Almost a Princess (24 page)

Ruggles. He had vouched for them. And Ruggles wouldn’t take any chances with her safety. She trusted him.

Captain Cox said, “Here we are.”

The shutter in her mind snapped shut. Ahead of her was one of the many small pavilions that were dotted about the gardens, a place of refuge if it suddenly started to rain. The globe lantern hanging from the eaves had been lit, and there was a pale glaze of light spilling from inside the pavilion on to the gravel path. She felt safer where there was light.

“The chief would like a word in private with you first,” said Captain Cox gently. “Better leave this with me.”

“This” was her reticule with her pistol inside it. She was loath to give it up, but logic won over instinct. These men were from Special Branch. She was here to identify her husband’s body. If they wanted to hurt her, they would have done it by now.

She looked back the way they’d come. There was nobody there, no escort and no Ruggles. Her throat froze. Then Captain Cox’s hand was on the small of her back, propelling her into the pavilion.

“I’ll stand guard outside,” he said.

The man inside the pavilion was of medium height, but she couldn’t see his face because the lantern was behind him.

“Sit down, Miss Mayberry,” he said.

She sat on the wooden bench he indicated. Her stomach cramped when he took the few steps that separated them. He towered over her. Mustering her courage, she said, “Where is my husband’s body?”

He chuckled. “All in good time. May I say what a pleasure it is to meet you again, though our last encounter left something to be desired. I had not expected such spirit in a woman.”

Instinct and logic fused into one and flashed through her brain like a thunderbolt. This was the man who had set fire to her barn. She recognized his voice—the uninflected accent. There were no Special Branch agents. There was no body to identify. She’d walked into a trap and fallen right into the hands of Gideon Piers.

If she’d had her gun in her hand, she wouldn’t have shot him, she would have shot herself for being so stupid, stupid,
stupid.
She’d better get a grip on herself, better take her bearings and think up a way of getting away from him.
Don’t panic! Think!

Cox was standing guard outside the door. But where was Ruggles? And where were the others? If only she and Ruggles could get away, they could hide in the gardens until they were rescued. In her mind’s eye, she measured the distance to the door.

He chuckled. “I don’t know what’s going through your mind, Miss Mayberry, but you have nothing to fear from me, not unless you get in my way, and if you’re wise, you won’t do that again.”

Her breathing was hoarse and thick, making speech difficult. “Why should I believe you? You murdered that man in Hyde Park.” She winced at this further evidence of her stupidity. Now she’d put the thought of murder in his head.

“Collier? He deserved what he got. He was one of the Brothers and he betrayed me.” His voice took on a hard edge. “It was because of him that Castleton was able to ambush me.”

She was surreptitiously inching away from him, along the bench, toward the door. His justification for killing Collier hardly registered. In another moment—

“I wouldn’t try it!” he said sharply.

She froze. A moment of silence went by. All she could hear was her own panicked heartbeat.

He smiled, or she thought he smiled, for when he spoke, his voice was lighter. “Letty told me,” he said, “that very little frightens you.”

Letty was wrong. Gideon Piers terrified the life out of her. He was so calm, so much in command of the situation, while she could hardly control her breathing.

“Her letters were full of you,” he went on. “You were a good friend to her when she needed a friend.”

She hadn’t a clue what he was talking about, but she wasn’t going to argue with him. If he wanted to think well of her, so much the better.

Other things began to occur to her. He didn’t seem depraved, or evil, or anything like the monster she’d built him up to be in her mind. Not that that weighed with her. She’d been married to Jack Campbell, and she knew the value of charm. It was a salutary reminder. This man was a cold-blooded killer, capricious, unpredictable. Case had warned her never to underestimate him, and she wouldn’t.

On that resolve, she peered up at him, trying to make out his features in that dim light. It was too dark to see him clearly. He must have planned it like this, because the light from the lantern was shining full on her face. It gave him an advantage.

Schooling her features to show nothing, she said, “Why have you brought me here, Mr. Piers? Your man, Cox, told me it was to identify my husband’s body. But that was a ruse, wasn’t it?”

