The Love List (11 page)

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Authors: Deb Marlowe

BOOK: The Love List
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“Marstoke!”  Callie’s color had faded.  “The papers report him so busy hobnobbing with all the visiting foreign dignitaries these last weeks, I thought we might have a reprieve from his harassment.”  She jumped to her feet.  “
Damn
him!”

“Callie,” Brynne began gently.

“I know, I’m sorry!” her friend cried.  She crossed to the window and back, one hand braced on her hip, the other covering her mouth.  “But damn him to hell anyway.”  She groaned.  “Oh, what will Hestia say?  He’s finally hit upon a way to do us serious damage.”

“About what am I to have something to say?”  The door was open and Hestia stood on the threshold.  Clad in a sophisticated day gown of yellow and white, she looked as beautiful as ever and resembled more a girl of twenty than a woman nearing one and thirty.  “What damage?” she asked.  She smiled in delight as Aldmere rose to his feet.  “Your Grace.  We met at the theater once, did we not?  How lovely to see you again.”  She glanced at Brynne’s face, and Callie’s.  “At least, I think it is.”

Brynne pulled her mentor in.  “We must talk,” she began.  She made the explanations again while Callie and Aldmere waited, both impatient.

Hestia sat, somber, when she’d finished.  “Marstoke,” she sighed.  “And Hatch?”  She frowned in concentration.  “It doesn’t bode well.  Hatch is yet a petty criminal, albeit a violent one—”

“I’m still not convinced that this pimp even has my brother,” the duke interrupted.  “But so far this is the only lead we have to follow.”  Aldmere’s lip curled.  “I tell you now, though, if Tru’s been harmed, there will be hell to pay.”  It was his turn to launch himself out of his chair and pace about the small room.

“We must move quickly to prevent it.”  Callie’s sudden sympathy for the duke surprised Brynne. 

“You did right to come here.”  Hestia’s nod of approval eased a fraction of Brynne’s anxiety.  “Letty is still firmly in thrall to Hatch.  She’s our best bet of getting some questions answered.”  She trailed off for a moment, frowning.  “This sets my nerves on edge, though.  Hatch’s reach is yet small, but thoroughly tight.  Those in its grip are either too loyal or too frightened to contemplate betrayal.”  She pursed her lips.  “But still, taken alone Hatch would be easily dispatched by someone like you, sir.”  She nodded to the duke.  “But as lackey to the Marquess of Marstoke? We could be looking at a more serious situation altogether.”

Brynne frowned, but Aldmere shook his head. 

“Surely you are overreacting,” he disagreed.  “I knew Truitt was spending the last months in the soups and stews of the city, and I knew he was doing it at Marstoke’s behest.  Now I know why—he was putting this List together.  He’s done what he was asked.  His debt is repaid.  So why would Marstoke quibble?  No, it makes more sense that he might have offended this pimp.  Or perhaps incurred debts.” 

“I see what you are saying,” Brynne leapt in, nodding at Hestia.  “On the surface it doesn’t make sense that Marstoke would be behind this abduction.  But remember what your brother’s servant said.  What if Lord Truitt resisted including something in the List that Marstoke wanted tacked on?  It could be that your brother had no wish to slander me or Hestia or this house.  Perhaps Marstoke intended to force the issue and merely needed him out of the way until the publication is complete.”

“You might be right,” Aldmere mused.

“Or the both of you might be naïve—and I didn’t expect it of you, Brynne, of all people.”  Callie folded her arms belligerently.  “You are the one who said Marstoke views all of this as a game.  Well, this smacks of a serious move against us.” 

“It does, Callie,” Hestia agreed.  “The real problem is, though that Marstoke never plays just one game at a time.”

Brynne saw the duke’s brow furrow. 

“I’ve battled the man for a very long time and I can tell you that there are no isolated incidents in Marstoke’s world.  Everything is connected.  In all that he’s done to us over the years—rumors and vandals and constables and raids—there have always been layers upon layers to his actions.  Social maneuverings, political bribes, influence of one kind or another.  He never makes two moves when one will do.”

“Marstoke takes a swing and many reel from the blow,” the duke mused.

“Exactly.  And he always has more than one game in play.”

Brynne shivered suddenly, all the hairs on her forearm rising in dread.

“All I ask is that you keep your mind open that there might be even deeper play going on here.”

Nerves fluttered in Brynne’s belly.  “It is true that Marstoke’s fellow players are usually men of power and influence, not pimps and bawd.” 

