Love Between the Lines (29 page)

“
You tried to kill three women, didn’t you, Mr. Harrington? One in New York and two in London. Except you didn’t kill Miss Miles.”

“
We are composing your confession, not mine. You lost the will to keep working when the girl proved to be incoherent. But another interesting aspect occurred to me. You made me hurt that Miles girl so much, I made sure she can’t bear your name. Why hasn’t anyone seen that yet? You’ll have to put that down on paper. Go on, write it, and they’ll realize the truth. Miss Miles can’t tolerate your name, Trudy Tildon.”

“
They have witnessed that in her,” she said as she wrote.

“
Good.” He seemed pleased. “I enjoy compiling evidence. All those nights sitting up, building my trap. Writing and writing those records. I used my left hand to write sometimes. I was always good at that sort of evidence, and now I’m better. I’ve learned to be less obvious about spending money. That was what caught me last time. You saw the money and followed it. See? I set the clever traps this time, not you. I set the trail for Trudy Tildon to follow.”

“
Very clever,” she agreed. “But why did you harm Sir Gideon? You ruined his marriage plans; you’ve hurt the reputation of his newspaper.”
No,
you
did,
she thought and wondered if she would join Harrington on the good ship
Insanity
.

He almost
smiled, and for a moment she saw the shadow of the old family friend. “He was fool enough to take up with Trudy Tildon and lure her to England. He gets what he deserves. Enough chitchat. Write.”

She continued
to transcribe his dreary description of her crimes, all the details of how she’d hurt the girls, simply to invent a story to increase her fame.

“
Such a strange, convoluted plan,” she said.

He grinned; perhaps he thought she meant to compliment him.
“Here is what you did when that third girl managed to escape her bonds. She looked most like Trudy Tildon and had the least respectful manner. Don’t write that part. We need to discuss what you did with her fingers.”

She d
idn’t want to write his long, clinical descriptions of the crime—this firsthand tale made her sick—so she made another attempt to provoke him. “Tell me this. How was I supposed to have raped them? They found evidence of male fluid on all three of them.”

He waved a hand.
“Trudy Tildon, you are coarse. I think of the innocent you were and want to weep for my poor friend Drury. He doesn’t deserve—”

She interrupted.
“Yes, all right. But how did I manage to smear that substance on and in the girls?”

He smirked.
“Your big oaf, of course. He helped you and enjoyed himself as well.”

No. That
he’d try to hurt Oyster was too much. She wouldn’t write another word. She shuffled the papers. “Oh dear. I can’t find the first page.” With a tip of the board, she managed to spill the ink again—she tried to avoid getting any on the pages of her “confession.” She would get away from here and have a story to show Gideon. Whether or not anyone else ever saw it, she didn’t care. Gideon had to know the truth.

Harrington
rose with a disgusted grunt. “You stupid girl,” he said and reached out for the now empty ink bottle.

She knew how to survive
—Oyster had taught her ways to fight dirty. As Harrington leaned near her, she drove the pen up and into his eye.

His
howls made her skin crawl. That inhuman noise had to attract attention, even in the busy city.

Screaming,
Harrington stumbled away. He held his hand over his eye, and the horrible pen poked out between his fingers, still embedded in his eye. With his other hand, he groped on the floor. He grasped the knife and moved back to the bed, crying blood. He seemed to be trying to pull the pen from his eye.

“
Stop, Mr. Harrington, please,” she begged. “You must be in so much pain. You need help.” That was undoubtedly the understatement of the century.

He came at her with the knife
, and this time she hit him over the head with the writing board. He dropped the knife, and she snatched it up before he could find it again with his fumbling fingers.

S
creaming horrible obscenities, he leaned over her, both hands now grasping for her, clutching at her bare skin painfully, but she was so covered with ink she could slip from his fingers. Lizzy slid as far away from him as she could, concentrating only on freeing her other hand. She twisted to the side to slice at the cloth on her left wrist. As she moved, her knee knocked into him. He fell face forward across her legs and the bed—and this time the pen went all the way in.

He didn
’t move again.

For a long minute
, she lay still, listening to her own panting breaths. Then, quietly sobbing, she cut herself free from the restraint and stumbled from the bed. Her legs tingled so that they could barely hold her weight and pain throbbed through her cut hip.

S
he forgot all of the pain when she heard footsteps pounding up the stairs. Perhaps someone had at last summoned the police. But she had to stay safe. Harrington hadn’t said anything to her, but he must have had other people working for him. Smith the messenger, for one.

She faced the door
way, naked and covered with blood and ink, clutching the knife.