“I brought you here for two reasons. The first was to pay off a debt I owe Castleton.
Sit down, Miss
Mayberry.
”

She wasn’t aware that she’d half risen from the bench. She automatically obeyed his command.

“A debt of honor is what I meant,” he said.

“Honor?” she stammered.

When he took a step back, she began to breathe a little more easily. “Yes, honor. I don’t know how much Castleton has told you about Spain, but before our last pitched battle, he allowed the women and children to leave. He’s not the only one who understands chivalry. One good turn deserves another is what I say. Now he and I are quits. I want him to know it.”

She didn’t understand a word of this. “And the second reason?” she asked.

“As I said, one good turn deserves another. You were a good friend to my sister. I shall be a good friend to you. You have a husband you don’t want. I’ll fix that for you. Campbell will never trouble you again. All you have to do is say the word and you’ll be a widow. Think about it, Miss Mayberry. You’ll be free to marry again. Oh, not Castleton, I’m afraid. I have other plans for him.”

He sounded so reasonable, so gentlemanly. He was offering to murder Jack, yet he might have been offering to do nothing more sinister than hail a hackney for her.

One thing was becoming clear, though. She was going to get out of this alive. Her stomach stopped churning. Her nerves steadied.

“Thank you,” she said, “but I’d rather not go to that extreme. I have no wish to marry again, not Lord Castleton or . . . or anyone.”

“Fine, then I’ll kill the other man.”

Now she was completely at a loss. “What other man? What are you talking about?”

He shook his head. “Perhaps I haven’t made myself clear. Out there are two men whose fate hangs in the balance. One of them will live, the other will die. The choice is yours to make.”

Her lips felt frozen. She made them move. “Jack. You have Jack?”

“Yes. Didn’t I say so?”

The other man must be Ruggles. He had Jack and Ruggles, and one of them had to die. The words were torn from her. “Why kill either of them? They’re not mixed up in your vendetta with Lord Castleton.”

His voice was rich with amusement. “My dear Miss Mayberry, I didn’t have you brought here tonight so that we could exchange pleasantries. I wanted to give Castleton a message. If I let you walk out of here unscathed, he’ll think I’ve lost my nerve. Don’t take too long to decide or I’ll kill both of them.”

Weak with fear and horror, she watched him leave. He didn’t mean it. No one could be that fiendish. Letty said that there was good in him, that all he needed was another chance.

And Case said the opposite.

She struggled to her feet as the lamp outside the door went out. Paralyzed by indecision, she stood there, not knowing what to do. For one moment more, she hesitated, then, snatching up the lantern, she ran outside.

She didn’t go far. There was nothing to guide her, no lights, except her own wavering lantern, no sound except the wind in the trees. “Piers!” she screamed. “Piers! Don’t do this! Letty—”

The words were drowned out by the blast of a pistol shot. Her head whipped round to where the sound had come from. “Oh, no,” she moaned. “Oh, no!”

She steeled herself for the second shot, and when it didn’t come, she began to run. She plunged into a thicket of bushes, yanked herself free when she became tangled in thorns, and ran on. Ahead, she could just make out a small clearing. Her steps slowed when she smelled the acrid stench of gunpowder, and she halted altogether when her lantern picked out a grotesque heap on the ground. A moment went by, then another. Finally, she made her feet move.

He was lying on his back, bound hand and foot and gagged. His eyes were still open and a dark pool of blood stained the front of his coat.

It was Jack.

She put out a trembling hand to touch him, then quickly snatched it back. He was dead. She didn’t have to touch him to know it.

A sob caught in her throat. Oh, my God! What had she done?

She put back her head. “Ruggles!” she yelled at the top of her lungs. “Ruggles!”

Ears straining, she listened. No response. Then close by her, a twig cracked. Something Case once told her gripped her mind. Piers, he said, liked to play cat-and-mouse games.

Oh where was Ruggles and what had they done to him?

She had to get out of here! She had to get help!

