The Scarlet Bride (29 page)

“Please, what do you want?” Laura asked. Her mind reached out, trying to put a name or face to the voice. It was
just out of grasp. But she knew him. Somehow. And he knew her.

With the knife pressed to her flesh, it was difficult to think of anything but saving herself.

A low chuckle filled her ear as he pressed his mouth to her lobe. She shuddered. “What do I want? I want you, Laura. From our first meeting, you have haunted me, a vision in a simple cream dress. I can still see the sadness and acceptance in your eyes as you went stoically to your fate.”

“I don’t know you,” she pressed. “You have mistaken me for another.” The churn of panic kept her frozen. One slip of the blade and she’d be dead. “Please release me.”

He nipped her ear. She winced.

“There are too many guests for us to get reacquainted properly.” The knife trailed from her neck to her shoulder blade. She clutched her throat with her free hand.

“We will talk again,” he said. “Soon.”

Spinning her around, he shoved her into the room and escaped out the terrace doors.

Laura didn’t wait for him to change his mind and return. She ran across the room and into the hallway. A couple stepped back in surprise as she raced passed them. She had to get to Simon before the stranger escaped.

Never had a hallway seemed so long as she hurried away from the library. She just made it to within a few footsteps to safety when a faded image slipped to the fore and his words became clear. She’d married in a simple cream dress. Only a few people knew that information and two of them were dead.

A face rushed into her head and with it a name.

Henry.

Bile burned in her throat.

It took Laura forever to find Simon. He was in an alcove talking with a pair of gentlemen when he caught her eye. Fear must have been evident on her face, for he quickly excused himself and walked toward her.

“I—” She struggled for words and touched her neck. “I was accosted in the library.”

That was all it took for Simon’s face to tighten. “Come with me.” He turned and led Laura from the room.

For the third time, she found herself in the library. Her eyes darted to the open doors, half expecting to find Henry hiding, ready to attack her again.

There was nothing to indicate his presence. Clearly he’d had the sense to flee after accosting her.

Simon locked the door behind them. “Tell me everything.”

Laura rubbed her arms. “I returned for the fan and a man snuck up behind me with a knife. He must have been lurking outside and crept in here after we left. It was unfortunate that I left Aunt Bernie’s fan behind.”

Simon’s jaw pulsed. “Did he hurt you?”

She shook her head. “He pressed the blade to my neck. He said he desired me from our first meeting and mentioned a dress I used to wear. At first, I didn’t know what that meant. And he called me Laura, not Sabine.”

“Did you know him?”

“It wasn’t until after he fled that it came to me.” She looked up, her fear rising. “It was Henry.”

“Henry?” Simon scowled as he walked over to pour her a glass of wine and handed it to her.

She drank to clear her dry throat. Then, “Westwick’s friend. I spoke of him before. He witnessed our marriage and was often a guest at the town house. I never considered that he could be the killer. The way he’d held the blade…I’m certain he could use it with deadly accuracy.”

Simon clenched his fists. “You are lucky to be unhurt. I never should have left you alone.”

“You could not know I’d be accosted here. There are hundreds of possible witnesses.” She drained the glass. Her hands shook. “Though he attacked me, I believe it wasn’t his intention to harm me.” She set down the glass. “He wants me; he is playing with me. He will do me no harm while his desire is unsatisfied.”

Laura felt Simon’s rage, saw it in his eyes.

“The bastard.” Simon walked to the sideboard and poured a drink. “Does this Henry have a full name?”

She stared at his back, tense and stiff. She tried once more to remember what she could about Henry and recalled very few details. Yet she knew his face well. She’d seen it many times. Otherwise, she had little information that would help Simon find him.

“I do not know it.” A helpless feeling followed. “He is somewhere his early twenties and has dark hair. I don’t think he is a noble as his clothing is modest, though well cut, and he doesn’t have the air of a man born to privilege.”

Simon turned around. “Does he have any scars or oddities that would make him noticeable?”

“Not that I can remember. He was ordinary. Well, as ordinary as one can be with a streak of evil in his heart. He often brought women to the town house and abused them. It was as if he were the other half of Westwick. In fact, they somewhat resembled each other in coloring.”

“Is it possible that they are related?” Simon walked over to claim a chair. Only the light from a pair of sconces kept the room from darkness.

“It’s possible.” Laura stood near the cold fireplace. “I’d never considered it.” She ran a fingertip along the mantle. “They were as unalike as they were alike. Westwick was clearly the leader and Henry was the one led along. Even so, he had an arrogance about him that led me to believe he wasn’t entirely happy to be the follower.”

Simon fell silent. After a moment, he said, “If he is a guest here, he should be easy to find.”

“I wish I knew more,” Laura said. “I was struggling to survive during those months in captivity. I paid very little attention to anything beyond my own suffering. Henry was merely another background player. Had I known that Westwick would be murdered, I would have paid closer attention to the man he called a friend.”

F
ortunately, the rest of the evening went without incident. Against Simon’s wishes, she’d stayed at the party. She knew Henry; he did not. Unfortunately, her continued presence
led them no closer to finding the mysterious Henry. If he was a guest, he’d left after confronting Laura.

Simon spoke to both the duke and Eva, but they were as puzzled as he was. The duke vowed to call for Crawford in the morning and give him the new information.

It was nearing two o’clock when Simon escorted the women back to the Harrington town house. He thought it best if Laura spent the night there, and Laura agreed. As a companion, she was found a room on the upper floor and the maid was instructed to find a nightdress for her to use.

Aunt Bernie bade them good night.

