The Wicked Deeds of Daniel Mackenzie

Violet wasn’t sure what the exchange meant, but Daniel was beaming. “Violet, come and meet my uncle Ian. The most maddening man in the world.”

Violet didn’t understand that either, but she stepped forward and held out her hand. “Pleased to meet you, my lord.”

Lord Ian Mackenzie was tall, like the other Mackenzies she’d met, and broad of shoulder, with dark red hair. But he was different from the others as well. While he shared the restless energy she’d seen in Daniel and Cameron, Ian channeled his into a focus that was more intense even than Daniel’s.

Ian remained motionless for a moment or two, then he clasped Violet’s hand as though he had to remember the correct response to the gesture. Ian’s grip was plenty strong, though, no hesitation or shyness.

He withdrew his hand with the same slow deliberation and remained standing in front of Violet. Ian’s gaze met hers fleetingly, then moved past, but Violet knew she was still the subject of his attention.

There was a stillness about him Violet hadn’t seen in Daniel, a calm he’d found, but she sensed it had come only after a long struggle. Ian was not a man who would be effusive, she decided, but not because he had nothing to say. Violet saw behind the amber eyes thoughts from the fleeting to the most profound, chasing one after the other.

“She was worth finding, don’t you think?” Daniel asked Ian. “I am forever in your debt.”

Ian again met Violet’s gaze very briefly then turned back to the motorcar. “Worth finding,” Ian said. “But easy to find.”

Daniel rolled his eyes. “Easy, he says. All I had to go on was a false name and that you vanished from Mortimer’s house in the middle of the night. Oh, certainly. I should have found you in a trice.”

Ian’s answering words came out in a monotone, each one the same speed and emphasis. “Names are not important. You asked me to look for one middle-aged woman, one young woman, and one maidservant. Five such parties purchased tickets on trains from London on that night. Two went west to Somerset and Dorset and to middle-class homes and families. One went north to Leeds—a cook, a lady’s maid, and a maidservant to work in a house. Two parties went to the Continent. One went north. They spoke Dutch and the mother and daughter were leading members of their church. The final set went to Marseille. A few days after they arrived, advertisements for the Countess Melikova and Princess Ivanova went up in the streets. You told me they worked as mediums, and Countess Melikova was billed as a clairvoyant. Simple.”

Violet listened to his speech, eyes widening. “Good heavens, how did you know where all those people went and that they bought tickets, and so forth? And that they spoke Dutch?”

“Telegrams,” Ian said.

“Add to that the fact that Uncle Ian knows everyone in Great Britain and half of France,” Daniel said. “The one thing he stated in all that was the most interesting bit: Names are not important. Ian looked for the people, not the names. Names, as you know, are so easily changed.”

Violet’s face warmed. “So I have heard.”

Daniel shot her a grin. “This means you’ll never be safe from me, Vi. No matter how far or fast you run, I’ll find you. I will tear apart the world looking for you. I guarantee that.”

The intensity of his look made Violet shiver. He meant it.

Ian had lost interest in them. He gave the motorcar one last look, then he walked out of the room to the hall. “Beth is waiting,” he said over his shoulder.

“And that is that,” Daniel said. He held out his arm to Violet. “Time to go, love. Welcome to my crazy family.”

They stayed in London three days. During that time, Daniel watched Violet relax, little by little, into the bosom of the Mackenzie family.

His choice of having her stay with Ian and Beth had been wise. Violet would have remained quiet and withdrawn against the power of Hart, and even against the exuberance of Isabella and Mac. Violet’s mother withstood Hart, Daniel saw, because she was so absorbed in her own world that she didn’t notice him. The way Hart’s stern power bounced off Celine was a delight to watch.

Beth, of all the Mackenzie ladies, had grown up a pauper, in the rougher areas of London, which gave her something in common with Violet. They’d both struggled to survive and had suffered cruelty. Daniel caught Violet and Beth once or twice in deep, serious conversation, which broke off when Daniel entered the room. And then they’d look mysterious—or worse, laugh.

Daniel used the time in London to run errands and get his motorcar taken apart and packed into crates. Simon, who’d arrived a day after Daniel with the rest of the baggage, kept a watchful eye on things. Once Daniel was certain his engine was safely away to Berkshire, to be met by Cameron’s trusted man, Angelo, Daniel turned his attention to his most important errand.

He visited Mr. Sutton in his Park Lane home, this time sending word ahead for an appointment. When he arrived, the thin, spare Mr. Sutton saw him in the same quietly luxurious study that Daniel had been ushered to before.

Daniel had decided after debating with himself not to use Ian’s skills for this matter. The way could grow dangerous, and Ian wouldn’t bother to hide what he was doing. Ian could take care of himself, but Beth would never forgive Daniel for putting Ian in any kind of danger.

Sutton waited for Daniel to seat himself before he began, without preliminary. “I see in your eyes again that what you want me to do is about a woman. I believe I made clear that I have no interest in domestic troubles.”