She heard another twig snap and her heart leaped to her throat. Was it her turn next?
Easy!
she told herself.
Don’t panic. Don’t provoke him into doing anything.
Take your time. Slip away. Just get out of here and get help.

“Ruggles!” she called again. “Ruggles!”

As though she were searching for him, she retraced her steps. Once in the thicket of thorns, she set her lantern on the ground. She was loath to part with it, but to keep it with her was too dangerous. It would only give her away.

Moving as soundlessly as she could manage, she began to flit from tree to tree. Occasionally, she paused to listen, but no one seemed to be giving chase. She knew she wasn’t going in circles, because she stayed close to the gravel path. The darkness there was less dense and she used that paler ribbon of shadows to guide her.

Two things happened at once She stumbled over the root of a tree, and another shot went off, far, far behind her.
Ruggles!
her mind screamed. Her nerve broke. She was on her feet in a flash, caution forgotten as blind panic took over. She began to run. She did not look back once. She was aware of nothing but her feet flying over gravel and the need for greater speed if she were to save herself.

Then she head a sound that made her heart lurch, not in fear but with renewed hope. “Lance?” she called out. “Lance?”

He came bounding down the path and fairly leaped at her. Her arms around him, she sank to her knees.

“Jane! Where are you?”

Case’s voice. “Over here.”

Lanterns flickered through the trees. A minute or two later, Case was beside her. Heaving herself up, she threw herself into his arms. “They’ve killed Jack,” she cried. “Oh, Case, they’ve killed Jack and I think they’ve killed Ruggles too.”

“It’s all right, I’m here,” he said. “Now tell me what happened.”

Case sent Jane with an escort of men to wait for him at the hostelry across the road. She wanted him to go with her and let constables and Runners look for Ruggles. He couldn’t be persuaded. All he wanted from her were directions to where she’d found Jack’s body. She wasn’t sure, but Lance seemed to have picked up the scent of something. He kept running along the path, then coming back for them as though he wanted them to follow.

As soon as Jane left, Case put a leash on Lance, and after telling the men to fan out and keep their guns at the ready, he set off. Waldo walked beside him, holding the lantern to guide their steps.

Waldo said, “So what message is Piers giving us this time?”

“Same as always. That he’s the puppet master and we’re the puppets. I’ll know more when I speak with Jane.”

“This was different, more elaborate.”

“I know, which leads me to believe that he’s growing impatient. The end of the game is near. He wouldn’t stir up so much trouble unless he was ready to disappear into thin air again.”

“The reunion?”

“I hope so, Waldo, otherwise we’re chasing our tails.”

They stopped talking because Lance was now straining at the leash. Case let him have his head and had to run to keep up with him, but when he saw the clearing ahead, he reined Lance in, then snapped out a command when Lance refused to obey him. Lance whined and looked up at Case as if willing him to give a different command.

“Take Lance,” Case said to Waldo, “and give me the lantern.”

“Be careful,” said Waldo. “It could be a trap.”

“Then keep me covered.”

There were two bodies in the clearing. Case removed his glove and touched Campbell’s face. It was cold. He had died some time ago, but rigor mortis had yet to set in. He moved to the other man and found himself staring into the face of Lord Reeve. There was no shock of recognition. This was what he’d expected to find. Like Campbell, Reeve was cold. It seemed to Case that they’d both been killed somewhere else and brought here.

He got up. He stared at Campbell’s face with its hideously surprised expression, but he could not dredge up one drop of regret or pity. If he had any regrets it was that Ruggles’s body wasn’t lying there too.

Chapter 21

Jane shook her head in disbelief. “What do you mean they were cold? That doesn’t make sense. I heard two shots. Piers had them shot because I wouldn’t choose.”

Case went down on his haunches in front of her chair and clasped her hands. She was trembling and her face was white with fatigue and dread. She blamed herself for what had happened to Campbell and Reeve. For himself, he considered the world well rid of them, but this was not what Jane needed to hear right now.

