The Black Lotus (Night Flower) (35 page)

BOOK: The Black Lotus (Night Flower)
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“Yes Miss,” Jane cautiously entered the room and stared at the animated features of her mistress with shock. The maid servant had been expecting tears and anger, not this cool eyed, determined young woman that now stood before her. “You rang?”

 

“I did yes,” Melissa replied coolly, witnessing Jane’s surprise but paying little attention to it. “I understand there is a party at Lady Hawthorn’s this evening,”

 

“Yes Miss, it’s one of the largest parties of the season.”

 

“Very good,” Melissa replied, turning to replace her soiled handkerchief within the sleeve of her gown. “Could you also tell me if a Lord Tarlington will be there?”

 

“I believe so Miss, I don’t know the full guest list, but I believe he is due to attend.”

 

“Good,” Melissa turned back to face her old nurse. “Then make me ready, for I will be attending.”

 

“But Miss, your parents,”

 

“I’m certain my parents would be happy that I am forgetting Lestrade and attempting to re-enter the marriage mart. I feel certain that one or both of them will accompany me. Certainly my father owes me a debt for this,” Melissa pointed at her cheek and sneered lightly. “After all, they want me to find a good match and I can’t do that locked up here. Tell them for me and then arrange for my clothes,” And with that, Melissa pointed at the door and turned away from her maid, dismissing her with a single look. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter
35:

 

Justin crossed the threshold of his home and he slumped to the floor, finally unable to stand upright. His ribs felt broken and he was quite convinced that at least one had splintered. He coughed once and a small amount of blood smeared across the back of his hand.

"Wonderful," He
murmured, looking at the bright bloom of blood with a sneer. "That's just what I want, a pierced lung." Taking a deep breath, he reached up and began to pull himself upright. It was hard going; his body did not want to cooperate. The pain of the beating and residual damage from a night chained to a wall ensured that he could barely move. After the third failed attempt to stand, he sat back and shouted.

"Coll!" His broken scream echoed through the halls of the ruined mansion and he waited, pain wracking his body, for his servant to arrive.

"Sir?" After what seemed like an eternity, Coll appeared at the top of the steps, he took one look at his master sprawled across the stones of the hallway before he raced downstairs. "Are you alright?" He wrapped his arms about Justin and pulled him to his feet. "What the devil happened?" He grunted as he guided his young master into the parlour and laid him on the chaise longue.

"John happened." Justin replied tersely, tiredness and pain making him short tempered. "Where's my brother?"

"Your brother has not returned since yesterday." Coll replied as he stoked up the fire.

 

"Typical." Justin felt his eyelids begin to droop with the onset of unconsciousness. "Very well, go to London and visit 18 Swan Street. Tell Emily that I want her here."

 

Coll nodded and began to stand. Justin's fingers snaked out and grabbed his servant by the wrist. "As fast as you possibly can Coll and don't take no for an answer. Tell her that John has stolen my brooch."

 

He heard his manservant rush down the hallway and leave the house. He tried to move unto his side, but the pain in his chest prevented all movement. Wincing at the pain, he opened his eyes and stared around the room. It was so different from in his childhood, the furniture was heavier, the drapes missing from the walls and the rushes missing from the floor. He had to admit that in some cases, this curse was delightful; he could never have imagined the progress he had seen. He only had to walk through the houses to see just how things had changed. A snort escaped his lips at the thought of owing this curse something when it already took so much of his soul. These injuries he had sustained would not heal unless he found his brooch and another vessel. Giving up on moving, he settled back against the cushions and closed his eyes. In the quiet, his mind ranged back to the night’s events. He hadn’t anticipated Melissa sneaking down to the stables to talk to him, a bold move and one he appreciated, despite how the conversation had gone. He supposed he could not blame her for the reaction, his secrets had endangered her and he hadn’t seen fit to warn her of them. Wincing at the pain in his chest, he shifted into another position and tried again to settle down. Drifting towards sleep, he thought back to his conversation with Marcus. Remembering what he had been told about Melissa, he dared to hope that she had forgiven him. It was the last thing he thought before sleep finally claimed him.

 

“Justin!” He jolted awake at the voice and looked up in to a pair of bright blue eyes. Emily was standing over him, concern etched on her face. “What the devil happened to you?”

