Never Run From Love (Kellington Book Four) (28 page)

Mel wouldn’t have expected that question even from
her blunt American friends.  She stammered as she thought of a response.

“Lizzie, you’re terrible!” said Jane, whose laughing
eyes softened any rebuke.  “Can’t you at least allow poor Miss Sutton to take
tea before interrogating her?”

“If this were an interrogation, I would let Vanessa
do the questioning,” said Lizzie, who then explained for Melanie’s benefit.  “She’s
one of the top agents at the Home Office and really quite brilliant.  Jane here
is the best surgeon you could ever hope to meet.  She’s certainly been a
Godsend with my roiling stomach.  And please forgive me for being so blunt. 
But we’ve never heard Hal talk about a woman the way he does about you.  We’ve
been intrigued and, well, hopeful.”

“Why hopeful, my lady?” asked Mel, trying not to let
her own hopes show.

“Please don’t ‘my lady,’ me.  I’m Lizzie.  It’s been
rare these past several months to hear Hal talk about anything at all that didn’t
have to do with drinking, gaming and his adventures with Charles Francis.  But
suddenly he’s courting an eligible lady and engaging in a mission to help
others.”

“All of us in the family have been most curious to
meet you,” said Vanessa.  “And, as you might imagine, I would like to hear more
about your investigation into the disappearances of the women.”

“I’m afraid much of it is not fit for the ears of
ladies,” said Mel.

Jane smiled broadly.  “I cannot imagine you’ll tell
me anything I didn’t see near the front lines in Belgium.  We are none of us
shrinking violets.  Please tell us what you know so we can help.”

Mel wasn’t sure their husbands or Hal would be too
keen about them becoming involved, but she filled them in on the details.  “I
am appalled to be responsible for the disappearance of Miss LaRue.  I pray that
we’re not too late to help her and I want very much to find the villain
responsible for her disappearance and any other women he may have abducted.

“I think you take blame that is not warranted,” said
Vanessa.  “You’ve helped a great many women start new lives.  We will do what
we can to find Miss LaRue and the others.  Indeed, your information will prove
to be most helpful.  Now we know her plans for the last few days anyone saw
her.  If we send investigators to the docks, we may get some answers.”

“I wish I could go there myself,” said Lizzie.  “But
I fear I would not survive the carriage ride without being unwell.  Now,
Melanie, you must tell us about this Richard Parker fellow.”

“My la…Lizzie?”

“Mr. Parker,” said Lizzie.  “Or, as Hal likes to
call him, ‘that suspicious Parker fellow.’  Why is he suspicious and why does
Hal dislike him so?  Personally, I have a theory as to that second thing.”

“Mr. Parker isn’t at all suspicious,” said Mel,
intrigued that Hal would have relayed his misgivings to his family, especially
around his sister who obviously missed nothing.

“But isn’t it possible,” asked Jane, “that Mr.
Parker had someone meet Miss LaRue in New York and take her elsewhere?  Perhaps
even to a brothel in America?  Or he very well could have had someone meet her
at the docks in London and abscond with her.”

“I cannot think my friend would harm anyone,” said
Mel, though she’d had those same thoughts herself.

“It is all too easy to trust a person only to find
out later you didn’t really know him,” said Vanessa.  “I speak from
experience.  Mr. Parker may very well be just as innocent as you believe him to
be.  But it is my professional advice that you should use caution around him
until we know conclusively he was not involved in these disappearances.  And
from a personal standpoint, I do hope you’ll give Hal a chance to show he’s
husband material.”

“Husband material?” said Mel, choking on a sip of
tea.

“Most definitely!” said Lizzie.  “Hal’s obvious
jealousy of your Mr. Parker is a very good sign.  He can be a complete
muttonhead about so many things.  But the fact is, he scents a rival and it has
him out of sorts.  It’s wonderful.  I imagine it is not all that pleasant for
you.  But if you can only keep him wondering for a while longer, it will all
work out in the end.”

