Lady Killer (47 page)

“Have you looked at Which House?” Ian hazarded. “Perhaps she just went home for a few things.”

“That is right,” Miles said, brightening considerably. “Perhaps she just went home. Good idea. Corin, you go to Which House and—why are you shaking your head?”

“That was what I was coming to tell you, sir. Messenger came from Which House wondering where you two and Toast and the pup were. Said you had promised to come this morning so you could all celebrate together, but you had yet to appear.”

For a moment, Miles just stood and ground his teeth. Then he started staring around the room like a crazy man. He bent on his knees and began crawling around, peering under the furniture.

“She is rather small, but not that small, my lord,” Corin told him gently.

“I am looking for the puppy. He can find her. If she has Toast with her.”

“The puppy wasn’t here when I came up to clear the table earlier. He must have followed after them,” Corin said, grimacing.

Miles got to his feet with the clear intention of wringing Corin’s neck, but Ian stepped in front of him. “Before we do anything else, I think you should inform Mariana and Lady Alecia that you are terminating the betrothal,” Ian suggested. “Since your wedding was to take place in fifteen minutes.”

“You are right,” Miles nodded and began to head out the door.

Tristan and Sebastian blocked his way.

“I might also suggest that you put on some clothes,” Ian continued. When he saw Miles about to argue, he added quickly, “Not for the chapel. Who cares what they think? For the search. In case our search requires us to ride, for example.”

“Or leave the house,” Crispin added.

Miles was dressed in two minutes. Trailed by his cousins, he quickly made his way to the family chapel in the bottom corner of his house. There was a sizeable number of guests all of whom grew very silent as Miles and the Arboretti marched down the aisle toward the front where Mariana, Lady Alecia, and Sir Edwin were standing.

“I just wanted you to know that I am not marrying Mariana,” he told Lady Alecia. Then he turned to Sir Edwin. “Congratulations, sir. This house is yours. The roof on the east wing needs repair before winter. Good day.” He turned to go, when Lady Alecia’s clawlike hand closed on his arm.

“What are you talking about? Is it because of Saunders? Because he was a murderer? You can hardly blame my sweet Mariana for that.”

“Saunders was not a murderer,” Mariana said. “He was just pretending to be the vampire. He just stuck that woman from the fair in the neck for fun and paid her to lie still so I would be afraid. It was a game, Viscount. He was not a killer.”

Miles was so startled by this information that he momentarily forgot what he was doing there. But then he thought of what Clio would make of it, and that he had better tell her immediately, which reminded him that he did not know where she was. “It is not about Saunders. It is because I love your other granddaughter Clio and I want to marry her.”

Lady Alecia’s face grew mean and pinched. “You would sacrifice all this,” she gestured around with her hand, but ended up at Mariana, “for that stupid, trouble- making girl?”

“It is no sacrifice,” Miles said. “I am the clear winner.”

“You are my boy, you are,” Sir Edwin said jovially. “Let me—”

“Shut up, Edwin,” Lady Alecia ordered, but her eyes did not leave Miles. “You cannot have Clio. You can never have her.”

“What are you talking about?” Miles demanded.

“I’ve taken care of Clio once and for all,” Lady Alecia said gleefully. “She is gone. Gone. She will never meddle in my affairs, never disobey me, never look at me with those wicked eyes again. Me or anyone else.”

“I demand you explain what you mean.”

“I exchanged her for something I wanted,” Lady Alecia explained. “And there is nothing you can do about it.”

Miles sensed that Lady Alecia would not elaborate unless compelled. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Tell me what you did with Clio or I shall have Mariana arrested for assisting at a murder.”

“You bad, bad baby bear,” Mariana said, starting up. “It is my birthday.”

“Shut up, Edwin,” Lady Alecia put in before her son could even open his mouth.

“Lady Alecia, where is Clio?” There was something about Miles’s tone that made the entire chapel go very still.