“If my sleeping away from the school continues, I shall have to start carrying a valise with a change of clothing,” Laura remarked as Simon led her upstairs. She yawned.

“I think you should move in here.”

“What?” Her exhaustion faded.

Simon stopped outside the bedroom door. “I no longer think you’ll be safe at the school. I believe it will be best if you are here, where I can keep watch over you.”

Laura bristled. “I can watch over myself.”

He grinned. “I know you can. However, I find the appearance of this Henry at the ball more than a coincidence. If he is not a member of society, then he was not an invited guest. He attacked you in the library. That leads me to believe he was watching you through the windows this evening. He saw you leave the fan and expected you to return for it. He lay in wait.”

“Then he knew I’d be at the ball,” Laura said. “He watched me all night, waiting for his opportunity to confront me.”

“Tonight, and likely every day over the last few weeks. If so, he knows about the school, whom you talk to, everything about your life.”

The idea of her presence at the school endangering the women outraged her. “I knew someone was watching me. I felt him. But I never saw anything suspicious.” She pressed her fist to her mouth. “I rarely leave the school. Is it possible that he followed us the night of my escape?”

“I don’t believe so. I was careful.”

A terrifying thought came to mind. “Oh, dear. He was in the coach.” Her eyes widened. The crushing truth became clear and she paced. “He must have seen me escape the town house. He was there when the footmen tried to reclaim me and saw me ride off with you.” She rubbed her hands together. She was very sure that she was right. “It wouldn’t be difficult to discover the owner of Horse. He is a distinctive animal.”

“Then he not only has been watching you, but he found you by following me to the school,” Simon ground out. “Had I left you alone, he’d still be futilely searching for you.”

Laura shook her head. “You couldn’t know.”

“I
should have
known,” he countered. “You warned me of the danger you faced that first night. I didn’t take enough precautions to keep you safe.”

She felt his anger and knew it was directed inwardly. “We can do nothing about that now. And we do not know for certain how he found me. It will be a time waste to speculate. We need to figure out what brought him out of hiding tonight.”

He expelled his held breath. “I’m more curious to know why he let you go and what he intends to do next.”

A memory tugged. “I thought I saw something at the manor the night we spent together. I made myself believe that it was you standing beneath a tree outside the attic window. It wasn’t, was it?”

He shook his head. “I tended the horses, nothing more. If he was there, and has been stalking you, then there is little about either of us that he doesn’t know.”

“This could put you in danger, too. It would certainly give him reason to come out of the shadows,” Laura said. Her heart twisted. “If he sees you as my lover and an obstacle in his way, he may kill you to have me.”

Simon cupped her face. “Do not fret about me, love. We Harringtons are a hearty lot. I do not plan to die with a knife buried in my back.”

Laura placed her hands over his. The puzzle grew more confusing with each new piece. “He would have had many opportunities to kidnap me. Tonight was part of some vile game.”

Simon nodded. “Passion, greed, desperation are all possibilities. We shall return to Collingwood House when His Grace meets with Crawford. Perhaps between the four of us, we can get our answers.”

H
enry is a common name,” His Grace said after the foursome gathered a day later in the library at Collingwood House. “I suspect I know eight or more in my circle. And there are certainly several with dark hair. It isn’t much to work with.”

Laura had spent the better part of the morning trying to remember everything she could about the mysterious man. She’d spent hours in his company but paid him little mind. Her thoughts during those days were mostly on working through opportunities to escape.

“He had an ordinary face.” She glanced at Mister Crawford. The investigator and His Grace had gone over the guest list and found nothing unusual. Before the duchess left for the school, she went through the guest list, too, and tried to remember the names of the guests of her guests. There were very few she didn’t know and certainly no one who fit the description of Henry and his clothing.

Neither the duke nor the duchess remembered more than a few faces they didn’t recognize. And no one stood out as particularly interesting, and certainly not threatening.

It solidified their belief that Henry had been following Laura.

“I think it is time I visit Westwick’s town house,” Crawford said. “Though the house has been abandoned by most of the staff, I believe there are a few servants still in residence.”

“Hasn’t someone stepped forward to claim the estate?” Simon asked. “Usually a death has family members salivating over the prospect of adding to their coffers.”

Crawford shook his head. “The inheritance has yet to be distributed. The court wants to see the matter of the murder settled before they render a ruling.”

“Do they suspect a family member in the murder?” Simon asked. “That would be an interesting twist.”

“That is unlikely. According to records, most of his family is either dead or old,” Crawford said. “There is a distant cousin who would be pleased to inherit the title, but there may be very little fortune to be gained. Westwick burned through his inheritance at a staggering pace. The barristers are still untangling his muddled financial records.”

“I would not be surprised to know Westwick was teetering on financial ruin,” Laura said. “There wasn’t anything, no matter how costly, that he wouldn’t purchase if he desired it enough.” She screwed up her face. Her stomach soured. “Perhaps he hoped to stave off creditors by selling me.”

With her emotions no longer raw, she could coldly talk about Westwick as if she were discussing a stranger. Her scars were still fading and she hoped one day not to see them every time she stood naked before a mirror.

“It’s possible,” Simon agreed. He looked softly at Laura. “You were his most valuable possession. It would have taken desperation to force him to part with you.”

A shimmer went through her as their gazes held. There were moments when his eyes fell on her that felt almost like a caress.

She tore her gaze away. “I did not feel valued.” Her hand came up to the hidden scar on her collarbone. Simon had
kissed the spot with such tenderness. “Though he did consider me his possession.”