Smith stood
gaping at her. “Holy mother of God,” he said.

She held up the knife in warning
, but then she dropped it. Gideon came racing into the room behind Smith. Lizzy gave a cry of joy and flung herself at Gideon, before she recalled her bloody, filthy state. He must not have cared about getting dirty, because he pulled her close as she cried into his shirt.

They worked side by side. Gideon wrote the short public retraction and apology to Lord Ernest, Petersly, and other men who’d been harmed by the aspersions cast by a madman who’d created a dreadful and bloody plot of revenge—and then he added the words “see accompanying article”.

Lizzy
wrote the far longer accompanying article. As she worked, she cursed every now and then, glaring over at him.

“
Now what?” he asked. “Do you require more coffee?”

“
No. It’s this darn bed. I have already discovered that I do not like working in bed.”

The doctor insisted that she lie still in case the wound on her hip should become infected. Gideon insisted she not leave his presence
—so he’d dragged her to his house.

Oyster had carried her
all the way upstairs to Gideon’s bed, though she insisted she could walk.

Propped on a huge stack of pillows
now, she shifted irritably and jiggled the writing desk Gideon had placed on her lap.

“
This reminds me of Harrington’s room,” she grumbled. She blew on the bottom of the paper she’d just finished, picked up a blank sheet, and dipped her pen.

Gideon looked around at the carved wood paneling, the large windows he
’d opened at her command. “Granted, I didn’t spend as much time in that place as you did, but I fail to see the resemblance.”

“
I long to get up and walk, Gideon. I am serious. One more page and then you’ll move this thing off me and allow me to stand.”

He grunted and read through the piece he
’d just written. There had to be a better word than “abject.” Perhaps simply “apology” with no modifiers? Yes, that would be better.

He suspected she was in a bad mood because of Petersly
’s visit. The earl had declared he would be satisfied with the
Clarion
’s retraction only if Lizzy would accompany him to several fashionable events. “She must be willing to tell her story, and she will also announce she was mistaken about my presence at that house of pleasure.”

“
I wasn’t, you fool,” she’d said.

“
I might still cause trouble for you and your employer.”

“
Lizzy, do not agree to anything of the sort,” Gideon had interrupted. “We have some fine lawyers, and if Petersly wants to drag the matter through the courts, the
Clarion
will welcome the suit. Even if we lose, the publicity would be worth the costs. A lawsuit would do marvelous things for our subscription rate.”

Petersly had settled
for a retraction of the details of the article that turned out to be lies produced by Harrington. He also managed to get Lizzy to accept an invitation to two events he was to sponsor.

“
You come too, if you must,” he told Gideon as he bowed over Lizzy’s hand. He left, whistling—a sad imitation of one of Oyster’s tunes.

Lizzy growled down at the pen. “The nib is bent. I’m so frustrated, I pushed too hard. Let me get up, Gideon.”

He gave in
, as he’d known he would. Life with her would be a tug of war of power, and until he’d met her, he hadn’t known how much he enjoyed such contests of will. He lifted the desk from her lap and placed it on the floor.

She threw back the covers.
“That pest Petersly will keep after me even after I made it perfectly clear I’m not interested.”

Gideon grinned.
“I owe myself a pound.”

She eased her bare feet to the floor
, and he raced to help her stand.

“
What do you mean?” she asked as she limped across the carpet, one arm wrapped around his waist.

“
I bet myself that he was the source of your bad mood.”

The corners of her mouth twitched
, and he knew she fought a smile. “He’s a nuisance.”

“
I agree. Maybe the only solution is for you to marry. I’m not saying it will stop his pursuit, but it’s worth a try.”

She sagged
, and he had to grab her weight before she slumped to the floor. Under the thin gown she wore, her body was warm and far more rounded than he’d first thought. Such good curves.

She
let him support her as she continued her small steps across the room. “Marriage.” She sighed and pushed her head against his upper arm. “I suppose you’ll draft poor Brinker to take on yet another odious chore you want to avoid? Haven’t I told you I have no interest in him as a husband? He’s far too shocked by everything I do. He’s come into this room once since you dragged me up here and gave me such a sorrowful look.”

“
He feels sorry for you.”

“
I do too. But listen. I suppose if I understand you correctly—”

“
You do. We will be married. To each other,” he felt compelled to add.

“
Yes, and Gideon, I feel even more sorry for you.”

He pulled her in
to his arms for a long kiss. “Why do you think I deserve pity? I’m more than happy. I’ve felt nothing but pure joy since the moment I saw you were still alive. All blood and ink and snarling teeth—you were magnificent. You still are.”

