Chapter Three
Lady Alwynne had experienced torture and abuse the likes of which even she could never have imagined.
She’d not been the best of women; in fact, her life had revolved around herself and her upward climb to the top of the social strata. She’d done what she considered necessary to get there, and only she knew what lines she’d crossed or morals she’d ignored.
It had been a long time since she’d wasted time evaluating her own worthiness. Especially since she’d found those two brilliant lads with their scientific magic—vapors she had inhaled regularly—and the effects still lingered, rendering her skin smooth and creamy.
Except where scars puckered the milky perfection, marking seams sewn by careful surgeons after they had repaired her bones and done what they could to put her back together.
She stirred a little in her large chair, the blanket covering her knees shifting as she crossed her legs at the ankles. There were bandages there still, but the splint had been removed. Her strength was slowly returning and she knew her own iron determination would carry her past this and onward to the future.
Hadn’t she wed Randall Harbury when everyone advised her against it, telling her he was deformed in visage and whispering of his brutal soul? That he had a shocking disease and was not long for this world? Those were minor inconveniences compared to the status that came with the position of Lady Harbury.
The horrors that came with that title had ultimately revealed themselves in all their terrible brutality. But that was something she could not yet resolve. Not until she was fully recovered.
Her gaze drifted from the flames in the white-tiled hearth to one of the tall windows, where her heavy blue velvet curtains had been drawn back, letting in the brilliant blaze of sun and snow.
She was surrounded by the ultimate in luxury; warm, cossetted and treated with the respect she’d always known should be hers. What were a few broken bones next to that?
She stared at the wintry landscape, with eyes that looked inward more than at the sharp blue sky or the ice-coated branches of the bare trees. She steered her thoughts away from what they’d done to secure the Hall.
Randall’s brother had been a half-mad drug addict in his final moments, and it had been quite simple to dispose of the only heir…his son Devon. A wrecked ship, a missing young Harbury allegedly lost at sea…and the thing was done. Once or twice Alwynne had wondered if he was still alive in the lower levels of the laboratories, but as time passed, even that idle curiosity faded into a distant memory. She had perfected the art of forgetting that which was unimportant to her.
Besides, those places weren’t designed to house anyone for a long time. And the experimental setup guaranteed eventual extinction. She knew that. It was a fact of life and science and the unique invention that powered just about everything.
The benefits however…they far outweighed any trivial concern about those patients.
She sighed. Now she would have to try and rebuild some sort of credibility in London with those who mattered. The scientific community prided itself on its rigid adherence to all that was good and beneficial for mankind.
That was a façade she knew to be completely artificial, because they were happy to turn a blind eye to any experimentation that failed to meet those criteria as long as money was involved. Like the rest of the world, scientists could be bought. It was just that now and again they were a darn sight more expensive.
She turned over ideas in her mind, trying to evaluate the potential of presenting herself as an invalid, using the attack as a way of appealing to her sources. She could beg them, prettily, to help her find a way to heal. Why yes, she had a scientific facility at her country estate. Would they care to visit and see if it would serve their needs?
That might work. But it might also nudge their memories of the gossip surrounding the “incident” as she referred to it. How else could she describe the atrocities?
No, she didn’t want to remind them of her catastrophic injuries. What she needed was something else. Something unexpected that would bring her attention and acclaim, mixed with perhaps just a soupçon of sympathy for her past troubles. Along with awe at her amazing recovery. She sought something that would lure those anxious to continue their work unhindered by governmental scrutiny.
With the current war ongoing in Asia, there must be some military projects looking for a private and secure location. The issue was all about reaching the right ears with the right information and yet not compromising her own situation any more than it was at present.
She pursed her lips and tapped them with one elegant finger. The war.
Hmm.
And then it came to her.
A Winter Ball.
A ball to honor the brave men serving at Her Majesty’s Pleasure, complete with veterans of the various theaters…and definitely an airship or two tethered in the grounds.
It would be extravagant, extraordinary and a way for Alwynne to reappear in society on her own terms, not theirs. Not as a wounded victim, but a triumphant survivor.
Just like the honored guests.
There were a few problems to be surmounted, of course. The first, and the most formidable, was Randall. He could not be allowed to ruin the occasion. If she could keep him away completely, all the better.
And the second was the actual organization.