All of the events of the past, of this morning and the implications for the future whirled in her head.  She shut her eyes, sifting, looking for a pattern, an answer.  Her eyes widened as one detail bobbed to the surface.  “Hestia, you had not heard of our inclusion on the List?”

“No,” her mentor answered firmly.  “I’ve known about the List.  The talk has been rampant.”  Her mouth tightened.  “But that little tidbit must have been a very closely guarded secret.”  She glanced sadly at Brynne.  “I would never have kept such a secret from you.”

Callie’s eyes widened suddenly.  “Oh, Brynne,” she groaned.  “You know what this will do to all of your plans!”

‘I know.”  Brynne cut her off with a warning glance.  The duke been so callous regarding Hestia’s charitable work, she had no wish to hear him sneer at her own ideas for the future.  She addressed him directly.  “Remember, your Grace, that Joe Watts was also unaware that Marstoke stood behind this reincarnation of the Love List.”  She watched him, looming large in the feminine room, so appealingly broad-shouldered, his snug trousers travelling a long road down to the tops of his gleaming boots, and more than nerves fluttered in her belly.  “In fact, I would never have been able to connect the two had I not eavesdropped on your conversation with Marstoke that evening.”

Arrested, he froze in place.  “So most everyone appears to be aware of Tru’s place in all of this, but only
we
know of Marstoke’s involvement?”  Sinister darkness flashed behind his eyes before he gave Callie a stiff nod.  “I apologize for my earlier condescension.  I begin to like the sound of this less and less.”

Brynne jumped as the door opened.  Isaac entered.  He had a firm hold of Letty with one hand and the other carried a stuffed, hastily packed portmanteau.

“Oh, Letty,” Callie said on a sigh.

The girl glared back, defiant.  “I’m allowed to leave anytime I wish, Callie Grant.”  She pointed at Hestia.  “That’s Miss Hestia’s rule, and she won’t hold with you keeping me here against my will.”

“You’re right,” Hestia answered her.  “But neither will I allow you to walk into mortal danger.”

Letty stiffened.  “It ain’t danger I’m going to.”

“Come and sit a moment, my dear.”  Callie dismissed Isaac with a nod and guided the reluctant girl to her own vacated seat.  “We only wish to ask a few questions.  And we’ve news you’d better hear before you go anywhere.”

Letty trailed along, but shot a nervous glance at Aldmere.  He had focused keenly on her and the dark intensity of his attention clearly unsettled the girl.

When Letty had perched on the edge of her chair and settled her stare down into her lap, Callie sat across from her.  Carefully, she asked, “Are you on the Love List, Letty?”

Startled, the girl looked up.  Wearing a mutinous frown, she shook her head.

Hestia looked thoughtful.  “Does Hatch disapprove of the List?”

The question surprised the girl.  Her expression grew even more rebellious.  “No.” 

“Hatch’s other girls are included, then?”  Callie prodded gently.

Letty nodded, her face a study of resentment.  It quickly transformed to anger.  “It’s not like that, so don’t be lookin’ down on me, Callie Grant.  Hatch has bigger plans for me.  Important plans.”  She glared about at them all.  “You’re not the only one with fancy friends, these days.”

Brynne exchanged a look with Aldmere.  He glanced at Hestia then, a question apparent in his eye.  Hestia nodded permission and he leaned forward in his seat to engage Letty directly.

“I was wondering if you might have met my brother?”

Letty only looked confused.

The duke smiled.  “Forgive me, we haven’t been introduced, have we?  I’m the Duke of Aldmere.  My family name is Russell.”

Recognition, and then wariness leaped into her expression.

“My brother is Lord Truitt Russell.  Perhaps you’ve met him?”

“No.  I know who he is, but I’ve not met the bloke.”  She tossed her head defensively.  “I’m not to be on the List, as you heard.”

“I did hear.  And it’s easy to believe that you were indeed meant for important things, as you’ve also said.”  He smiled.

She blinked.

“I’d like to hear more about your plans.  Can you be more specific about what your ah . . . friend has in store for you?”

The girl was definitely growing more nervous.  “No.  That is, not yet.”

“Why not?” he asked gently.  Brynne was impressed with his patience.

“I don’t know anything.  Not yet.”

His brow lowered along with his tone.  “Might those plans have something to do with the fancy friends your Hatch has made?”

Letty shot to her feet.  “I’m sure I don’t know.  I’d best be going now.” 

