Chapter 20
How Jeremy wished Evie would not learn the truth like this. He had wanted to tell her on his own terms, in his own way. He had wanted to explain everything and convince her of his sincerity. Pressing his lips together, he fought the words wanting to roll up his throat and out of his mouth. He bit down hard and tried to focus on something else.
Elder clasped his hands behind his back and leaned down. “Well, Rogue? Are you lawfully married to Lady Evie?”
“Her name is Lady Fielding,” Jeremy gasped out. “She is my wife, truly and lawfully.”
At Evie’s gasp, he glanced up and found her staring down with wide eyes full of fear and disbelief. “But…but it was supposed to keep Montague away.” She stumbled back a step. “It wasn’t supposed to be real. Tell them.”
Jeremy nodded. “That was your plan, little bird, not mine.”
Evie made a choking noise, then spun around and ran for the door. Dragon pulled it open and let her escape. Jeremy started to rise and go after her but Belle stopped him.
“Wait. I have another question for you.”
His legs shook with the effort to ignore Belle and go after his wife. Her stricken expression tormented him. It reminded him much too much of the past and everything he had done to her. All the pain and hurt he had brought to her. It tore through his heart, making it beat in thick, heavy thuds.
He gritted his teeth until his legs gave out and he fell back against the chair, panting. “Please be quick about it.”
“Why did you marry my niece?”
With a groan, Jeremy raised his head. “Montague was going to kill her. She had to be protected.”
Belle crossed her arms. “Is that the only reason?”
“No.”
“Tell me everything, then.”
Pressing a hand to his heart, Jeremy nodded. “I never wanted to hurt Evie. But I did, and I cannot tell you how much I regret that.” He took a deep breath and continued. “I never knew how strong and courageous she was. How smart and dedicated.” He smiled. “Fearless and loyal.” Glancing up at Belle, he continued. “Honestly, I do not deserve her, but I had to have her. So, to keep her safe and to atone for hurting her in the past, I married her.” He shook his head. “But those reasons pale in comparison to my true motivation,” he added softly.
A small smile played around the corners of Belle’s mouth. “And what is that?”
“I love her.”
“Then, why don’t you tell her?”
Rubbing his eyes with a thumb and forefinger, Jeremy could detect the slightest ache developing behind his temples. “She will not believe me. Not yet. I have to show her, first.” Then he lowered his arm and glanced to Elder. “I meant what I said about not having her join this organization. I can’t lose her now.”
The man inclined his head. “Worry not, Rogue. Lady Fielding will not be a Guardian.”
As the fog started to lift and Jeremy gained more control, he stood and stretched his stiff muscles. “One thing I can say about the potion, it’s powerful.” He reached for the vial and Belle handed it over. “Where did you get it?”
Belle nodded toward the door. “Evie got it from Lady Amersleigh.”
“I should have known,” he said, slipping the vial into his coat. “Not one word about my embarrassing admissions, either,” he added, realizing Dragon had already gone, then slipped out the door.
Racing up the steps, Jeremy knew he had to find Evie and try to explain. How much should he tell her? He slid back the latch on the secret door at the top of the stairs and watched it slowly move to the side, throwing a puff of white sand into the air. Listening for movement and hearing nothing, he left the shadowy entrance and stepped out into the museum.
Hoping to find Evie standing close, he glanced from one end of the dim room to the other and frowned. Where the deuce had she gone? Surely, she wouldn’t have left alone. It wasn’t safe, he thought, turning toward the doorway. Perhaps Dragon had gone with her. He listened for sounds of the two walking about but heard nothing. His heart picked up speed as he moved from one empty room to the next.
“Evie?” he called, then stopped to listen as the echo of his voice faded down the vacant corridors.
Coming to the unsettling conclusion she had left the building, he walked to the only unlocked door and slipped out into the darkness. The drizzle had eased into an annoying mist that clung to his hair and clothes. Jeremy ignored it as he glanced around the thick, tall columns and down the steps. Nothing moved in the misty air and all he heard was a door slam in the distance and the squeak of a carriage wheel somewhere down the road.