“Exactly,” said Jane.  “Kellington males are
wonderful, complex individuals, but also insufferably dense with it comes to
the fairer sex.”

Mel felt rather overwhelmed by the well-meaning
ladies, but they’d given her a great deal to think about.  So she accepted
another cup of tea as conversation turned to Lady Riverton’s blessed event.

*                    *                    *

Mel had told Hal she’d be unavailable that morning
because she was paying a call on some lady of the
ton
.  He decided to
take advantage of her being occupied by paying a visit to Conrad Patton.  It
was a little after noon and, therefore, early for the late-working Patton to be
up.  But Hal wanted Patton to be a little off his game.  There was a greater
chance he’d be more honest. 

Conrad Patton was a bit of a legend among his
peers.  Orphaned at an early age, he escaped a workhouse at eleven years of age
to serve as an errand boy for one of the local crime lords.  Patton had an
eerie ability to know when the Watch was closing in and saved his boss from
capture on more than one occasion.  He had an aptitude for figures and was soon
keeping the books, helping to sort out which employees were cheating.  He was
rising fast through the organization when an argument with his employer turned
violent.  Patton was found near death, beaten severely.  His recovery was long
and hard.  Shortly after he was able to get around, his former employer was
found shot through the head.

Patton wasn’t charged with the crime and never
admitted to having done it.  No one ever knew what they’d quarreled about in
the first place.  But whether he killed his boss or not, he earned a reputation
as a man one didn’t cross.

And now Hal was in Patton’s private sitting room at
Dill’s, waiting for him to make an appearance.  The room was filled with signs
of obvious wealth – Aubusson carpet, an Ormolu cloc, vases from the Orient.  It
was very much the room of someone who wanted to show others he had money.  Hal
suspected Patton took a special pride in the fact that he had more money than
many of the lords who gambled away their inheritances in the rooms below. 

Hal idly wondered how much he’d contributed to
Patton’s wealth.  He hadn’t lost too great a portion of his allowance, but it
was not an inconsiderable amount.  And it was very different from the way
Melanie was spending her inheritance.  He still wasn’t convinced the women she
helped went on to better lives in America.  He suspected many of them
eventually reverted to their old profession but in a new land.  But he admired
Mel for her dedication.  Some of the women she helped probably did find
husbands and enjoyed their new lives on the frontier.  Maybe one of them would
marry bloody Richard Parker.

His further ruminations were interrupted by the
appearance of Conrad Patton.  Despite the early hour, he was smartly turned out
in the best clothing Bond Street had to offer.

“You wished to see me, my lord?” he asked as he
swept into the room.

“Yes, Patton,” said Hal.  “Thank you for taking the
time.” 

Patton offered Hal a seat in one of the chairs that
flanked the fireplace.  He took the other.  If he was curious about the visit,
he offered no clue.  His face was impassive as ever, even if it did have the
scars that bore testament to a violent life.

Hal continued.  “I would like to know about your
relationship with Miss LaRue.”

For a moment, it seemed that Patton’s cool demeanor
was about to crack.  But after an instant of surprise, he simply said, “I knew
her.”

“Why do you answer in the past tense?”

Patton shrugged.  “One meets many people in London. 
They come and go.  I haven’t seen her around in quite a while.”

“I heard you were close.”

Patton rose from his chair and poured himself a
drink.  “If you’re asking whether I ever used her services, I admit that I
did.  I imagine even you sampled her wares from time to time, Kellington.”  Hal
noticed Patton’s hand tighten on his glass.  “I hear you spend quite a bit of
time at Madame Thurmond’s.”

“Do you know what became of her?”

Patton shook his head.  “For all I know, she’s still
at Thurmond’s.  The madame made it be known that I’m not welcome there any
longer.”

“Why was that?”  Hal had never seen Patton so on
edge as he was right now.  On several occasions he’d watched Patton give his
permission to raise table stakes to a level that could have bankrupted him, yet
he’d remained unruffled.  But right now there was something seething just
beneath the surface and Hal wanted to know what it was.