“Listen to me, Jane,” he said. “They were murdered somewhere else, and their bodies were brought to Vauxhall. Piers was playing a game with you. You had nothing to do with their deaths.”

“You wouldn’t lie to me?”

“I swear I’m telling the truth.”

“Oh, God!”

A shudder ran through her, then her face crumpled, and she convulsed in tears. Case would have drawn her into his arms, but she shrank away from him. He straightened and looked down at her helplessly. When she began to sniff, trying to stem the tide of weeping, he put his handkerchief into her hand. Lance was pressed against her legs, and she seemed to take more comfort from her dog than she did from him.

They were in a private parlor of the White Horse Hostelry, overlooking the entrance to Vauxhall Gardens, though all that could be seen from the window were its high walls. They hadn’t called in the authorities. As far as Case was concerned, Campbell’s and Reeve’s bodies could stay there, undisturbed, till kingdom come. They’d made a fatal mistake when they’d tried to make Jane their victim. Piers’s methods had been more drastic than those he was willing to employ, but the result was the same. Jack Campbell would never trouble Jane again.

Eventually, the authorities would come calling, but later rather than sooner if he had his way. He didn’t want them connecting Jane to what had happened at Vauxhall tonight. With luck, they might never get around to questioning her. Few people knew that she was married to Campbell.

Her shoulders gave one last, convulsive heave, she blew her nose, then looked up at him. “Where are Waldo and the others?”

“Downstairs. I sent a man to Woodlands to let everyone know that we’d found you, safe and sound. I found your reticule, or I should say Lance found it and brought it to me. Your pistol is still in it, but it’s been disarmed.”

She nodded, only half listening. She couldn’t make sense of what Case had told her. Ruggles was a Judas. He was one of them. Case had found two bodies, but one was Lord Reeve’s. She couldn’t get her mind around it all. She remembered her terror when the shots went off. But Jack and Reeve?

“Why?” Her voice was uneven. “Why would Piers do such a thing? What’s the point? Why kill Jack and Reeve? What have they to do with anything?”

“Because they got in his way. I’m only guessing, but I think Piers decided they could foil his plans for me, especially Campbell. Maybe he thought I’d call Campbell out or vice versa, and one of us would be killed. Either way, it would take me out of the drama, and Piers can’t allow that to happen.”
No,
he thought,
he’s saving that pleasure for himself
.

“But to lure me to Vauxhall . . . what was the point in that? Why not leave their bodies in a deserted alley?” The thought had her shivering again.

“Where’s the drama in that? The thing you have to remember about Piers is that he’s like an actor, playing to the gallery. He feeds on applause.”

“I’m not applauding!” she burst out.

He smiled at the outburst, glad to see that she was coming back to herself. “Aren’t you?”

“No. I’m lost for words! He’s the most diabolical specimen of humanity that I’ve ever come across.”

“And Piers would be delighted to hear you say so.”

She stared at him for a moment, then said slowly, “And what would you say, Case? Would you applaud?”

He gave a twisted smile. “Most assuredly. He’s shaken me to my very foundations. I didn’t know what to expect tonight when I got to Vauxhall.”

She was suddenly weepy again, and groped for his handkerchief to blow her nose again. That done, she said fiercely, “I will
not
turn into a watering pot.”

“You’re in shock,” he said gently. “No more arguments. You’re going to drink that brandy.”

Her untouched glass of brandy was on the mantelpiece. He reached for it and put it into her hands. Under his watchful stare, she took a sip, then another. He pulled a chair up to hers and sat down.

“More,” he said sternly, and she obeyed.

Warmth spread through her and she stopped shivering. Staring at the amber liquid in her glass, she said softly, “I liked Ruggles.”

“Didn’t we all?” He couldn’t disguise his bitterness.

“You don’t think,” she looked up at him, “you don’t think that you could be mistaken about him?”

“Not a chance. Ask Harper if you don’t believe me. What?” he asked when she shook her head.

“He must have been passing on information. But how could he? He seemed to be at Woodlands all the time.”