“
You are happy now, but marriage is not an easy matter. I am not as amenable as my mother, and you are as stubborn as my father.”

“
I am no tyrant, Lizzy.”

She looked into his face,
studying it as if looking for some secret he had hidden in his eyes. “That’s true.” She wrapped both arms around his waist and gave another, happier sigh. “Yeah, you are usually fair, and you listen to a girl, don’t you? That’s such a pleasant habit. Don’t let me break you of it.”

He carefully balanced her weight and kissed her hard. “We will work together, but please, let us start with something small. Perhaps we might keep a journal of a honeymoon trip. France, perhaps?
”

“We can do better than that,” she said thoughtfully. “I have always wanted to travel. A journey around the globe.”

Dear God, he could just imagine the trouble she might cause when she got to India. “I shan’t allow you to tax your hip right away. I think we should be married long before we begin that voyage.”

She frowned
, and he waited for her objections, but she only leaned her head against his shoulder. “All right. We shall start with a journey around this room.”

They made another circuit
, walking with tiny steps, wrapped in each other’s arms. It might have been a sort of odd dance. By the end of it, Gideon was beyond ready to help her back into his bed and to join her in it.

Three months later
, New York City

“The party is entirely too large,” Lizzy grumbled to her mother.
“I don’t know most of these people.” She didn’t bother pointing out how peculiar that was for a party given in her honor.

Mama carefully adj
usted her wrap, a wispy bit of black lace. She wore a dull red silk gown with black trim. There were no feathers, no orange, no spangles, so apparently her new dresser knew what was appropriate for a matron, which Lizzy thought was a pity.

Her mother said,
“Our guests are an influential lot, for a change, and we lured them here with the promise they might meet a baronet. Really, if he is going to eventually open a New York office, it’s good for Gideon to be introduced to them. And do allow us to celebrate the return of our prodigal daughter. Your father is so relieved.” Mama smiled and gently tapped her foot in time to the music. “You have no idea how much this estrangement hurt him.”

Lizzy wanted to point out that it had hurt her as well
and was entirely his idea. Never mind. She would save her resentment for later, when she and Gideon were alone. He’d hold her and listen to her complain about her father. He’d probably even add his indignation to hers, forcing her to defend her father’s peculiar temperament and her mother’s passivity from an outsider. They’d performed such a scene more than once already.

Gideon had
managed to manipulate her into accepting an invitation to visit with her family using such underhanded methods.

“
What are you smiling about?” Her mother drew her arm through Lizzy’s, and they began to stroll across the crowded ballroom.

“I
’m thinking about Gideon.”

“Oh, it was
that
sort of a smile.”

“Mother!”

“Bah, you don’t need to act so shocked. You are not turning into a proper society matron, are you? I would hate that.” Her mother beamed and nodded at a guest who almost knocked into them as he danced his partner across the floor.

Lizzy
’s mother steered her in the direction of the French doors, which had been flung open to the cool evening breezes.

She said,
“So, Mama, you would hate it if I became a society matron. Would you be more or less upset than Father was when I didn’t become one?”

A lock of Lizzy
’s hair slid from the pins. She carefully tucked it back up but lost a rose from the elaborate decoration pinned to her head. Really she’d grown fond of shorter hair and would chop it again once she and Gideon left New York. Her mother picked up the rose that had fallen from Lizzy’s hair and stripped off a few petals. “When you put it like that, never mind. It’s just like that choice offered to Elizabeth Bennet, isn’t it? Forever be a stranger to one of your parents. Be whatever you want to be, my darling girl. I am only glad to have you back.”

“We
’re leaving in a week.” She had to warn her mother over and over, because Mrs. Drury kept referring to events they’d attend together in a month. “We don’t want to bore our readers by staying in one place too long.”

“You
’ll be back.” Her mother tossed the rose into the night, then leaned on the stone balustrade at the edge of the veranda. The breeze made the small lanterns flicker, creating a pretty play of light and shadow across the fountain.

She sighed. “
So much traveling! I know I have envied your talent often enough. And now I think I envy your adventures.”

Lizzy thought of the day she
’d ended up naked, trussed up in the hands of a madman. It could still make her start awake from a deep sleep. “Some of those adventures hardly counted as entertaining,” she said.

“
Yes, and envy is the wrong word. I admire you and your talents, and I do like the way your young man respects your wishes.”

“
It seems to me that Papa is much betterat tha
t
—
respecting your wishes, I mean.”

“Yes,” her mother said absently. “
He has been ever since I moved out.”

Lizzy stopped gazing at the
lights and stared at her mother instead. “You left Papa? When did that happen?”