 

He would have chuckled at her startled concern, but it hurt far too much. “I sent the message with Coll, John stole my brooch.”

 

An exasperated tut escaped her lips as she took in the bruises, livid on his face. “Did John do this to you?”

 

“No as a matter of fact,” He coughed, tasting blood. “It was Marcus De Vire and his grooms.”

 

“Why would?” She stopped her question and stared down at him with a wry smile. “Oh of course.” The light of revelation flooded into her face. “You couldn’t leave her alone after all.” Dipping a cloth into a basin, she began to cleanse the blood from his face.

 

“It wasn’t quite like that.” He protested, closing his eyes as her fingers tenderly dealt with the damage done to his face.”

 

“Then what was it like?” She rinsed out the cloth and returned to his wounds, slowly and softly daubing the bruises and cuts in cool water.

 

“John found her.” Her fingers stopped moving and she stared down at him, a mixture of pity and smugness in her features.

 

“I told you to take her with you.” She dampened the cloth once more and returned to his face, rinsing the blood from his handsome features. “I did say that John was going to find her.”

 

“Yes you’re extremely clever,” Sardonic tones flowed out from between his bloodied lips. Emily being right was not a pleasurable experience.

“Don’t get like that darling,” She whispered as her fingers slid
gently over his skin. “I am sorry for what has happened to her.”

 

“Did I say that she’s dead?” He glanced up at Emily and was gratified to see the shock in her features. “It appears she woke up and fought him off. I arrived after he’d thrown himself from her window.”

 

“You confronted him?” Her fingers left his face and began to check lower parts of his body for damage.

 

“Hmm.” He winced as her hands slid over angry bruises and she whispered an apology. “He then took my brooch and left me for De Vire.”

 

“And he naturally assumed that you were the intruder.”  Emily gave a slight roll of her eyes as she undid his shirt and gave a small whistle at the damage. “Did De Vire do all this?”

 

“Well his grooms did some of it, I asked him to do the rest.”

 

“Why?” Delicately she began to sponge his chest, watching him cringe with a worried expression.

 

“If John feels I have been banished he may leave Melissa alone.”

 

“Hmm,” She didn’t answer as she continued to sponge down his body. The water in the bowl became redder and redder as she continually washed out the soft rag. Concentrating on his bruises, Emily ceased conversation and Justin saw no need to speak. Eventually her fingers stilled on his skin and she drew the blanket up to his chin.

 

“There,”

 

“Thank you Emily,” He whispered, grateful that she had come to take care of him.

 

“Think nothing of it,” She disposed of the bowl of water and turned back to face him. “So you’ve left her.”

 

“Yes, I’ve promised to leave the country.” He indicated his battered body with a sigh. “As soon as I can heal, I’ll be leaving for France. John is sure to follow me there.”

 

“Well if that’s your decision,” Standing, she pulled a short cape about her shoulders. “I’ll talk to Katherine and see if we can get your brooch back. Stay here and get some sleep.” With a slight smile on her lips, she turned to face the door.

 

“Em,” She turned back to face him, “I mean it, thank you.”

 

“I’m glad you called me,” She smiled at him as she turned to leave the room.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 36:

 

“She won’t hate you forever,” Lydia De Vire stated to her son as they sat within the parlour. The remains of a late lunch lay on the tables nearby as
Lydia finished off some embroidery.

 

“Are you sure?” Marcus replied. His face was dark, brooding and not at all like his usual self. The events of that morning were burned into his mind and he wished that he could have taken it all back. “You didn’t see her face mother, I’ve done something unforgivable.” Standing suddenly, he began to pace the floor.

 

“No, she will understand.” His mother soothed, laying aside her embroidery to stare at her oldest child. “You were protecting her.”

 

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” Marcus turned to his mother and continued. “I know that Lestrade was innocent,” He nodded with a bitter smile at the look on his mother’s face. “He asked me to beat him and I did.” He ran an agitated hand through his hair. “Damn me I did.”

 

Lydia was silent as she watched Marcus pace, watched the torment in his features. Her son was a good man, always had been and this had hurt more than she had ever seen. After a few moments she stood and crossed over to him.

 

“Marcus,” Her arms extended and wrapped about her son’s tall frame. As her hands flowed around him, he leant into her embrace, sobbing the way he had done when he was still a child. “It’s alright.”