“But he wasn’t. He divided his time between Woodlands and the Albany. I’m sure he had a system set up to pass on anything of interest. And no one questioned his comings and goings. But tonight his system failed.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Harper. Ruggles expected to be on duty tonight. He must have had the shock of his life when I told him that Harper would be taking over. Harper would have known at once that those Special Branch agents were imposters.”

She shivered and took another sip of brandy. “He told me,” she said, “that he was saving to buy his own little tavern, where he could keep a dog.”

He made a small sound of derision. “I’m sure he thinks Piers will give him the money to achieve his heart’s desire.”

“But you don’t think so?”

He looked at her pale face with its lines of exhaustion and decided not to tell her what he really thought, that Ruggles was expendable. Piers wouldn’t leave witnesses behind who could identify him, unless he was sure of their loyalty. That was one thing that eased his mind. Piers had taken a great deal of trouble to keep his face hidden from Jane tonight.

Or was this another ruse to keep him guessing?

She looked at him, waiting for an answer. “I don’t really know,” he said.

There was a desperate edge in her voice. “When is it all going to end?”

He wasn’t going to tell her that he thought it would end on Saturday, at the reunion. He didn’t want her to show up uninvited. Above all, he wanted to keep Jane safe and out of it.

He shrugged. “Soon. But not before Piers and I meet face-to-face.”

“Face-to-face?” she said faintly.

“It’s inevitable. I’m the audience he wants to impress most. He’ll want to lord it over me, throw in my face how clever he’s been. Don’t look so worried. I’m a lot cleverer than he thinks I am.”

She took a mouthful of brandy before she was aware of what she was doing, and had to choke it down. She didn’t like the sound of this. She had a picture in her mind of two gladiators squaring off in a Roman arena.

“Why do you hate each other so much?” she whispered.

He didn’t answer at once, but reaching into his pocket he produced a cheroot and lit it from the candle on the table. “Do you mind?” he asked belatedly, holding up the cheroot.

She shook her head.

He inhaled, blew out a stream of smoke, then stood on the hearth with his back to the fire. “It’s not a question of hate,” he said, “not for me. It never was. As I told you, in Spain, I was given the task of rooting out a band of men who were worse than savages. I won’t go into the details of their crimes. It’s enough to know that they were vicious. We were seasoned soldiers, yet our stomachs turned at the sights we saw. And God help you if you were a British officer and fell into Piers’s hands. Then he was barbaric.

“Piers thought he was invincible. I proved him wrong. I beat him at his own game using his own methods, or so I thought. Until he turned up in London and murdered John Collier.”

“And now he’s after you.”

“That’s one way of putting it. I like to think that I’m the one who is after him.”

He walked to the sideboard and poured himself a large brandy. After taking two healthy swallows, he returned to his chair. “Jane,” he said, “I know this has been a night of horrors, but do you think you’re up to going over your story again? I want to hear it while it’s still fresh in your mind. Then I’ll take you home.”

In spite of all he’d told her, she still had that picture in her mind of two gladiators measuring each other in a Roman arena before the first blow was struck.

“Jane.”

She looked up at him with a start. “Of course. If it will help.”

“It may.”

“The odd thing is,” she said, “he seemed quite gentlemanly, oh, I don’t mean in his dress, but in his manner and way of speaking. He even spoke of chivalry. He owed you a debt of honor, he said, because you’d allowed the women and children to leave before your last battle. And now you were quits. What did he mean by that?”

“I suppose that he’s done the same for me. He proved that he could have killed the women in my life, you, Amelia, La Contessa, but he spared you, just as I spared the women in his camp.”

“He has an odd sense of chivalry! I was terrified out of my wits!”

This was better. He liked to see her with her spirit intact. “I know. But he spared you. Even tonight, he spared you.”

“And now, I suppose,” she said crossly, “with all the courtesies out of the way, you can kill each other with a clear conscience!”

“Something like that.” He took a sip of brandy so that she couldn’t see his smile, though why he was smiling, he hadn’t the faintest idea. It had been a harrowing night. “Tell me about Letty again,” he said. “What was that all about, that you’d been a good friend to her?”