Her mother straightened and looked around as if to make certain that none of the other people drifting through the door
s to the veranda and garden could overhear. “After you went to England, he caught me writing a letter to you. He went into his usual tirade about presenting a united front to you. And for me, something snapped at last. I told him I didn’t believe that a father’s love should be so fickle. I turned and walked out of the house. I’d saved enough money and I moved into a hotel.”

Mrs. Drury wore a grim smile and didn
’t meet Lizzy’s astonished stare. “He came begging. I made him kneel before me.”

“I cannot imagine,” Lizzy whispered.

Her mother’s smile vanished. “Yes, and soon after that came the news about what happened with you and Mr. Harrington.” She shook her head, and the light flickered on the diamonds in her ears. “That man had seemed unhinged the last time we saw him.”

“At the dinner you gave.”

“No, another time. I didn’t tell you about that encounter, because the topic upset you. We saw him at a play. He ranted at us about you and was so loud the management asked him to leave. He was not a well man, I knew that. But to murder those girls and try for you, oh, I cannot imagine…” Her mother’s face crumpled in distress.

“
The doctors say his illness fed on his anger.” Lizzy felt the familiar unpleasant shame and stomped on it. She had not forced him to steal money, she reminded herself for the thousandth time. She didn’t want to kill him and had only been defending herself.

“You were defending yourself.” Her mother still showed signs of being a mind reader
. For once she wasn’t gently pushing Lizzy to see the error of her ways or to try to understand her enemy’s point of view. Her mother sounded entirely fierce when she added, “I don’t regret his death at all. He was a terrible man.”

“Yes,” Lizzy agreed, but
even with her mother firmly on her side, she felt the guilt creep up her belly.

The light from the ballroom spilled over them both as someone parted the curtains and walked out on the veranda.
The curtains fell, the light dimmed, and the music grew distant again.

“Ah, there you are,” her mother said
to someone behind her. “Are you having a good time?”

Lizzy felt the air change
, the lingering unpleasant feeling lifted, and she knew that Gideon had come up behind her. He rested his gloved hand on her bare shoulder, and she rested her cheek against his hand for a moment and drew in a breath of Gideon. Just the faintest scent of him could improve her spirits.

“Several people
asked me where you ladies are going,” he said and gently squeezed her shoulder. “Are you abandoning your party? May I join you in your escape?”

“This is exactly the sort of event you planned to spend your life attending,”
Lizzy pointed out. “Sir Gideon the prosperous publisher loves these parties.” She couldn’t help her defensive tone. Soon after their marriage, she’d discovered that Trudy Tildon girl reporter was quite the sensation at these parties and she occasionally felt like a prize pig trotted out for the state fair. Her ability to remain anonymous was long gone. She still wrote worthwhile stories, however. In some ways, the stories were easier to find—people contacted her.

Gideon said,
“Oh, I don’t mind the crowds of strangers. It is simply that I miss you. I haven’t seen you in hours.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You and your mother keep running away.”

“You
two have my permission to run off together.” Her mother waved toward the back of the garden, where a gazebo loomed near the wrought iron fence. “Take a few minutes alone. I remember what it was like to be young. Go on. Other people might wander back there, so you mustn’t do anything too interesting.”

Lizzy wondered if ten minutes was too long. Her father wouldn
’t approve, but Gideon grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the stone steps that led to the path into the garden.

Yes, even if her father discovered they
’d vanished, it would be worth the temporary escape.

“Bless you,” Gideon
called back to Lizzy’s mother. “Ten minutes and no more.”

He
’d slowed down to talk, and Lizzy yanked his hand to move him along the gravel path. Compared to most of their adventures, exchanging a few kisses in a small garden was neither the most daring nor glamorous, but she laughed out loud at the delight of a few minutes alone with Gideon.

“I
’m glad I can amuse you when I haven’t said anything.” He squeezed her hand.

“Everything about you is amusing.” She
moved away from him to lean against the wall of the gazebo. The unpainted wood was rough on the bare skin of her shoulders.

“Really? Even this?” He
moved toward her, all glowing-eyed determination.

She attempted another laugh, but it came o
ut as a gasp. Lizzy felt breathless with anticipation—she always did when Gideon wore that intent expression and gazed at her.

“Perhaps amusing isn
’t the most accurate description for…this,” she admitted as he leaned in to claim his first kiss of the evening.

By the time they
’d sunk deep into that kiss, she’d decided on other words like
wicked, delicious, more,
and
mine, all mine
, but they’d stopped talking by then. For a few minutes, anyway, they both abandoned words.

The End