“I believe that’s none of your concern, Kellington. 
Your questions grow tedious.  Either tell me why you’re interrogating me or
leave.”

Hal wasn’t sure how much to reveal to Patton.  But he
also knew Patton had contacts that rivaled even Vanessa’s and Arthur’s.  He
could be of some use.  “I have reason to believe Miss LaRue was going to leave
the country a few months ago, but she didn’t board the ship which would take
her to America.  No one has seen her since.”

Patton was silent for a moment.  “She was going to
leave for America?”

“That was the plan,” said Hal.  “Were you aware of
it?”

“Once again, I fail to understand what concern this
is of yours.  Does she owe you money?  Did she give you the pox?  Why the
sudden interest in a common whore?  I did not think you were the socially
conscious type, regardless of how much time you’ve spent with Mrs. Seton’s
group.”

“Believe me, no one is more surprised by my interest
than I.  But a woman has gone missing.  If she meant anything at all to you, I
would think you’d want to know what happened to her.  Or maybe she met the same
fate as your long ago employer.”

“Maybe she did,” said Patton as he finished his
drink, then all but slammed the glass on the table.  “And now, if you’ll excuse
me, my lord, I have work to do.  If you can’t see yourself out, I shall arrange
for someone else to do it for you.”

Hal rose, studying the man whose demeanor once more
gave nothing away.  “I’ll do it myself.  But I do mean to get to the bottom of
Miss LaRue’s disappearance, regardless of what others may think.  You’d be wise
to remember that I’m not alone in this.  And I won’t be scared away.”

“Everyone can be scared away, my lord,” said Patton,
appraising him coolly.  “It only depends on what’s at risk.  Say hello to your
Miss Sutton for me.  Mrs. Seton’s protests aren’t the same without her.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Melanie was perfectly aware of the fact that
fantasizing about Hal while being forced to listen to yet another one of Mrs.
Seton’s lectures about vice and morality was rather wicked.  Wickedly fun.  She
felt a bit guilty having missed so many of Mrs. Seton’s meetings.  She did
still believe in the cause – to a degree.  Raw grain alcohol was deadly and
nothing was being done to protect the members of London’s poorest neighborhoods
who sought to drown their troubles in the only cheap spirits they could find.

But she had to admit that Mrs. Seton’s lack of
empathy toward the very people she was supposedly trying to save was rather
discouraging.  On more than one occasion, the woman had called for the forced
sterilization of the poor and for building a large fence around Seven Dials, in
order to keep the “criminal element” away from the rest of the city.

The only thing that had prevented Mel from telling
Mrs. Seton exactly what she thought of her heinous notions was the fact that
she needed the cover provided by Mrs. Seton’s crusades to cover up her own
activities.  So, it was actually for the good of the group that Mel’s mind was
currently preoccupied with visions of a naked Hal.  It was the only thing
preventing her from throwing a chair at the demagogue’s head.

Then, almost as if he’d been summoned by her visions,
Hal Kellington entered the room.  The mood around her immediately lightened. 
Perhaps Mel wasn’t the only one who was having fantasies of the man.  It was a
most vexing thought.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Seton, ladies,” he said as he
made his bow.  He might’ve had a smile for everyone, but his eyes landed on one
person, as if drawn to her by lodestone.  “I do hate to interrupt, but I have a
message for Miss Sutton from her uncle, the Earl of Heffner.  He has charged me
with delivering it straight away.”

“How dutiful of you,” said Mrs. Seton.  “Go ahead
and tell us what he said.”

“Actually,” said Hal.  “It is a private message. 
Surely it won’t violate propriety if I have a moment alone with Miss Sutton. 
It is, after all, a message from her uncle.”

“The earl,” said Mrs. Seton, as if just mentioning
the title would lend more importance to herself.

“The very same,” said Hal, turning his blinding
smile on the lady.