Dangerous

Chapter Fifteen

Sebastian knew Prudence was going to scold him as soon as the door closed behind Jeremy. He was not in the mood for it.

She whirled around to confront him the instant Jeremy had left the room. Behind the lenses of her spectacles, her eyes sparkled with outrage. "How could you be so unkind to poor Jeremy?"

"I assure you, it was not in the least difficult." Sebastian set Luci­fer on the desk and got to his feet. He was going to be forced to help Jeremy. He knew it, but he did not have to like it.

The prospect of helping out a Fleetwood made Sebastian feel short-tempered and henpecked. At a time like this a man needed his club. Unfortunately, he could not avail himself of the traditional mas­culine refuge because he had an appointment to keep. But at least he had an excuse to escape the house, he thought.

"It was most uncivil of you, sir. Surely you could see that your cousin is under a dreadful strain. He needs help and reassurance. I insist that you do not play any more games with him, Sebastian."

"And I insist that you cease interfering in my affairs, madam." Sebastian stalked around the edge of the desk. "Furthermore, I am in no mood to be lectured on the manner in which I choose to treat my bloody relatives."

Prudence folded her arms beneath her breasts and tapped one slippered toe. "You know perfectly well that you are going to help your cousin. Why did you make him think otherwise?"

Sebastian lounged against the edge of his desk. "What makes you think I'm going to help him?"

She gave him a fulminating look. "There cannot be any question of it."

"On the contrary, madam." Sebastian smiled blandly. "As far as I am concerned, there is most definitely a question. I have already done a great deal for my ungrateful cousin. Or have you forgotten that on two very recent occasions I have concealed evidence that implicated him in the deaths of two men?"

Prudence bit her lip. "You didn't actually conceal it, my lord. You simply returned it to the rightful owner."

"Who may very well be the killer."

"Mr. Fleetwood did not kill Oxenham or Ringcross. I am certain of it."

"I'm glad you are so certain, because I am not"

"How can you say that?" Prudence demanded.

"Let me put it this way." Sebastian straightened and started for the door. "If I thought I knew the names of four men who had been involved in my lady's death, I would not hesitate to murder each and every one of them."

Prudence unfolded her arms and gaped at him in astonishment. "Sebastian? What are you saying? That you understand why your cousin may have killed those men?"

"I understand perfectly well why he may have done so." Sebastian had his hand on the doorknob.

Prudence brightened. "Then surely you want to help him, even if you do think he's guilty."

"Not necessarily. I still have my own objectives to consider." Se­bastian opened the door and glanced back over his shoulder. "And I assure you that helping Fleetwoods has never been one of them. As far as I am concerned, I have done more than enough for Jeremy. He has been warned. I owe him nothing else in the way of assistance."

"But Sebastian—"

Sebastian went through the door and closed it quickly. He heard the soft patter of Prudence's slippered feet running across the carpet and knew he had only seconds to get safely out the front door.

"Tell her ladyship I will not be back until this afternoon, Flowers."

Flowers gave him a reproachful look as he handed Sebastian his hat and his gloves. "Yes, my lord."

The library door was flung wide just as Flowers opened the front door for Sebastian.

"My lord, wait," Prudence called urgently. "Damn it, Angelstone, come back here."

"Sorry, I must be off, my dear. I fear I am late for an appoint­ment." Sebastian went swiftly down the steps to the sidewalk.

Prudence stood in the doorway behind him. "I'm not through talk­ing to you."

"I'm aware of that," Sebastian muttered under his breath as he reached the safety of the sidewalk. She could not follow him out into the street, he assured himself.

"Coward," Prudence shouted from the top of the steps.

Sebastian saw several people stop and turn to stare in shock at the sight of the Countess of Angelstone yelling after her husband like a fishwife.

Sebastian could not resist turning around, too. Prudence was standing in the doorway, glaring furiously. Even as he watched, she stamped one small foot in exasperation.

Directly behind her loomed Flowers with an unholy grin on his normally dour face. It occurred to Sebastian that he had never seen Flowers smile like that.

Sebastian's spirits lightened abruptly. He found himself grinning, too, in spite of his bedeviled mood. In addition to a host of other endearing wifely virtues, Prudence could play the shrew. Fresh confir­mation of what he already knew, Sebastian decided. Life with her would never be dull.

He hailed a hackney coach and gave the coachman the familiar direction of the coffeehouse near the docks. He vaulted up into the cab, sat down, and pulled Whistlecroft's latest message out of his pocket. It had arrived an hour and a half earlier.