Then he realized the hack he had hired was gone. Making his way down the steps, he wondered if another hack would happen by soon. Then something near the bottom step caught his eye. What was that? He moved closer and sucked in a breath. Then he snatched up the Viper card from the ground.
His hand trembled as he stared at the silver coiled snake, then he turned the card over. His blood froze when he read Montague’s sweeping scrawl.
Did you think I would let her go that easily?
“What is it?” Belle asked, coming up behind him.
Wordlessly, he handed the card to her. “This cannot be,” she whispered, then glanced up with wide eyes. “What are we going to do?”
Hearing the clip-clop of horse hooves, Jeremy turned to see a coach moving toward them. “Elder told me about the man you captured,” he said, then glanced back at Belle.
She drew her brows and handed the card back to him, then gasp as understanding dawned. “You think he knows where Evie might be?”
Jeremy threw up his hand as the coach neared, hoping the driver would stop for him. “We must find out.”
The coach rattled to a halt and Jeremy recognized the Ashton coat of arms. He groaned as the door flew open and Ash hopped out, glancing around. “Fielding, where’s my sister?”
Jeremy started to say something when Belle came forward. “Ash, my dear, Evie is with friends this evening.” She latched onto his arm and led him back to his coach. “Will you be a dear and take us to Covent Garden?” Grinning over her shoulder, she added, “Lord Fielding has kindly agreed to take me to the theater tonight.”
Ash smiled down to his aunt. “Of course.”
They piled into the coach and turned south. Jeremy listened to Belle and Ash with only half an ear. His mind could only hold on to thoughts of Evie, his imagination exploring the most horrible scenarios. Men in black hoods…silver pentagrams…sharp knives…blood-filled chalices.
He bowed his head, wanting to rage at the injustice. It should have been him taken. He was the one who had wronged an innocent young girl. He slept with other men’s wives. He lied and cheated.
Evie was pure and innocent. She was truly good. She didn’t deserve any of this. Rubbing his temples with two fingers, Jeremy leaned back in his seat and listened to Belle entertain Ash with stories of him and Evie as small children. He nearly groaned out loud. Now, Ash was responding with stories of his own. He didn’t want to hear…
The familiar name had him looking up.
“…Thought that was the strangest name. Myran Millman. But Father nearly boxed my ears when we arrived at Windermere. Then I saw the poor dead baby and actually thought it was my fault for teasing him.”
Jeremy leaned forward. “I believe you are mistaken, Ash. Myran is the son of my mother’s young aunt, and he isn’t dead. In fact, he is at my house right now recovering. Remember, you thought it was me?”
Ash drew his brows and shook his head. “Father and I had come to your estate that day to see your two-day-old brother and the one born just that morning to your aunt. I may have only been seven years old, but I’ll never forget the visit. Walking up the steps, we heard shots fired. While father went to investigate, I sneaked away to take a peek at the babies.” The man dropped his gaze to his lap, his wide shoulders shaking. “One was blue and stiff. That is something you never forget.” He took a deep breath. “Your mother was there, trying to console a crying woman.” Glancing up, he shook his head. “It was not your mother holding the dead baby, sobbing that her sweet little Myran couldn’t really be gone.”
The coach came to a halt and Jeremy assisted Belle to the ground. They thanked Ash and he watched the shiny black vehicle roll away. People milled about, walking up to the theater, and Jeremy turned to Belle. “Where to?”
She raised a brow. “I half expected you to return and speak with your mother.”
He shook his head. “We must find Evie. Anything having to do with my family can wait. Besides, Ash is mistaken.” He cleared his throat, rarely speaking about this to anyone. “My mother had a son who died just after birth, not Aunt Winifred. I was away at Eaton at the time but remember when I came home for Christmas holiday two weeks later.” He nodded to Lady Langdon as she walked by, who gave a sultry half-smile in return. Then he glanced back down at Belle. “Where do we go?”