 

“It’s not alright; I beat an innocent man and made my sister believe that I am a monster.” Lydia patted him on the back, allowing him to cry out as she had done so many times in the past. Silently they stood there in the centre of the room as Marcus softly cried out his sorrows.

 

“She will forgive you son,” Lydia whispered as Marcus’ tears finally dried up. “You’re her brother, she will find in her heart to forgive.”

 

Marcus opened his mouth to speak and stopped as Melissa walked into the room.

 

“I’m going to the Hawthorn ball.” She announced loudly, her gaze falling anywhere but on her brother.

 

“You are?” Lydia’s voice was bemused; she had not been expecting Melissa to be attending any parties so soon after the events of the night.

 

“I am and I will need you to accompany me.”

 

“I’ll go with you,” Marcus stepped forward, looking at her with apology in his eyes.

 

“That’s quite all right,” Melissa’s voice was cool; remote and Marcus felt a further stab of guilt at the implied accusation in her voice. “Mother can accompany me, she was going anyway.”

 

“Well I was,” Lydia glanced at her two children and inwardly sighed, it would take a long time to defuse this little war. “Very well, arrange the carriage for five.”

With a curt nod, Melissa left the room and headed upstairs, barely sparing her brother a glance.

 

“I told you,” Marcus spoke as he reached for his riding hat. “She won’t forgive me.” With a sigh, he left the room and headed out towards the stables, hoping a ride would clear his head.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 37:

 

  Melissa strolled through the wide hallway in a dress of cream brocade, her real hair hidden by an extravagantly designed wig. She moved through the crowd, dispensing hellos and platitudes as though nothing troubled her, yet the palms of her hands were clammy and her eyes raked over her fellows guests as though she were a hawk.

 

“No puce is a wonderful colour if utilised properly,” Familiar, drawling tones flowed from a side room and she turned her head, staring through the door at the small group that stood within. Tarlington stood in the centre of the throng, holding court with a mixed group of men and women. A quizzing glass was held firmly in his hand and he gestured with it grandly as he held forth with his views on fashion.

 

“Whatever you say Tarlington,” One of the others responded, his voice laughing. “But I don’t find puce all that appealing; it turns my stomach, particularly on someone who does not have the colouring for it.”

 

“Well I suppose we all have our fancies and mine is..” Tarlington stopped speaking as his gaze fell onto the form of Melissa stood within the doorway. “Well I see we have an interloper,” He declared as he stepped forward and held out a hand. “It is lovely to see you again my dear,” Melissa entered the room, drawn in by the gentle pull of his fingers.

 

“Well my dear are you ready to discuss the finer points of fashion,” He ran an appraising look over her form.

 

“Err no,” Melissa stammered, looking at the eyes on her with some trepidation. “I wanted to speak to you about jewellery,”

 

“Jewellery?” Tarlington responded, confusion colouring his features. “What could I tell you about jewellery?”

 

“Not any old jewellery,” she clarified, staring him straight in the eyes and hoping that he would take the hints. “Enamelled jewellery; brooches to be precise.”

 

A gleam of understanding flashed through his eyes and he nodded slightly. “I see, what exactly do you want to know?”

 

“I believe Justin Lestrade has such a brooch,”

 

“He doesn’t move in my circle, but I daresay you’re right,” Tarlington held out a hand and led her towards a set of seats in the corner of the room. “What of it?”

 

“It’s missing,” She declared, unable to find a more oblique way to inform him of the fact. “He mentioned that he last saw it when in the company of John,”

Tarlington took a deep breath and stared down at the young woman before him. “My dear, Justin’s possessions should be none of your concern,” His voice dropped in volume and he held her gaze with a look of complete seriousness. “And if John did see Justin’s brooch last, then it is up to the two of them to sort it out.” He reached for a goblet and long a sip, all the time his eyes resting on hers. “But you’re not going to leave it are you?”

 

“I can’t, Justin is indisposed and unable to visit.”

 

“I do advise you Miss De Vire to drop this enquiry.”
Hugh leant forward and took her hand. “It’s not your concern,” He pitched his voice so that only she could hear and moved closer. “Whatever happened is between them and please do not get involved, it’s far too dangerous.”

 

“But he saved my life,” Melissa retorted, staring at the older man.

 

“Even more reason why you should stay far from him,” He placed the goblet down on the table and moved to stand. “I don’t want him to finish the job he started, so no Melissa, I’m not going to help you.”