“She is with Captain Black. It seems that she managed to antagonize him and he wanted her dead. He offered to relieve me of a three-thousand-pound gambling debt in exchange for my promise not to undertake an inquiry when her mangled body was found.” Noticing Miles’s expression, she added, “Oh, he did not use the word mangled. I did. I suggested it. I said I would only take the offer if her body was mangled. She mangled enough of my plans in her lifetime.”

“You traded Clio for three thousand pounds?” Miles asked with horror.

“And her hair,” Mariana corrected. “Grandmother made them promise not to do anything to harm her hair. I overheard her.”

Lady Alecia smiled and patted Mariana on the arm. “She is quite right. I have always had a fancy for Clio’s hair. It is a pity I could not have it today. I really had hoped to wear it for the wedding.”

Miles was assailed by a wave of queasiness. He forced it aside. “Where did Captain Black take Clio?”

“I don’t know. I have never met the man, only his representative. That charming man, Justin. He used to whistle outside my window to give me messages,” she explained. Comprehension dawned on Sir Edwin’s face, but before he could give voice to it, Lady Alecia went on. “You really cannot blame me, Viscount. It is Clio’s fault that she upset a man as powerful as Captain Black. He was going to kill her anyway. I just chose to profit from it.”

“I knew Clio would find a way to ruin my birthday,” Mariana put in then. “I am sure she upset that man on purpose just to make sure she had all the intention.”

“Attention,” Lady Alecia corrected.

If he had not had something better to do, it was likely that at that moment Miles would have been guilty of murder. Instead, he turned on his heel and began marching out the way he had marched in. Sir Edwin called after him and Miles turned to see what he wanted, but the man was too busy being chastened by Lady Alecia to say anything. When Miles turned back, the chapel door was blocked by Inigo.

He stood with his hands on his hips, glaring with all the power in his twelve-year-old-boy frame at Miles.

“What is wrong?” Miles demanded.

From behind Miles, a voice said, “He thinks you are the one responsible for sending Clio to Captain Black’s and he wants to make you pay for it. He has come to challenge you to a duel and wants to know whether you prefer pistols or swords.”

Inigo began to nod, and Miles turned to look at Sebastian. His cousin had often demonstrated an amazing ability to decipher codes and understand languages, but never to make sense of silence. “How did you know that?”

“I am not sure. I can just tell. Apparently he followed Clio from here last night—don’t worry, I won’t tell her,” Sebastian paused to address the boy, “and saw her taken to Captain Black’s. Then, this morning he saw someone in Dearbourn livery go there to make sure she had been captured. I think you should explain that you did not do it, and that, if he leads us to Clio, you will rescue her.”

Inigo’s posture relaxed and he looked inquiringly at Miles.

“It’s true,” Miles told him. “I did not send that servant. Where is she?”

Inigo looked at Sebastian, who frowned for a moment. “Captain Black has her in his house on London Bridge. The large house in the center. There are guards and dogs. Big guards.” His eyebrows shot up. “
Very
big guards. And lots of dogs. Oh, and pirates.”

“Excellent,” Tristan commented. “I haven’t seen a pirate in ages.”

“Do you hear that, Clio?” an oily voice inquired from Clio’s right. Her blindfold prevented her from seeing the pasty face and the pointed red beard of the speaker, and from being blinded by the bright scarlet sash covered in golden medallions he always wore. It also kept her from having to look at the multitude of animals, stuffed and attached to boards, that hung on every inch of wall space in the tower room—every space apart from the empty one reserved especially for Toast—but she could picture all of it well enough. Captain Black and his collection made an indelible impression on the memory. “You hear those bells?” he asked again. “I left the window open especially so you would be able to hear. Those are your cousin’s wedding bells. Perhaps you thought the wedding was not going to take place? The bells would not be ringing if Dearbourn had not gone through with it.”

“How interesting,” Clio remarked. “I thought you were going to kill me. I do wish you would hurry. I feel as though I have spent the past twenty-four hours waiting for someone to kill me and it is getting tedious.”