Must see yr lordship as soon as possible. Very urgent. I'll be at the usual place shortly after noon.

Yrs. W.

He had not been lying when he had told Prudence that he was late for an appointment, Sebastian thought. He pulled his watch out of his pocket and saw that it was already twenty after twelve. It would not hurt Whistlecroft to wait. Sebastian settled back to contemplate the interview with Jeremy.

Half an hour later the hackney drew up in front of the coffee­house. Sebastian alighted and walked inside. Whistlecroft had com­mandeered their usual booth.

"Glad ye could make it on such short notice, m'lord." Whistlecroft wiped his nose on his well-used handkerchief. "I feared ye might not show. We've got a problem with the client."

"What sort of problem?" Sebastian signaled for a mug of coffee.

"He's gettin‘ anxious, he is. Seems Lord Oxenham was found dead in his study last night. Curling's very agitated. He seems to think there's a connection." Whistlecroft eyed Sebastian closely. "He wants to know why I ain't makin' any progress on the investigation, m'lord."

"Does he, indeed?" Sebastian looked at his mug of coffee as it was set down in front of him. "Just how anxious would you say your client is?"

Whistlecroft snorted and sniffed a few times. Then he leaned for­ward and lowered his voice. "If I didn't know better, I'd say he's afraid he might be next."

"Interesting." Sebastian considered that briefly. So Curling was getting anxious. Probably because he knew there were only two Princes of Virtue left: himself and Bloomfield. "You may tell your client that you are making progress and expect to solve the case very shortly."

Whistlecroft slitted his eyes. "Yer sure of that, are ye? Because my client says if I can't find out who's behind the deaths of Ringcross and Oxenham very soon, he's going to hire another Runner."

"Do not concern yourself, Whistlecroft. I have every hope that you will be able to collect your reward for another successful investiga­tion."

"Trust so." Whistlecroft looked glum. "Now that we're living in a house of our own, me wife wants to put in one of them water closets like the fancies got. Told her the privy in the garden worked just fine, but she's got her heart set on havin‘ one indoors. You know how women are when they make up their minds."

"I'm learning."

At three o'clock that afternoon Prudence returned from a trip to a bookshop. She was still fuming over Sebastian's cowardly retreat earlier in the day. The fact that she had found several interesting volumes on spectral phenomena had done nothing to sweeten her temper.

She was in the library examining her purchases when Flowers an­nounced that she had a visitor.

"Mrs. Fleetwood to see you, madam." Flowers paused respectfully and then added smoothly, "I shall, of course, be happy to inform her that you are not at home."

"No, no, that's all right." Prudence glanced critically down at her attire. Thank heavens she was wearing one of her new gowns, she thought. It was a pale lavender muslin trimmed with matching ribbon and several rows of flounces around the hem. It seemed a bit fussy and frilly to Prudence, but according to Hester the gown was very a la mode. Drucilla Fleetwood would not be able to fault it. "Show her in, Flowers."

Alarm lit Flowers's houndlike features. "Perhaps you misunder­stood, madam. It's Mrs. Fleetwood who is calling. His lordship's aunt."

"I heard you, Flowers. Show her in here, please. And have tea sent in, will you?"

Flowers cleared his throat with a small cough. "If I might make a suggestion, madam. It would perhaps be best to wait until his lordship returns home in order to seek his opinion on whether or not he wishes his aunt to be received."

"This happens to be my home now as well as Angelstone's," Pru­dence said coolly. Nothing could have been more calculated to annoy her at this particular moment than the notion of asking Sebastian's opinion on who she should and should not receive. "Show Mrs. Fleet­wood in, Flowers, or I shall show her in myself."

"Yes, madam. But I would be most humbly grateful if you would give me your word that you will inform his lordship that receiving Mrs. Fleetwood was your idea," Flowers said dolefully.

"Of course." Prudence wrinkled her nose in exasperation. "For heaven's sake, Flowers, there is no need to go about in fear of his lordship. He is a perfectly reasonable man."

"Allow me to tell you, madam, that you are probably the only person on earth who sees his lordship in quite that light."

Prudence smiled wryly. "Do not concern yourself, Flowers. I shall deal with his lordship."

"Yes, madam." Flowers gave her an odd look. "I am beginning to believe you might very well do just that." He backed respectfully out of the library.

A moment later Drucilla was ushered into the room. She made a grand entrance in a beautifully cut green gown. Her velvet pelisse was done in a slightly darker hue. It matched the elegant little hat perched at a clever angle on her head. Prudence noticed that there was only one small row of flounces around the hem of the gown.