Realistically, she was not yet able to gather the strength required to produce an event of this nature. She had no household staff skilled in such matters, since she’d hitherto taken a great deal of pleasure in making most of the arrangements herself and in addition, the numbers of their servants had dwindled since the…tragedies.
But once these two problems were solved—and she had no doubt she would arrive at some satisfactory answer to them—then the ball could take place with all the fanfare and accolades she desired.
A quiet tap on her door pulled her thoughts back into the warm parlor and away from the magnificence she was spinning in her mind.
“Yes?”
“Excuse me, my Lady.” The maid peered around the door. “Baron von Landau asks if you would allow him to visit. He has Lord Randall’s permission to see you.”
Trying not to grind her teeth at her husband’s high-handed control over her visitors, Alwynne nodded. “Please show the Baron in.”
Perhaps a guest was what she needed to spark more creativity in her mind. She’d languished in her recuperative period long enough. Her physical scars were healing.
Her psychological scars would never disappear, she knew. But if there was one thing Alwynne possessed in abundance, it was patience.
Her time would come.
And so would her revenge.
*~~*~~*
“I don’t know, James.”
Charlotte Howell looked thoughtful as she tucked her arm into Inspector Burke’s and strolled beside him through the bitter winter chill.
“We need an entree into that house, love. You know that. Until we have access…and I mean real access, freedom to get into places not ordinarily accessible…we simply won’t be able to produce enough evidence against the Harburys.”
She nodded. “I do understand, really I do. And nobody wants these two brought to justice more than me. After what they did to Devon—well, it’s beyond words. I suppose Portia could go back to the laboratories? That’s where the horrid experiments take place.”
“I can’t.” He sighed. “I just can’t let her go back there. After what went on at the Dower House…” He couldn’t find the words and his voice tapered off, leaving the sentence unfinished.
She patted his arm comfortingly. “I wouldn’t send Portia unaccompanied, James. I was thinking that somehow Devon could go with her. I just don’t quite see how that could be managed.” She sighed as well. “Unfortunately, she’s the only person who could freely wander.”
“Agreed. But no.” He frowned. “There must be another way. And I do believe that although the scientists work in the laboratories and we might possibly be able to gather a clue or two there, I think the real meat of this place lies above, in Harbury Hall. That’s where the records must be. The monies paid out for what and to whom.” He felt his jaw tighten. “That’s what we need, Charlotte. Solid hard evidence.”
“There speaks the Inspector.”
“Indeed. I know exactly what we want. I have a good idea where to find it. The only thing missing is the how.”
They walked in silence for a few moments, following the path they’d come to regard as theirs, since it provided a handy shortcut through the woods from Charlotte’s Applewood Cottage to James’s loaned base of operations just outside the Harbury estate. The half hour walk had become a pleasant break in their day and sometimes, as now, they took it just for the joy of sharing each other’s company.
And, since they were human and very attracted to each other, there was the occasional stop for a brief kiss.
After one such pause, James pulled Charlotte even closer to his chest, wrapping her in his warmth and letting her burrow her face against his woolen muffler. She felt so right there.
“Marry me.”
The words fell from his lips before he realized he’d spoken them aloud.
She tensed in his arms and raised her head to stare at him. Her eyes were round with shock. “What?”
He frowned. “You heard me. Marry me.”
“I don’t understand.”
Burke felt confused, his temper beginning to stir. He was asking the damn woman to share the rest of his life with him. In English. What couldn’t she understand?
“I. Want. You. To. Marry. Me.” Carefully, enunciating every syllable clearly, he asked again.
She shook her head. “I can’t believe this.”
He took a slow, even breath. He would not shout. He was a gentleman and gentlemen didn’t bellow at ladies while proposing to them, no matter what the provocation. “What can’t you believe?”
She blinked at him, her pure blue eyes wide. “You want me to marry you.”
Exasperated, he took a tenuous grip on his temper. “Yes. I do. That’s why I asked you.” His fingers tightened and restrained the urge to shake some sense into her to replace the wits she’d apparently lost at his spontaneous proposal.
“Why?”
He blew air out through pursed lips. “I’m starting to ask myself that same question.”
She freed her hands from his muffler and cupped them around his chin. “You really want to get married? To me?”
