Bedlam had been as awful as she had remembered it.
The only advantage this time was that she got to watch as the Duchess of Ashland was unchained and carried through the hospital corridors under the chilling direction of not one, but two, dukes. Her expert opinion and services had not even been needed, at least when it came to Miriam. When it came to Noah, however, she’d stayed as close to his side as she dared.
He’d gone white as a sheet as he’d entered the building. And though it might have been a new building with halls that were less crowded and walls that were unmarred by cracks and rotting masonry, the sounds and the smells would have been the same. The constant din he had described, the lingering stench of urine and too many bodies.
Yet he’d stridden through the institution without hesitation, tight-lipped and stone-faced, issuing orders with precision and control. It was only when they were unchaining the limp, unconscious duchess that Noah had pressed himself against her for support. The heavy clanking of the chains as the keepers frantically worked the key at the duchess’s ankle had his fist curling unseen into the back of her coat where they stood, as if he needed to anchor himself to something.
And then they’d released the duchess and Noah had released Elise, and within a half hour they were back in the Duke of Alderidge’s carriage. They’d let Elise out a quarter mile from Covent Square before the driver had urged the horses on, heading out past the edges of London, to Ashland’s closest estate, near Kilburn. Lady Abigail had already left that morning, not happy about leaving her brother but unable to argue with the fact that the duchess was going to need a great deal of care if she was to recover. Noah would return to the house in Mayfair by early evening, but as Alderidge had said, the first domino had been tipped and now the others behind were falling faster and faster.
The Duke of Ashland would entertain tonight, a small, informal soiree arranged by Ivory. This was Ivory’s specialty, this subtle and skillful manipulation of society, and she did it better and with more cunning than anyone. Elise’s role in the instating of Noah Ellery to the Ashland title was drawing to a close.
Tonight two earls and a viscount, along with their wives, would offer their condolences but profess their delight and pleasure that Noah was back safely to take over where his father had left off. There would be a carefully staged ride along Rotten Row tomorrow afternoon, where a marquess and the wealthy widow of a baron would create a very public, joyful scene as they welcomed the new Duke of Ashland back to London. And there were more arranged events just like those, each time and location chosen with deliberation, each person selected with meticulousness and made to understand exactly what might be at stake for him or her. And all were encouraged to share with others the news of their happy meeting with the new duke.
As Elise watched Alderidge’s carriage disappear from sight down the road, she now fully understood just how far out of her reach Noah Ellery had already slipped. By the end of the week, Elise would witness the final act in the production that would see the Duke of Ashland assert his full dominion and power and take control of the life that had always been his.
A life where she would not fit. She had known that all along. But it didn’t keep a black, yawning chasm of emptiness from making her feel like a hollowed shell of who she had once been.
Her eyes blurring, Elise turned from the spot where the carriage had been and started walking. She’d reached Covent Square and had almost made it to the stone steps of Chegarre & Associates when a man stepped into her path.
“Good afternoon, Doctor.”
Elise stopped, her hand tightening around the handle of her doctor’s bag as pale eyes inspected her disguise with interest. “King.”
The man flicked a nonexistent piece of dust from the front of his coat. “I wonder, for the number of times I see you in the guise of some sort of physician, if you’ve actually picked up any doctor-type knowledge.”
Elise cleared her throat and selected her words carefully. “I know when a man’s throat is slit, the blood pumps bright red and in copious amounts. I know that when a rifle bullet lodges itself in the muscle of a second man’s leg, that blood is darker, the bleeding slower, and it will take him longer to die.”
King tipped his head, his red-gold hair glinting in the sunlight. “Indeed?”
“Noah Ellery knows this too.”
His pale eyes shifted. “I see.”
“I thought you might.”
“The Duke of Ashland is back in London.” It wasn’t a question.
She was not surprised. “He is.”
“I’m impressed, Miss DeVries. It would seem that your services are worth every penny. And then some.”
“What do you want from him, King?” Elise asked, tired of the game.
The man looked thoughtful. “You care for him.”
Elise ignored the way her heart thumped erratically and painfully. “He is a client, King. I care about all my clients,” she said, aiming for bored impatience.
“Of course you do.” He ground the tip of his walking stick into the dust at their feet. “Tell me, Miss DeVries, did you disclose my involvement in this…affair to your duke?”
“Of course not.” She left it at that, knowing that anything else might betray the conclusions that she had only so recently drawn regarding the past that these two men shared.
His cold eyes impaled hers. “Strangely enough, I believe you.”
“Good. Now what do you want, King?” she asked again.
“Only to settle my account in full.”
“I beg your pardon?”
King extracted a small velvet bag from the inside of his coat and pulled at the string. From the depths of the bag, diamonds sparkled, a thousand rainbows trapped in brilliant stones. “I regret that I don’t have coin on hand. But in truth it’s bulky and difficult to transport with any discretion. I trust that these will cover the outstanding balance I owe to the duchess and yourself.” He closed the bag and held it out to her.
She accepted it, her hand closing around the velvet. “Your debt has been settled then.”
King straightened his shoulders. “Not quite yet.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means not quite yet.” He turned then, disappearing back into the crowded market, and Elise was left standing on the steps of Chegarre & Associates, clutching a bag of diamonds and understanding nothing.