"Good day, madam." Prudence rose politely. "What an unex­pected surprise. Please be seated. I have sent for tea. I do hope you will join me in a cup?"

"Thank you." Drucilla scanned Prudence's heavily trimmed gown with a shuttered gaze, but she said nothing. She lowered herself grace­fully into a chair. Her spine did not touch the back.

The housekeeper appeared with the tea tray. She wore a look of impending doom as she dutifully set the tray down near Prudence.

"Thank you, Mrs. Banks," Prudence said. "I shall pour."

"Yes, madam. Expect his lordship will have something to say about this," Mrs. Banks muttered.

Prudence pretended that she had not heard the comment. She handed a cup of tea to Drucilla as the library door closed behind Mrs. Banks.

"How kind of you to pay me a visit, Mrs. Fleetwood."

"You needn't act as if this were a social call." Drucilla set her cup and saucer down on a nearby table. "I am here on extremely urgent business. Lord knows that only the most dire necessity would bring me to this house."

"I see. What sort of business would that be?" Prudence asked cautiously.

"Family business."

"Ah, yes. Family business."

Drucilla straightened her already extremely straight shoulders. "I have had a long talk with my son. He tells me he is the victim of a most malicious set of circumstances."

Prudence stifled a small groan. She had hoped Jeremy would not feel compelled to drag his mother into the situation. Prudence's intu­ition had told her it would be easier to keep Sebastian working on the investigation if Drucilla were not involved.

"What has Jeremy told you, madam?"

"That someone, very probably Angelstone, is playing a cruel game. Angelstone apparently claims to have found evidence that implicates my son in the deaths of two men. That is utter rubbish, of course. Angelstone is obviously lying."

Prudence frowned. "I assure you Angelstone is not lying."

"He certainly is. There is no other explanation. It is clear to me that he has concocted some devious scheme to avenge himself on the rest of us."

"Angelstone did not invent the evidence against Jeremy," Pru­dence said.

"Do not contradict me, madam. I have given the matter a great deal of thought. There is only one explanation for what is happening. Angelstone intends to use my son as a pawn in order to bring scandal and ruin down on the family. I will not have it."

Prudence's sympathy for the woman vanished beneath a wave of hot outrage. "I assure you, Angelstone is not responsible for the situa­tion in which Jeremy finds himself. In fact, Angelstone has gone out of his way to keep the evidence from falling into the hands of the author­ities."

"Bah."

"It's true." Prudence slammed her teacup down on its saucer. "Al­low me to inform you, madam, that if Angelstone had not acted to prevent it, Jeremy might already have been arrested."

"My son had nothing to do with the deaths of those two men. He does not even know them."

"He may very well have to prove that, madam. Because the way things are going, Jeremy is in danger of becoming entangled in a very sticky web."

"A web woven by your husband." Drucilla's voice was rising.

"That is a lie. Why would my husband want to see Jeremy arrested for murder?"

"For the sake of vengeance." Drucilla's mouth formed a thin, bit­ter line. "He hates all of us. He knows what the scandal of a murder charge would do to the family."

"I happen to know for a fact that Angelstone has no intention of avenging himself on the Fleetwoods because of what happened in the past. You are safe enough on that score, madam."

"So you say." Drucilla gave her a scornful look. "But you never knew his side of the family. You never met Angelstone's father." A strange expression flashed briefly in her eyes. "As it happens, I knew him rather well."

Prudence sat very still. It occurred to her that the look she had glimpsed a moment ago in Drucilla's eyes might have been pain. "Did you?"

"Oh, yes. Yes, indeed." Drucilla made a small, oddly savage ges­ture with her elegantly gloved hand. "The man had no respect for family tradition. No sense of his responsibilities. He was cruel and callous and his son takes after him."

Prudence was shocked in spite of herself at the deep bitterness that blazed in the older woman. There was something more here than the disapproval of a domineering matriarch.

"That is a very sweeping statement, Mrs. Fleetwood. How did you come to know Angelstone's father well enough to make such a judg­ment?"

"At one time," Drucilla said coldly, "there was talk of marriage between myself and Angelstone's father. It came to naught, of course. He ran off with his common little actress and I married his brother."

Prudence was thunderstruck. "You were engaged to Angelstone's father?"

Drucilla's mouth pursed angrily. "We were never engaged. Matters did not get that far. As I said, there was talk of marriage between us, but that was all. Both of our families were convinced it would be an excellent alliance. But, as I said, Jonathan Fleetwood was not con­cerned with what was best for the families. He believed himself in love with his little actress. He would have her, and that was that."