She nodded over at the carriages rolling away from the theater. “What street is this?”
“Bow Street,” he answered with a shrug, then understanding dawned and he rocked back on his heels. So, the Runners had the man. With a nod, he casually followed Belle along the front of the theater, then with a glance around to make sure no one watched them, turned down the side of the building. They came around to the back, where a large man stood guard before the door.
He jerked to attention, then relaxed when he recognized them. Pushing back his hat, he nodded and opened the door.
Jeremy followed Belle midway down the corridor, turned left and descended a set of narrow stone stairs to the lower level of the building. Several men greeted them as they walked to the far end of the room, where the cells were located. A lamp burned in the middle of a scarred oak table, where Mr. Wright sat reading the paper and holding a cup of tea.
Belle greeted the middle-aged man with a wide smile as he rose from his seat and fumbled with replacing the teacup in the saucer.
“We are here to question this man,” she said and motioned to the cell over her left shoulder.
Mr. Wright unclipped his keyring from his belt, shaking his head. “We have tried getting information from him, but he refuses to say one word. Some believe he is mute.”
Jeremy turned to the man sitting on a wooden stool in the corner and knew that wasn’t the case. “His name is Bartholomew Morris and he can speak very well.”
Mr. Morris narrowed his eyes, but remained seated and silent.
Belle turned to Mr. Wright. “We will need some men to hold him down.” She nodded to Jeremy and he removed the vial from his pocket, then she lowered her voice. “Long enough to administer five drops.”
Mr. Wright nodded and gathered the men. He opened the cell and after a short scuffle, five Runners had Mr. Morris pinned firmly to the ground. Belle held out her hand. “Allow me,” she said.
With a nod, Jeremy handed over the vial. When one of the men held Mr. Morris’ mouth open, Belle stepped forward and administered five drops in between the man’s yellow, crooked teeth. Then she smiled, bent down and whispered something into his ear.
Jeremy folded his arms and watched, wondering if the man would spit the bitter liquid out. Instead, Mr. Morris swallowed, glancing up at Belle with wide, stunned eyes.
She backed out of the cell with a chuckle and handed the vial back to Jeremy.
Leaning over, he asked, “What did you tell him?”
“I told him the drops would kill him.”
Jeremy glanced down and raised his brow.
Belle shrugged as she watched the men place Mr. Morris back onto the stool and leave the cell. “I figured if the man was loyal enough to Viper, he would swallow. If not, he wouldn’t.” She sighed. “Either way, we would know how to go about questioning him.”
They waited until the man relaxed, slipping off the stool and landing on the stone floor with a thud. He lolled his head back, his eyes unfocused and large.
“Don’t tell me I looked like that,” Jeremy said with a frown as he followed Belle into the cell.
She grinned and shook her head. “You didn’t drool.”
Jeremy glanced over and found Mr. Morris raising his head as clear liquid poured from the corner of his mouth, right onto his dusty gray coat. “Thank God,” he whispered and crossed his arms. “Where is Montague?” he demanded.
The man drew his brows together, clearly fighting against having to answer the question, and opened his mouth. “Lord Skeffington’s hunting lodge.”
“Who is Viper?” Belle asked.
Morris moved his head from side to side. “I do not know. Only Lord Montague knows.”
“Why does Montague dress in a black robe and wear a pentagram?”
“His great-grandfather started a secret society where the members believe sacrifice gains them power and wealth.” Morris lifted his head and gave a twisted smile. “I can’t say it hasn’t worked.”
Jeremy glanced down to Belle and knew she had the same question. He looked back at Morris. “If Lord Montague were to recapture Lady Fielding, what would he do to her?” Obviously, the man had been here and wouldn’t know Evie had been taken. Jeremy watched closely as Morris scrunched up his face and thought about the question for several seconds.
“Lord Montague will kill her.” He rubbed his nose with a dirty sleeve. “It no longer matters to him if she is sacrificed in one of his rituals. Lord Montague wants the lady dead.”