“Why are you so surprised, Charlotte? We’ve become so close. I know we haven’t known each other for years, or even been properly introduced, if it comes down to it. But does that matter? It doesn’t to me. I simply know what I want. And a few minutes ago I decided not to waste any more time. So yes. I want to get married. To you. I want to wake up next to you for the rest of my life. I want to go to bed with you every night of the rest of my life. And I want to spend as many of the hours in between with you as well.”
“Oh James.” She sighed the words, stroking his cheek with cool fingers.
He put his hands over hers, warming them and holding them fast against his skin. “So what do you think?”
She studied him, her thumbs brushing his chin. “I think…” Her luscious lips curved ever so slightly. “I think that sounds like a lovely idea.”
He swallowed. ”You mean…”
“Yes.”
Just one word, one little word. One syllable and Inspector Burke’s life changed forever. Something extraordinary should have happened—a ray of sunshine should have speared the winter gloom, but it didn’t. Or perhaps a bird should have burst into song. But there was no sound other than the occasional plop of snow dropping from bowed branches.
He did the only thing he could do. He offered up a heartfelt prayer. “Thank God.”
And then he kissed her, tenderly at first, gently, afraid to frighten her with the intensity of the emotions roiling inside him at that moment.
But he didn’t have to worry. She lifted herself up on tiptoe and kissed him back, her enthusiasm igniting the desire he knew smoldered just beneath his control. Her mouth opened in response to the urging of his tongue and she gave him back touch for touch, kiss for kiss, breath for breath.
It was more than a few minutes before they gathered themselves and resumed their walk.
“I don’t have a ring, dammit.”
Charlotte chuckled. “Actually that’s a good thing. It shows it was a perfectly spontaneous eruption of genuine emotion.”
“Really?”
“Either that or you’re simply a man who doesn’t think ahead. But I don’t believe that. So I’m going with a passions-of-the-moment theory.”
He paused, his hand on her arm drawing her to a standstill. “It wasn’t planned, Charlotte. But I think I’ve been in love with you since you opened your door in that absurd cap with the ribbon all askew.”
“I know, James. I know. It took me until you ate my scones, about five minutes later. Then I knew I was lost. I don’t mind about a ring. It’s a symbol. What we have doesn’t need such things.”
“I will get you one, of course.”
“You’d better.” She looked smug. “A woman only says yes once, you know. And at our age, you’d better make it a big one so nobody misses it.”
His laugh startled a flock of birds nearby. “I will, my darling. The biggest I can afford.”
She nodded in satisfaction. “That’s good. But, wonderful though all this is, it still leaves us with the problem of Harbury.”
He pulled her close. “I will not have you involved in it, Charlotte. I never wanted to involve you and now? No way in hell will I let you near that godforsaken nightmare.”
“We have just committed to being partners for life, James. I love you and respect you. I hope you feel the same about me. Because if you start being all protective and husbandly, keeping me away from what’s going on, there are going to be some very serious arguments marring our engagement.” She glanced up at him, her gaze intense.
He sighed. “I know. I will try my best not to be a nuisance about this. But I want you safe and by my side for many years, love. If I think a situation is going to turn dangerous…” He shook his head. “I won’t apologize for my actions because I will never be able to erase some of the things I’ve seen. Don’t ask that of me?”
Charlotte looked ahead. “Bad things are happening, darling. I know it’s your job to try and stop whoever is doing them. And although you’ve been a soldier and seen your share of war, your face told me all I needed to know after that terrible night.”
She pulled his arm tightly against her body. “I promise I will never do anything foolhardy or silly. I don’t want to see that look again, ever. But I will also say that I promise to be at your side whenever I can. Don’t leave me out please? That would cause me pain. Better to talk to me and let us decide together what needs to be done.”
He nodded. “Agreed.” Then he smiled as a ray of sunlight actually appeared over the path ahead. “Could we possibly make a joint decision when we reach Applewood Cottage?”
She glanced up, her eyes alight with mischief. “What kind of decision would that be, Inspector?”
“Hmm.” He quickened their pace. “It might well require some very intense communication. One that takes place best without the distraction of clothing.”
“Ahh.” She looked intrigued. “I believe I would very much enjoy such a discussion.” Her tongue slid out and licked her lips. “Very much indeed.”
He fought the urge to break into a run.