Page 31 of A Lady’s Guide to Murder
CHAPTER 30
The Nightshade
Eliza King had locked Henrietta inside Enberry Abbey and Theo must save her without revealing his presence. With that purpose in mind, he dashed past the row of French windows and around to the north side of the mansion, frantically testing for unlocked windows or doors. When his search proved unsuccessful, he removed his coat, wrapped it around his fist and readied his arm to strike out the pane of a French door that led from the house to a garden of ornamental trees and flowering bushes.
A woman spoke from behind his shoulder. ‘’Tis best to enter silently.’
Startled, Theo turned to face the speaker, but for once his eyesight failed him. No human form was discernible amongst the thick cluster of lilac trees from which the voice had emanated.
Until she glided forward.
Slim, cloaked and hooded, her features in shadow, she approached soundlessly and stopped a yard away. A slight tilt of her head, and then, ‘Why are you here, Mr Hawke?’ Her voice was measured and intelligent, her accent working-class. Yet her recognition of Theo meant she was no servant or local villager. If she was Eliza King, as Theo suspected, then who had locked Henrietta in the house ?
He forced himself to speak calmly. ‘I am here to catch the Duke of Severn’s killer. If your purpose is the same, we are not adversaries.’
She chuckled, light as rustling leaves. ‘I’m not here to catch him. I am here to kill him. If you attempt to impede me, we are indeed adversaries.’
‘I’ll gladly help you apprehend him, but I urge you to let the law judge and sentence him.’
‘The law is more renegade than I, Mr Hawke,’ she replied coldly. ‘The law is vacillating and biased. I am neither.’
‘But the lady I love is inside this house, in great danger, and if you kill Marlow without first garnering irrefutable proof of her innocence, she will be condemned.’
‘Do you love Henrietta Percy?’ Surprise tinged her tone. ‘Perhaps there is an interesting story there – how a gossip journalist came to love a duchess. If I cared a fig for matters of the heart, I might wish to hear. But I don’t believe in romantic love. Not when men are so often cruel liars.’
‘I am no liar,’ Theo said. ‘I seek the truth, in all its nuances.’
She lifted her shoulders lightly. ‘While I am indifferent to Her Grace’s survival, Marlow won’t be. If he finds her first, she’ll join the other women who have entered these grounds on their own two feet, only to exit by way of the Enberry.’ She pointed to the river, a shining silver ribbon flowing past the terraced gardens.
Theo’s skin crawled. ‘Is he so evil as that? The killing of women?’
‘Whores, barmaids, scullery wenches – and now, an unfaithful, troublesome duchess. What matter such lives to a lord? Nay, what matter lives like that to the law ? And lords and law are often one and the same. Marlow is the local magistrate, but even were he not, what magistrate bothers to investigate one more sinful female who evidently took her own life? My own sister lies buried at the crossroads, not in the churchyard, which is why I learnt long ago to take the law into my own hands. Until the law sees all men as equal, and all women as equal to men, there can be no true justice.’
‘Are you Eliza King herself, or her supporter?’ Theo asked.
The woman pulled back her hood, revealing a pale face framed by brown hair pulled into a severe chignon. Her large eyes were an indeterminable pale colour – at odds with the description of a black-eyed beauty. ‘Elizabeth, Eliza, Betsy and Bess. Are you familiar with that children’s rhyme, Mr Hawke?’
‘I’ve heard it,’ he replied.
‘My followers sometimes call me the mistress of disguise. My very name lends itself to disguise and I enjoy the challenge of concealing even my most unique feature, so that no one will recognise me unless I choose. Before the sun rises, I shall be Eliza King again. But now, I am the Nightshade, because nightshade brings death. Do you dare enter with death, Mr Hawke?’
Theo kept his voice steady. ‘I’ll do anything to save Henrietta.’
Her slow smile sent chills down his spine. ‘Come then, Mr Hawke. We shall see if your duchess yet lives.’
She withdrew a long, thin instrument. As she worked it into the glass door’s keyhole, Theo’s mind raced.
‘Since you are Eliza King,’ he said, ‘who is the woman inside? Your assistant?’
‘Someone else in grave danger, though she may be unaware.’ The lock clicked. She turned the knob, then paused. ‘Are you armed?’
‘No, but I am strong,’ he replied, determined to find his half-brother, prove the villain’s guilt and save all three women in danger. Thank God Henrietta had her pistol. Since he’d heard no shot, she must not have had cause to use it. That or she was incapacitated. ‘Are you armed?’ he asked, pushing into the house, eager to reach his love.