"From all accounts he did love her."

"Rubbish." Drucilla gave a soft exclamation of disgust. "A man of his station does not marry for love. Even if he was fond of the girl, there was no necessity to run off with her. He could have done his duty by his family and kept his doxy on the side. No one would have thought twice about it."

"Not even you?"

Drucilla flinched. "That is certainly none of your business, is it?"

"Perhaps not," Prudence said. She was beginning to see the Fleet­wood family feud in a whole new light. "Nevertheless, I cannot allow you to insult my husband's side of the family simply because his father chose to marry his mother."

"She was an actress," Drucilla said in anguished fury. "He could have married me, but he chose someone who was no better than a professional courtesan. It was intolerable. He probably did it just to spite his family."

"You go too far, Mrs. Fleetwood. If you cannot keep a civil tongue in your head, I will have to ask you to leave."

Before Drucilla could respond, the library door slammed open.

Prudence nearly dropped her teacup. She spun around in her chair and stared as Sebastian, looking very much like Lucifer after the Fall, stormed into the room with an air of barely controlled violence.

"What the devil is going on here?" he asked in a deadly soft tone.

Prudence leaped to her feet and summoned up a smile. "Your aunt has very kindly come to visit."

Sebastian gave Prudence a frozen glance. "Has she, indeed? How fortunate I arrived home early." He inclined his head to Drucilla. "Good afternoon, madam. You should have sent word around that you intended to call." His smile was as cold as his eyes. "I very nearly missed seeing you."

"I wished to speak with your wife, Angelstone," Drucilla said. "I did not particularly desire to see you."

"I am devastated." Sebastian stalked over to a table that held the crystal decanter of claret. "Did you think it might be easier to intimi­date Prue without me around?"

Prudence raised her eyes to the ceiling and prayed for patience. "Angelstone, there is no need to be rude. Mrs. Fleetwood is very concerned about Jeremy's predicament."

"So he went straight to his mama, did he? I wondered if he would." Sebastian sipped his claret and smiled his Fallen Angel smile. "I am deeply affected by this evidence of maternal concern. What's the matter, Aunt? Afraid that if Jeremy is arrested for murder you will no longer be welcome in the best drawing rooms?"

"Angelstone," Prudence began in a warning tone. She was cut off by Drucilla, who was watching Sebastian as if he were a demon from the Pit that had been set loose in the library.

"Do not think to amuse yourself by playing your devil's games with my son," Drucilla said. "I vow I do not know what you hope to accom­plish by frightening Jeremy into thinking he will be arrested at any moment, but I insist you stop it at once."

Sebastian swirled the claret in his glass. "What makes you think I'm playing a game?"

Drucilla glowered at him. "Surely even you would not let an inno­cent man hang for murder."

Sebastian looked thoughtful. "I'm not certain about that. He is a Fleetwood, after all."

"Good God, sir," Drucilla whispered. "Have you no shame?"

Prudence tried to regain control of the situation. "Mrs. Fleetwood, I assure you Sebastian is not trying to terrify Jeremy. Nor does he intend to allow Jeremy to be arrested." She frowned severely at Sebas­tian. "Do you, my lord?"

Sebastian took a sip of claret and pondered that carefully. "Well…"

Prudence smiled reassuringly at Mrs. Fleetwood. "Do not concern yourself, madam. He will take care of Jeremy."

"You expect me to take your word for it?" Drucilla snapped.

Sebastian gave Prudence a dangerously amused look. "Mrs. Fleet-wood is quite right to be skeptical, my dear. Why should I go out of my way to help a Fleetwood?"

"Stop it, Angelstone," Prudence said. "Stop it right now. You are not to torment your aunt like this. She is deeply concerned."

"And with good reason," Sebastian said.

Mrs. Fleetwood's nostrils were pinched with the strain of her rage. "I knew there was very little point trying to deal with you, Angelstone. That is why I made an effort to speak to Lady Angelstone in private."

"An effort which has failed." Sebastian sauntered across the room, sat down behind his desk, and propped his booted feet on the mahog­any surface. "Tell me, Aunt, what did you expect to accomplish by pleading your case to my wife?"

"I did not come here today to plead with anyone. I came here to insist that your cat-and-mouse game be stopped immediately. I thought it just barely possible that Lady Angelstone might have some small influence on you."

"Really?" Sebastian's brows rose. "Whatever gave you the notion that she would take your side in all this? She is my wife, after all. Her loyalty lies with me."