“Perhaps it would be less tedious if I removed your blindfold. That way you could watch as I run you through with my sword.”

After the careful machinations of Saunders, Captain Black seemed positively pedestrian as a villain. “I’ve never been run through with a sword before, so I would not know. Do whatever you think is best.”

Captain Black frowned. He did not like Clio Thornton. He had expended a great deal of time, money, and manpower trying to capture her and her monkey, consoling himself for each new expenditure with the assurance that killing her would be a pleasure. It had been her idea, after all. The words “only if I were dead” with regard to his possession of that delightful little specimen Toast who was now furiously jumping around in his cage and would soon grace the wall behind his desk, had been spoken from her own lips. The least he could do, Captain Black had told himself as he waited for her to be brought in, was oblige her. He had looked forward to this moment with relish. But it was proving to be far less interesting than he had planned.

Frankly, he was hoping for a bit more of a reaction from the girl. Killing people was what he loved to do, it was how he had gotten his start years earlier, and now, what with the constraints of running all his nefarious businesses, he rarely got a chance to take a life with his own hands. When the opportunities are scarce, you must enjoy them to their utmost, he knew, and decided that for this to be enjoyable, he needed Clio to grovel.

“You know it is your monkey I am interested in, not you. And I owe you something for getting the vampire. He killed one of my best operatives.”

“Lady Starrat,” Clio said.

“Yes. Damn shame. Perhaps if you beg for mercy, I shall grant you your life,” he suggested.

“I doubt it,” Clio replied. She could not see what it would benefit her anyway. Without Miles, without Toast, what good was her life? Although, perhaps if she lived, one day someone would kill her just for herself, on her own merits, rather than to get revenge on someone else.

Captain Black decided to try a new tactic. “The less cooperative you are, the more painful I shall make this.”

“I am not sure how much more cooperative I could be. I am just sitting here, in this chair. I have put up no fight at all,” Clio pointed out. “Are you asking me to run myself through with the sword? If that is what you want, you shall have to untie me. I read in a book once that stabbing yourself through the heart requires both hands.”

“This is nothing to jest about,” Captain Black insisted.

“I was not jesting. The book really said that. It also had some very useful tips on skinning rabbits.”

“If you are trying to delay until Dearbourn comes to save you, you delay in vain. Even if he were to come, which he will not, I have an entire kennel of dogs outside to alert me of his presence, and a dozen guards. There is no way he could reach you before you died.”

“I do not expect him to come. Weren’t those his wedding bells we just heard? It would hardly be suitable for a bridegroom to leave the side of his bride.”

“Good. I am glad you understand. Now, prepare yourself to die.”

In his cage in the corner of the room, Toast gave a low keening sob, and Clio felt a sharp pang of sadness. Yesterday Toast had helped save her life and today there was nothing she could do to save his. She could not believe that after everything, her life had come down to this, this horrible man, this inconsequential ending. Clio had never felt she needed rescuing before, but she realized that she had indeed been listening for the barking of dogs, for the noise of a scuffle on the stairs. For the sound of someone who cared about her coming to her aid. But there was no noise. No sound. Nobody.

“Good-bye, Clio Thornton,” Captain Black said, and she could sense him hoisting up his sword as clearly as if she could see it, could sense him getting ready to rush toward her. Could sense him hesitating, turning around, gasping in surprise. Could sense him backing up, raising his sword, but at a different adversary now.

“How did you get in?” Captain Black demanded, and Clio could tell from the way he was huffing that he was dodging thrusts from a rapier as he spoke.

“I let myself in the back way,” Miles explained. His voice was smiling.

“But the kennels—” Captain Black panted.

Swords clanged against each other. “One of my cousins is a marvel with dogs.”

“Dearbourn, listen,” Captain Black began. His voice was oily again and Clio had the feeling that he was waiting for something.