

“There’s no need to trouble the doctor. A hot bath will set everything to rights.” Clairece pivoted toward the door.

A nagging question formed. “Where were the footmen who accompanied you to the icehouse?” His wife slowly turned to face him. At her reticence, anger ignited. “Where were the damned guards, Clairece?”

Clairece bit her lower lip. “All the footmen were busy. I didn’t think—”

“No, you damn well didn’t think!” Anthony bellowed. At the shocked gasps around him, he worked to suppress the rage roiling inside.

Clairece stiffened, her nostrils flared, and her face set in a way Anthony could only interpret as mutinous.

“Go to your rooms, madam. I will attend you there shortly,” Anthony ordered through gritted teeth.

Clairece rested her balled fists on her hips. “You think to send me to my chamber like a disobedient child?”

“You wish to do this now?” Anthony asked in a tone which had caused grown men to quake in their boots.

His recalcitrant wife edged forward and stared at him. “What right—”

Anthony’s already strained control snapped. “What right do I have? Is that what you were about to say?” He advanced a few steps and halted when her eyes widened in alarm. “I have a husband’s right. The only reason I don’t turn you over my knee and paddle you, which you so obviously deserve, is because I’m damned thankful you’re alive.”

Clairece shifted uncomfortably.

“What in God’s name were you doing? I set down rules for the express purpose of protecting those who live here. I expected them to be followed, especially by my wife who seems to have forgotten there’s a maniac trying to kill her.”

Men’s voices rumbled in warning.

“Do you have any idea what it would do to me if I lost you? Do you even care?” Anthony raged.

“This is neither the time nor place, Tony,” James advised, gripping Anthony’s shoulder.

Anthony shuddered. “For the love of God, Clairece, please go upstairs.”

Her sob broke the silence in the room. Anthony watched as stricken, Clairece whirled and flew up the stairs, Virginia hurrying after her.

Dr. Farris started for the door. “With your permission, I’ll attend Lady Clairece.”

Anthony scrubbed his hand over his face. “Please do.”

“So she’s your Achilles heel. I never thought to see it,” Gerald murmured.

Anthony turned on his cousin, his facial muscles taut with the effort to remain cordial. “My wife has a kind heart and would mend what she believes to be a simple rift between us. But I’m under no such illusion.”

Gerald’s eyes narrowed.

“Never underestimate what I would do to protect what is mine,” Anthony growled.

“My lord,” Hodges intoned from the doorway. “I’ve taken the liberty of setting up a cart of libations, tea, and coffee for your guests.”

“I, for one, could use a drink.” With a mockery of a bow, Gerald headed for the impromptu tantalus.

Anthony whirled toward the hearth. He’d made a complete arse of himself in front of a room full of men, most of which were Clairece’s family. The thought of his wife knowingly placing herself at risk had catapulted him into a morass of fear no amount of practiced discipline could control.

“May I speak to you for a moment?”

So lost in thought, Anthony hadn’t heard Joel approach. “Of course.”

“I’d like to ask a few questions. You don’t have to answer.”

Anthony thought he probably did. “Ask your questions.”

“What drew you to my daughter?”

Surprised, Anthony responded slowly. “At first, her beauty. She is the most exquisite woman I’ve ever seen.” He thought back and smiled. “Her voice, with its husky quality. And her eyes. Besides their most astonishing color, Clairece has a way of looking inside a man and seeing things others do not.” He warmed to the subject. “Her naïveté
.
For all Clairece exudes an air of sophistication, I have this overwhelming urge to protect her. I did from the beginning.”

Joel cleared his throat. “Yes, well, I heard something about the way you met.”

Anthony felt heat rise in his face. “Sir . . .” he began, only to have Joel raise his hand.

“Is there anything else about her?” Joel questioned.

“Much more. She’s stubborn, at times reckless in her determination, and so damned courageous. But with all that’s happened to her, she still loves wholeheartedly, forgives when some wouldn’t, and is far too trusting for her own good.” Anthony looked into Joel’s eyes and saw . . . understanding.

“You’ve described my daughter perfectly. Better, perhaps, than those who have known her longer—but for one thing. Clairece has always been tremendously impulsive. She sees, she feels, she acts, and damn the consequences.”

Anthony choked back a laugh. “It’s her fervor for life.”

“Ah, you will find the same spontaneity in both her mother and aunt when you get to know them,” Joel supplied, his eyes lighting with humor.