"Angelstone, behave yourself." Prudence looked at Drucilla. "Rest assured, madam, that Angelstone is not plotting against your family. The evidence that he kept out of the hands of the authorities is quite damning, however. I must tell you that it is necessary to find out why it was left at the scene of the deaths."

"I have heard that Ringcross was killed in an accidental fall and that Oxenham was the victim of suicide," Drucilla said. "There is no talk of murder. Except by Angelstone."

"There has been no talk of murder because the evidence implicat­ing Jeremy was concealed by Angelstone," Prudence said. "He took a great risk for the sake of the family, madam."

Sebastian smiled his most wicked smile and sipped his claret. "My devotion to my family knows no bounds."

Drucilla slanted him a narrow glance. "Bah. I do not believe there ever was any evidence implicating Jeremy at the scene of the deaths. Angelstone has fabricated the entire business."

"No, he did not." Prudence was beginning to get angry again.

"Yes, he did," Drucilla said. "I can see it all quite clearly. He obviously heard that those two unfortunate souls had departed this earth. He then created his own evidence implicating my son, claimed it was found at the scene, and presented it to Jeremy as proof. He intends to hold the so-called evidence over our heads as a threat."

"A very logical conclusion," Sebastian said approvingly. "You sur­prise me, Aunt. I would not have expected such clever reasoning from you. There is just one tiny flaw in it. I did not create the evidence. It was very real and it was indeed found at the scenes of the deaths. And there may be more evidence if there are more of these odd deaths."

"Nonsense. This whole thing is some sort of scheme designed solely to torment your family." Drucilla rose to her feet. "Even I, who know what sort of behavior to expect from your side of the family, cannot bring myself to believe that you would actually present your false evidence to the authorities."

"You think not?" Sebastian smiled. "But it would be so very amus­ing, would it not? Just imagine what the papers would say if a Fleet-wood went on trial for murder. Just imagine what the ton would say."

"Sebastian." Prudence wanted to strangle him.

Drucilla looked at Sebastian. "I do not think you would allow an innocent young man to die simply in order to amuse yourself, sir. Not even you would stoop so low for the sake of revenge."

"What if he is not so innocent?" Sebastian asked softly.

Drucilla started for the door. "Do not be a complete ass, Angel­stone. My son had no reason to kill those two men."

Prudence realized that Sebastian was about to argue. She sent him a warning look as she frantically yanked the bell rope to summon Flowers. "Good day to you, Mrs. Fleetwood. I know this has been an unpleasant experience. I want to assure you once again that Angel­stone will take care of the situation."

"See to it." Drucilla peered at Prudence's gown as Flowers opened the door. "By the way, lavender is utterly atrocious on you, madam. It makes you look quite drab."

Prudence saw Sebastian take his booted feet down off the desk. "Thank you for your opinion, Mrs. Fleetwood," she said hurriedly. "I shall keep it in mind when I shop."

"And you had best get a new modiste." Drucilla swept toward the open door. "That gown you wore to the Hollington ball last night was positively indecent. Not at all suitable to your station. You were hang­ing out of it like a demirep dressed for the opera."

Sebastian was on his feet now. "Goddamn it, my wife can wear what she bloody well wants to wear."

"Angelstone, please," Prudence said, "last night you held the same opinion of my gown, if you will but recall."

"That's different." He strode swiftly across the room, his expres­sion lethal as he bore down on his aunt. "Have you anything else to say about my wife's clothes, madam?"

"I do not know why you have taken offense, Angelstone." Drucilla glanced back from the doorway. "That dress was a disgrace. One could almost see your wife's nipples. It was the sort of gown an actress would wear."

Sebastian's eyes gleamed like hellfire.

Prudence threw herself into his path. "Perhaps you had better take your leave, Mrs. Fleetwood," she called over her shoulder.

"I certainly have no reason to stay here." Drucilla went past Flow­ers and out into the hall. She seemed oblivious of the danger.

Flowers took one look at his master's face and discreetly pulled the door closed with a quick jerk.

"That damned bitch." Sebastian shook off Prudence's clinging hands. "I'll see her and her whole brood in hell. Jeremy can swing, for all I care. They can all swing."

"Sebastian, no, wait, you don't mean that. Stop." Prudence dashed ahead of him and flung herself in front of the door. She stood with her back to it, arms stretched out to form a barricade.

"Get out of my way, Prue."

"Listen to me. The reason she resents you so much is because she was in love with your father."

"Have you lost your wits? She hated my father."

"Because he married another. Don't you understand? She was in love with him and he ran off with another woman. Then you come along and claim the title. No wonder she has never forgiven him. Or you."