“Nothing that comes to mind. We were good friends. He said her letters were full of me.”

“But you never met him.”

“No. He was in Spain by the time I joined St. Bede’s. Letty wrote to him regularly, but he hardly ever wrote to her. Then his letters stopped altogether.” She gave a bitter little laugh. “Letty thought he’d died a hero’s death.”

After an interval of silence, he said, “Go on.”

“Then,” she swallowed hard, “he said that one good turn deserved another, and since I’d been such a good friend to Letty, he would make me a widow.”

“He lied, Jane. Believe me, he lied. He didn’t kill Campbell to reward you for being a good friend to his sister. Piers does everything out of self-interest. Campbell was a nuisance, a liability. That’s why Piers killed him. And being Piers, he had to make a spectacle of it. So don’t blame yourself for Campbell’s death.”

That’s exactly what she was doing. She couldn’t help feeling responsible.

As though reading her mind, Case said, “Do you blame yourself for Reeve’s death, too?”

“No. I don’t understand why Piers killed him.”

“For the same reason he killed Campbell. He got in his way. This charade tonight wasn’t for you. It was for me. He wants me to think that he’s invincible.”

“But you don’t think that, do you, Case?”

“No. I beat him once and I’ll do it again. Now, go on with your story.”

She went through it again and again, but the only thing that stuck in her mind was Piers promising to make her a widow.

They arrived at Woodlands just as the first glimmer of dawn rimmed the horizon. They’d hired a chaise at the hostelry for Jane and Lance, but the men were on horseback. When Case opened the chaise door it was to find both Jane and Lance fast asleep, and none too pleased when they were forcibly removed. His aunt, looking as though she’d aged ten years, was still waiting up for them. Jane did not stir. He carried her to her bedchamber, set her on the bed, and pulled the coverlet over her.

He took a moment to study her. There was still very little color in her cheeks and there were dark shadows under her eyes. She looked as helpless and defenseless as a child.

It would have been better for her if she’d never met him. Maybe it would have been better for him as well. She wouldn’t be suffering like this, and he wouldn’t be worrying about her.

That wasn’t the only thing that gnawed at him. Piers had done him no favors by removing Campbell from the scene. If anything, the reverse was true. Jane felt so guilty, she couldn’t bear to have his arms around her. She wouldn’t allow him to comfort her. He’d told her he loved her and she couldn’t say the words back to him. There was something else. He was wishing he’d kept his mouth shut, wishing he’d never told her about Spain and the kind of man he’d been then. He’d never told his own father, whom he was close to, or his brother. He’d never told Robert or Freddie. So what in the name of Hades had possessed him to reveal that dark and secret part of him to someone as decent and innocent as Jane?

And she was decent and innocent in his eyes. He supposed the world would call her his mistress. Well, the world could go to hell.

All the pent-up frustration inside him gradually slipped away. Jane was exactly as he wanted her to be. He would have been repelled by a woman who jumped for joy because someone had murdered a husband she hated, and if anyone had a right to jump for joy, it was Jane. She was sensitive and felt things deeply. She needed time to adjust, time to come to terms with her feelings of guilt, misplaced guilt, in his opinion. It was the same with her reaction to what he’d told her about Spain. Even he found it hard to come to terms with the man he’d been then. Why should he expect more of Jane? Some women, he knew, were attracted to the dark and brutish side of men, but those women had never appealed to him. To win the love of this woman was something worth striving for.

He pressed a kiss to her brow. “You’re the only woman for me,” he said softly, “and I’m the only man for you. We’ll work things out.”

She sighed softly, but did not waken.

But first, he had to deal with Piers. Only one of them would survive this final battle, and he was determined it would be he. He had so much to live for.

On that thought, he went in search of his aunt. He had very little to say to her except that she should put last night our of her mind. Campbell did not come to the house. There was no scene. There were no Special Branch agents arriving to take Jane to Vauxhall. And if anyone called her a liar, she was to refer them to him.