‘Twice over.’ A wicked dagger glinted in the dim light as Eliza withdrew it from the recesses of her cloak. She also lifted a vial dangling from a chain about her neck.
‘Poison?’ he asked, confused. Why was Eliza King showing him the murder weapon Marlow had used against Severn? Did her style of justice involve killing a murderer by the same means with which he had killed?
She opened the vial, sipped, and then grinned, her lips slick with clear fluid. ‘Depends upon who’s drinking it.’ Suddenly, she grabbed Theo’s head and pressed her lips to his mouth.
Theo pushed her away, sputtering.
Chuckling lightly, she capped her vial. ‘Such a small amount won’t kill you.’
‘I object to the assault.’ He scowled, wiping his wet lips. She’d left a sticky residue and the putridly sweet taste lingered, like overripe berries spiked with cheap gin.
She watched him intently. ‘You’ll face worse assaults, soon. Be more alert.’
That’s when Theo noticed her eyes were no longer pale.
They were as black as a moonless night.
‘I’m not Eliza King. What a stupid thing to think.’ Miss du Pont had managed to yank Henrietta to the floor with the rope and now straddled her middle as she secured her arms to her side. The opera dancer was lean but strong , and Henrietta found herself powerless to resist. ‘I am the mistress of Lord Marlow, who took me into his keeping shortly after Perceval the worm left me for his bluestocking. He helped me plan Perceval’s destruction.’ She smirked at Henrietta. ‘I knew you hadn’t any notion of my new lover. You don’t know anything, do you? And that is why you find yourself in a very bad situation, is it not, Madame Duchess?’
Marlow stood nearby, looking down at them both. He’d found Henrietta’s pistol and was stroking the barrel with one pale finger. ‘Secure her arms to her torso, Désirée, but tie her legs spread between two of those pedestals. I shall have my way with her later, after I’ve taken care of my business. And then , Duchess, you will take a long swim. Should your corpse happen to wash ashore before it’s completely consumed by the fish, everyone will think you drowned yourself rather than face the gallows.’
Henrietta’s defiance surged despite the chill in her veins. ‘I’m an excellent swimmer. My family will never believe I drowned.’
Marlow tapped the pistol against his palm. ‘Such valuable information, my dear. How convenient when the victim assists in planning her own murder. You’ll shoot yourself instead, with this pretty pistol engraved with your arms. We’ll take a little journey first – later, after I’ve dealt with my business – so your body isn’t found near here.’
‘I’ll fight you every step of the way, Marlow.’
His smile mocked her. ‘Like you’re fighting now?’
Fury coursed through Henrietta, but he was correct. She lay wriggling as helplessly as a fish out of water.
But she didn’t resign herself to death yet . Yes, her chance of escape had become frighteningly slim, but Theo hadn’t been captured. And Eliza King might yet have a part to play, if there was indeed a second black-eyed woman on the Enberry grounds, as the Millford men claimed.
And on top of that, Henrietta herself was no sapskull. If she managed to win Miss du Pont to her side, she stood a chance of overpowering Marlow. She bent her mind to this purpose … what could she say? What could she promise? The opera dancer hated men, did she not? And if Henrietta could just prove her innocence and gain her freedom, she would once again be one of the wealthiest people in the kingdom. Perhaps Henrietta could provide for Miss du Pont, so that the opera dancer need never take a lover again, unless she wished to do so …
Just then the mirrored door opened and Theo stepped into the ballroom.
Almost before Henrietta could register his presence, Marlow raised his arm and metal glinted in the moonlight.
Henrietta shrieked a warning. ‘Flee, Theo! He has my—’
Marlow pulled the trigger.
Henrietta opened her mouth to scream …
But no explosion of gunpowder sounded. The hammer clicked against the ball. Then silence. A wave of overpowering relief swept over her and a sob of gratitude tore from her mouth. The cap must’ve fallen off when the weapon had crashed to the parquet floor earlier.
Cursing, Marlow threw the pistol across the room. It hit a bust and fell into the shadows. ‘No matter.’ He shrugged. ‘It was the impulse of the moment and would have been an untidy way to dispose of you, although I do like the thought of Henrietta scrubbing your blood off my floors.’ He laughed. ‘Good evening, brother .’
Theo glided sideways from the doorway, lingering in the shadows of the mirrored wall. The room was growing darker, the moon likely close to setting, but a couple of hours must remain until the first light of dawn.