 

Melissa blinked back two warm tears and pulled herself upright; reaching for the sleeve of Tarlington’s jacket, she arrested his movement and pulled him back to face her. “Tarlington,” Her voice was harsh yet brittle, “Please help me,”

 

“You should be ashamed Tarlington, not helping this lovely young woman.” A new voice declared from the doorway as Emily, dressed in a daringly cut, blue dress sashayed into the room. Melissa felt Tarlington freeze beside and he turned his elaborately coifed head to face the newcomer.

 

“What is your interest in this matter?” Tarlington’s voice was cold and disapproving as the woman made her way across the floor.

 

“My interest is my own,” Emily responded airily as she took in Melissa’s troubled face. “Oh dear this will never do,” She muttered as she reached forward and handed Melissa a handkerchief. “Wipe your eyes dear and then we can sort things out, but not here.” She stared round the room, noting the other guests. Catching hold of Melissa’s arm, she began walking with her from the room.

 

“Emily,” Tarlington caught hold of the other’s arm and dragged her to one side. “Now is not the time for your games, John has made an appearance and things are far too dangerous at the moment for whatever amusement you have planned.”

 

“And who says I’m planning anything?” The blonde answered carelessly as she turned from Tarlington and returned to Melissa’s side. “I’m just interested in aiding the cause of justice.” A bark of laughter escaped Hugh’s lips as he watched Emily take hold of Melissa’s upper arm. “Now then Melissa, I’m going to help you,” With Tarlington following, she walked Melissa into an empty room and shut the door.

 

“No you’re not,” Hugh caught Emily’s other arm and forced her face towards his. “John took Justin’s brooch but as I tried to say to this overly emotional idiot,” he nodded at Melissa, who glowered back at him. “It is not her business, neither is it ours. John and Justin have been battling for a while now and they can sort it out themselves. If anyone else gets involved,” He threw up his hands in disgust and paced across the room to the tray of drinks. “If anyone else gets involved then it’s going to get very messy.” He picked up a glass of brandy and downed it in one swallow. “Justin has decided to not tarnish this one’s reputation, which means that he at least cares about her, if we put her in John’s path then I daresay he’ll be a tad put out with us.”

 

Emily threw back her head and laughed. “Oh Hugh, Justin’s been a tad put out with us for a very long time now. I wouldn’t know how to handle things if he wasn’t.”

 

“No Emily,” Hugh retaliated, his usual dandyish tones, serious and completely disapproving. “You remember what happened to Anna?” Emily glanced at Hugh and grimaced, her lovely face suddenly stricken with a pain that Melissa didn’t understand. “John is ruthless and he won’t stop, don’t encourage foolishness and let this girl get on with her life.”

 

“Anna?” Melissa finally broke into the argument and both looked at her. Hugh glared at Emily before finally returning to Melissa’s side. “I understand that I’m a late arrival at this party, but will someone explain?”

 

“Very well,” Tarlington caught hold of her hands and took a deep breath. “Anna was a girl Justin had feelings for about one hundred and fifty years back. As you’re no doubt aware, Justin is a ladies man, always has been, but when he met her, he saw something that pulled at him. He wondered if he could find some peace with her, but,” Tarlington sighed and reached out for one of the glasses of canary. “He was wrong.”

 

“What happened?” Melissa asked, listening to the hypnotic quality of Hugh’s voice with interest. His hands were warm about hers and the sympathy in his gaze tugged at her heart.

 

“It was both of them,” He replied, squeezing her hands lightly as he spoke. “Justin let her into his life and put her at risk, John took advantage of that and..”

 

“He killed her?” Melissa whispered in response, trying to visualise Justin in the past.

 

“Worse.” Hugh replied, his voice angry. “He decided that the best way to hurt Justin was to force Justin to kill her.”

 

Melissa moved forward, wanting to hear and yet wishing that she could not. Behind her and to the left, Emily stood stock still, her face set in stone. “How?” Melissa breathed lightly, wondering if she really needed to know the answer.

 

“How much do you know about these brooches?” Hugh asked, watching her face with interest.

 

“I know that they make you immortal.”