“Oh, my dear,” Hestia sighed.  “That would not be wise.  Do sit down again.”  She truly did look sorrowful as she ran an eye over the girl.  “I’m sorry, Letty, but we already know about the List and what it says—about me and about all the girls staying here.”

Panic flared Letty’s eyes wide. 

Brynne leaned in.  “You understand, I see.  We are not supposed to know.  It doesn’t matter that we found out through other sources.  Hatch will believe that you gave us the information.”

Gaping between the two of them, the girl let out a low moan.

“We all know what Hatch’s temper is.  You can’t go there.  Indeed, you’d do best to stay tucked away here, for at least the next few days.  Unless you’ve a way out of London entirely?” Hestia asked.

Letty shook her head.  “You’ve ruined everything,” she whispered.  Silent tears began to run down her cheeks.

For the first time, Callie’s voice rang sharp.  “We can keep you safe, Letty, and we will.  But you must tell us what you know of Lord Truitt’s disappearance.”

The girl gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth.  Brynne could feel the fear she emanated from several feet away.

Callie crossed and knelt before her.  “We’ll have the truth, Letty.”

Letty shook her head.  “I don’t know!  I knew Hatch wanted him, but I didn’t know he’d been caught.”  She looked wildly at Aldmere.  “I swear!”

“Why did Hatch want Tru?” the duke demanded.

Her face grew hard. 

Aldmere stood.  “For his
friends
?  Who are they?”

“I don’t know.”  The duke’s face darkened and she grew fierce again.  “I
don’t
!  Hatch wouldn’t tell me because I was living here.  And now it’s too late!”  She broke into a torrent of harsh sobs.

“All right, Letty.”  Callie got to her feet.  She crossed to the door once again and asked a passing girl to fetch Isaac again.  “Take a few minutes.  Calm yourself and collect your thoughts.  Then return here.  We will not treat you with the same callous disdain with which you thought to visit on us, but we will require you to show the duke to Hatch’s den.  Don’t go in, for heaven’s sake.  Don’t even come too close, just lead him to the vicinity and come straight back.” 

When resistance swept over the girl’s face once more, Hestia only shook her head.  “It’s too late for you my dear,” she said from her chair.  “You’ve been defiant in the past.”  Her voice lowered.  “You were half dead the last time, Letty.  If Hatch isn’t stopped, you’ll have little choice except to leave Town.”  She regarded the girl steadily.  “Is that what you want?”

Brynne knew her answer before she saw the shake of her head.  Because she knew what it was to face a new life with no one left to you.  Just like her, Letty was truly left with only one choice.  Feeling numb, she watched her depart.

“You heard the girl—the bastard’s taken Tru,” Aldmere said, low and fierce.  “I didn’t really believe it until I saw it in her face.” 

Callie nodded and leaned against the closed door.  Lips pursed, she looked first to Hestia and then met Brynne’s gaze.  “You’ll have to move quickly.  We have a slight advantage.  We know what we are not supposed to—and Marstoke is not yet aware of it.  It’s little enough, but we should make use of it.”  She pushed away from the door. 

“Wait,” the duke objected.

Hestia spoke up.  “We must not forget that it looks as if Marstoke is going to a great deal of trouble to keep his name separate from the Love List.  In fact, I shouldn’t wonder if Hatch is likely in
charge
of keeping that secret.”

Brynne looked up.  “Then the last thing Hatch will wish is for Marstoke to know the secret is out.”

“Is it a secret worth killing for, that’s the question?”  Like smoke, Hestia’s question hung heavy with ferocity in the air.

“Hold now,” Aldmere insisted.  “All of your points are correct, ladies, except one.  I’m going alone.  There’s no need to involve Miss Wilmott further.”

Shocked, Brynne objected.  “I beg your pardon, but there is every reason!”  She stood and pushed back against a rise of the old feeling of helplessness and its accompanying panic. 

The glance that Aldmere rested on Brynne lasted only a second and felt like a warning.  “I don’t wish to have to worry for your safety.  I will, of course, report back to you.”

“You may pierce me with the ducal glare as many times as you like, but it won’t change a thing.”  Her heart pounded, but she ruthlessly ordered it to stop.  Yes, he was large and masculine and powerful.  But he was also domineering, and far too inclined to take charge.  And insane, if he thought to cut her off from fighting her own battles. “Your stake in this is far more serious, of course, but ours is far from negligible.  And mine is particularly sharp.  The marquess has already ruined me once.  Now that I’ve finally glimpsed a new future, I won’t let him steal it away, as well.” 

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