‘You are no brother to me, Marlow.’ Clever Theo was by now completely hidden in shadow, whereas Marlow stood in the brighter section of the ballroom. ‘Now, release the duchess and I might let you live.’
‘You fancy yourself her saviour, don’t you, Hawke?’ Marlow said. ‘Do you love her, in fact? Hilarious to think this is where my prank five years ago would end.’
Henrietta frowned, uncertain of Marlow’s meaning.
‘What prank?’ Theo’s voice asked from the darkness.
Marlow paced languidly back towards Henrietta. ‘Don’t say I never did anything good for you, brother. I saw you lurking in the garden at that soirée, scouting for salacious stories. Meanwhile, the duchess was fluttering about me, such a foolish, inept flirt, willing to prostitute herself to please her husband. I knew Edmund would have told her to be discreet. I knew she was as green a virgin as ever there was.’ He spoke to Theo but looked directly at Henrietta, a glint in his eye. ‘And I could never resist an opportunity to hurt Edmund – he’s my half-brother, as well, like you, as I’ve explained to Henrietta – and so I took her to the niche where you lurked, and gave you a show, simply because it amused me for the kingdom to think I’d cuckolded—’
‘Release her now .’ Theo’s voice was laced with hate. ‘Or I’ll—’
‘You’ll what?’ Marlow’s boot hovered above Henrietta’s throat, the stitches on his leather sole clear even in the dim light. ‘Just give me reason, Hawke, and I shall crush her neck.’
There was no reply from Theo.
Marlow laughed, but thankfully moved his foot, brushing it along Henrietta’s jaw as he withdrew.
Miss du Pont’s absence suddenly struck Henrietta. ‘Be careful, Theo. Miss du Pont is lurking in these shadows and she’s an expert with a rope. And you were correct, she’s not Eliza King—’
‘Miss du Pont is keeping me company,’ said a feminine voice. ‘And quite right, she’s not Eliza King.’
Into the dimly lit middle of the room, a shadowy form stepped. No, two shadowy forms: Miss du Pont, with a knife to her throat, held tightly in front of another woman.
‘Libby!’ Henrietta said in astonishment. Although the straight-backed young woman with dark eyes bore only slight resemblance to the mousy, clumsy maid, Henrietta recognised her.
‘Ah,’ Marlow said, with a clap. ‘Our guest of honour arrives at last. The very reason I travelled to Enberry tonight rather than upon the morrow. My dear Miss King, I knew you’d surface here when Désirée relayed the Runners’ information that Libby the clumsy, stupid maid was missing from Newgate. Missing , they said! As if you’d been mislaid by the warden, rather than rescued in a plan meticulously orchestrated by radicals and traitors.’ He spread his arms theatrically. ‘And so all the players are finally present, those I expected and those I did not. Now I wonder, with such an intricate web of lies and deceit before us, how shall we unravel this convoluted tale?’
Puzzle pieces fell into place in Henrietta’s mind. The maid who was so fascinated by Edmund and the fugitive radical leader, known as a mistress of disguise, were one and the same. ‘Libby, if you are Eliza King, why come to me as a maid?’
‘A reconnaissance mission,’ Libby, who was now Eliza, replied calmly, quite as if they were having an afternoon chat. ‘After Cato Street, it was imperative I disappear for a time, but I can never be idle in my mission. A position in your household allowed me access to your husband’s private papers. I was able to study his habits, learn his daily schedule, identify his closest companions, whose counsel he valued and whose he did not … all information I intended to employ—’
‘Oh, do tell the truth, Eliza,’ Marlow interrupted, sounding bored. ‘You intended to fuck him, of course. To make him want you, to go to his bed, to become his mistress. Work him over until you had the reforming People’s Duke in your radical pocket. A clever plan, perhaps – had Severn fucked women .’
‘I employ what means I must to achieve my ends,’ Eliza said, a note of pride in her voice. ‘Exploiting male weakness can sometime prove useful, yet, unlike you, my imagination can extend beyond fucking and murdering. But tonight, there will be murder. The question is, who amongst us will die, and who – if any – will live to tell the tale?’ She dug her knife into Miss du Pont’s skin until a bead of dark liquid dripped down the dancer’s white, swanlike neck. Miss du Pont’s eyes flashed with defiance and her lips pressed into a line.