 

“It’s a bit more than that.” He answered carefully, “You have to take the life force of someone to keep alive,” he watched as horror slowly dawned on her face and smiled sadly.  “And not only that. If you don’t take someone’s life, you’ll still live, you just won’t heal. You will be fully aware, even if you take a mortal wound. You can die and still be in your body rotting. So we have to steal other people’s energy.”

 

“Then what happened to Anna?” Melissa whispered.

 

“John broke into her house and took her. He then killed the one Justin was draining, drugged Justin and dragged him unconscious into a cellar. He placed Justin’s brooch in his hand and used Justin’s own fingers to open it.” His voice was low, breathless with bitterness as he related the tale. As he spoke, he looked down at her fingers; they were clasped together so tightly that they were white about the knuckles.

 

“And then what?” She whispered, almost fearing to hear the end of the tale.

 

“Then he forced Anna to look in the locket and she became Justin’s life.” Emily wrapped her arms about herself and stared straight ahead, listening intently to Hugh’s voice. “Justin then woke up, right before John slit his throat.” Hugh slammed his fist into the table beside him, startling the pair of them. “Justin had to watch as Anna took the damage from him. He could do nothing but watch as her skin split open and spilled her blood onto the floor. John gloated about it and blamed Justin for what had happened to her.”

 

“Justin took it to heart,” Emily finished and looked down at her. “He never let himself get that close again, there are times obviously when one of us wants more human contact than what we have, but it isn’t possible.”

 

Melissa stared down at her hands as Emily finished speaking and chewed her lower lip. She couldn’t quite take it in; it was too big for her. This tale, this tragedy was larger than anything she had faced in her life and she wanted more than anything to hide until it was all over. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tarlington’s face. He was paying close attention to her reactions. He wanted her to run, to go home and continue her mundane, safe existence. But could she do that? In her mind she saw Justin’s battered body lying on the floor of her stables and remembered his determination to push her away from this. If she just walked away, she would be safe, it was what he and Marcus and everyone else wanted, but it would feel wrong. Safety at the expense of another was cowardice and she wasn’t a coward. She remembered the terror of the other night, of that heavy frame, pressing her into the bed and once again, deep anger boiled within her. If she ran, John would win, his assault would define her forever and that too would be unacceptable. With a brisk jolt of her head, she drew her face upwards and stared at the two before her.

 

“Why do you want me to help him?” Melissa demanded of Emily, her clear green gaze wanting answers.

 

“Because when he doesn’t care, he turns into the shallow womanising idiot you saw at the ball.” Emily returned as she sank into the chair opposite. “I’ve had to put up with this rubbish for one hundred years and I’m sick of it.” She reached for Melissa’s hand. “I’m not saying he loves you, but he could. You make him feel again and that is worth more than anything.”

 

“Emily.” Tarlington finally stepped forward and seized hold of her upper arm. “What are you thinking? Lestrade promised that he would not consider drawing another into this mess. I can’t believe that you would want to drag someone into our hell.”

 

“I do not want him to bring her into our company, but if she does this for him, he’ll have some fond memories for the future, memories that won’t make him brood or send him into a flurry of meaningless...” She broke off and stared up at Hugh with a plea in her eyes. “She wants to help and I think she should.”

 

The dandy rolled his eyes and rounded on her. “You don’t care about her and you don’t care about him. This is another one of your games, don’t play with her life like this.” His voice was low, threatening and Melissa suppressed a shudder.

 

Emily laughed, a silvery, tinkling laugh that bounced off the walls and ceiling. “Oh my dear Hugh, how can you think that?”

 

“Because I know you, you’re not an altruist.”

 

Melissa watched the impending argument with a mounting fury. Standing abruptly, she faced down the pair of them. They both stopped speaking and stared down at her furious face. “I don’t care.” She announced finally, her words ringing in the sudden silence. “And I’m not scared.” Melissa stared at Emily and beckoned her forward. “You will take me to John and we will take that brooch back.” Tarlington moved to speak and she rounded on him. “Whatever you may Tarlington, John will not make me run. He owes me satisfaction for the other night, if I run and hide behind my skirts, then he gets away with it.” Her voice hardened and she stared up at the older man’s face. “I’m not going to let him get away with it.” Flicking her gaze over to Emily, she continued to speak, her voice getting stronger with every word. “I’m not doing this just for Justin; I’m doing this for me.” She held out her hand to Emily and beckoned. “Well are we going?”

BOOK: The Black Lotus (Night Flower)
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