“
If
I get to know them. After the hash I made of things, Clairece may want nothing to do with me.” Anthony rubbed his forehead. “God, I was so terrified. I pictured . . . in my mind I saw—” he choked, unable to finish.

“Son, if you’re trying to be the perfect friend, the perfect husband, the perfect father, you won’t succeed. No man can. Strive to be the best man you possibly can and it will be more than sufficient.” Joel crossed the room and joined the others.

After a moment, Anthony followed.

“Uncle Joel,” Phillip Michael enthused. “Chief Stallings was about to tell us about Jack the Ripper.”

“Was he, indeed?” Joel flicked a glance at Stallings.

“At Lord Phillip’s insistence,” Stallings added. “In 1887, I transferred to the newly formed Criminal Investigations Department at Scotland Yard to work under Howard Vincent. I was thirty years old and thought I’d seen about everything.” His gaze settled somewhere in the distant past, then, just as quickly, returned.

“Young for the CID,” Adrian suggested.

“We all were. The murders started in 1888 and the criminal was originally dubbed
The Whitechapel Murderer
. They were violent, brutal murders of women.”

“Whores and prostitutes,” Gerald mused.

Stallings voice took on a chill. “They were defenseless women. What the murderer did was so horrendous the papers dubbed him ‘Jack the Ripper.’” His gaze swung to the other men.

“Between 1888 and 1891, five women died at his hands. We suspect there were more. Frederic Porter Wensley was the detective assigned to find the Ripper. Although Wensley followed every lead, he was unable to definitively identify a suspect. The murders stopped and the case was officially closed in 1892, unsolved.”

“Could nothing more be done?” Adrian asked.

“The CID started taking photographic images of crime scenes in 1888. The procedure has proven much more efficient in identifying important facts which might otherwise have been missed, and helped in the conviction of many criminals.” Stallings sipped at his brandy. “In reference to the Ripper, no. The case is closed.”

“Some believe him to be an aristocrat and, therefore, outside the law,” James suggested.

“No one is outside the law, even those who seek to find justice in their own way.” Stallings emptied his glass in one gulp.

Adrian frowned. “What are you referring to?”

“A group of men, presumably noblemen, have formed an alliance to mete out justice when a crime committed by one of their own appears to go unpunished.” Stallings set his empty glass on the cart. “However, as to
our
repeat killer . . . it’s only a matter of time and we’ll have him.”

“Repeat killer?” Gerald’s head jerked up in surprise.

“Yes, the deviate responsible for the deaths of quite a few women in London and the recent murder here. A vile miscreant who cannot perform as a man unless the bugger sees pain and fear in the faces of his victims as he rapes and strangles them. But, we’re closing in,” Stallings finished casually.

The glass in Gerald’s hand shattered.

Anthony grabbed a towel from the beverage cart and latched onto Gerald’s wrist, carefully prying his fingers open. “My God, Gerald.”

“It’s nothing,” Gerald snapped, jerking his hand away. “Only a few small cuts.”

“What happened?” Anthony asked, handing Gerald the towel.

“I hadn’t heard—” Gerald hissed as he removed a deeply imbedded fragment from his palm.

“My apologies, Roxbury. The details of the murders are unsettling, but I can assure you, we will have our man soon.” Stallings came forward to view the injury. “You should have Farris look at your hand.”

“It’s not necessary,” Gerald insisted. “I would think a blighter with a scar on his face would be easy to find.”

“Ah,” Stallings uttered softly. “But he isn’t the one responsible.”

Gerald’s head whipped around. “You need to get your facts straight, Chief. Everyone knows the scar-faced bloke tried to kill Lady Harding and murdered the maid.”

“Not
everyone,
” Stallings voiced. “We’ll see what the scar-faced man has to say when he’s questioned.”

Gerald wrapped the towel around his injured palm. “You have him in custody?”

“Soon,” Stallings replied.

Gerald stared at his hand a moment before facing Anthony. “I must leave if I’m to catch the train.”

“When should we expect your return?”

His cousin smiled tightly. “Several days from now.”

After Gerald departed, Stallings motioned to Philippe and Rafael. “When will your men start their search?”

“At sunrise. If the man is in the vicinity, we will find him,” Rafael stated.

“Your men know to bring him in alive?” Stallings asked.

“
Si
. We understand what is at stake,” Rafael peered at Stallings. “But I would ask if you do?”