Marlow rubbed his hands. ‘Do kill her , if you want. You’ll save me taking the trouble myself, for naturally I must dispose of all witnesses after I kill you, Eliza.’
Henrietta recoiled against the cold floor, sick with horror. Marlow was as mad as he was evil … he seemed positively gleeful at the prospect of watching his mistress die.
Eliza didn’t bat an eyelid, however. ‘Exactly what I would have expected of you, my lord.’ She smiled at her captive. ‘But you, Miss du Pont? Did you realise your lover holds your life so cheap? If not, how does the knowledge that he intends to kill you make you feel?’
Miss du Pont’s silence spoke volumes. Marlow had turned his only ally present against him. Foolish, foolish man.
This shift would work to their advantage. If only Henrietta’s ropes would give way, she’d help Eliza take control and organise Miss du Pont and Theo. Together, they could subdue Marlow and extract a confession, witnessed by all. Surely even a jury of Marlow’s peers couldn’t dismiss the testimony of four people, when one was a duchess and another the most popular radical leader in Britain.
Feeling renewed hope, she flexed and stretched her legs, testing the ropes for weakness, but her efforts only succeeded in drawing Marlow’s attention.
He nudged her jaw with his boot. ‘Do you imagine Eliza is going to help you, Henrietta?’ he asked, as if he read her thoughts. ‘Do you think she will assist you in turning me over to the law? Well, she won’t. Because she can’t . Because she’s not your ally. She is the true murderer of Severn and she carries the murder weapon in that vial about her neck.’
‘The duchess isn’t a fool,’ Eliza said. ‘She knows I’d never kill the nobleman most likely to one day champion my cause. No, I’d kill the person who stood in Severn’s way, if the chance were to present itself. I poisoned your wine, Lord Marlow.’
Henrietta gasped. It was as she’d always known. No one would have wanted to murder someone as gentle and kind as Edmund. No one except …
‘You knew.’ She looked at Marlow. Tears stung her eyes and her throat clogged. ‘That day in the library, you stared at Libby so intently … I thought it lechery, but, no … you recognised her … you knew her to be the radical leader so lauded in the village beside your manor … you knew your wine to be poisoned … you did kill Edmund.’
‘Not in the least,’ Marlow said. ‘I merely handed the glass your maid gave me to Edmund out of courtesy, so he might drink first.’
Eliza shook her head. ‘How I cursed my stupidity later for not watching you closely. You knew the wine I gave you was poisoned, and you knowingly handed it to Severn. You killed him.’
‘I didn’t know the wine was poisoned, I merely suspected it when I recognised you as a child of bloody Jim King, the man I’d long suspected to be the father of Eliza King. As far as I could tell, the whole pack of you King mongrels had differently coloured eyes …’
‘Certainly, my elder sister, Nelly, did. You took her to your bed when she was but fifteen, and shortly after you got her with child, her body was found in the Enberry, swollen and bloated, her skirts tangled in the mill wheel. Frightened the locals, it did. Suicide, they called it. Even respect for my father didn’t stop a pack of superstitious fools from fishing out her body and burying it at the crossroads, lest her condemned soul take to wandering.’
‘I had nothing to do with your sister’s suicide, Eliza. I told her to take care she didn’t get with child; unlike my father, I don’t care to populate Britain with my bastards. When she chose to disregard my warning, evidently because she’d imagined I’d marry her if she carried my brat, I told her she could go hang for all I cared. Apparently, she chose to drown herself instead.’
‘Lies, of course,’ Eliza said. ‘I have longed for your death, Marlow. For years, I’ve dreamt of it. So much so that my eagerness made me careless that afternoon, I admit. I never expected such a perfect chance … the duke, calling for his wine … that fool footman so easily distracted … just the right amount of nightshade upon me to ensure you wouldn’t die in Severn’s home, but later, when none would suspect a member of the duke’s household … a mere moment to decide if I should strike, all while knowing I couldn’t let the opportunity pass, though I had too little time to disguise myself properly … Damn that I failed then, but I shall succeed in bringing about justice for Severn and for Nelly tonight, and all will be well …’
Henrietta grew increasingly horrified as Eliza spoke. ‘All will be well?’ she asked, unable to believe her own ears. ‘ You brought the poison that killed my husband into the library! How can you think another death will make all well? Nothing can bring back what was lost and you had a hand in that terrible end.’
Eliza raised her shoulders. ‘Innocents die on the path to justice.’
‘Callous, unfeeling woman!’ Henrietta strained her neck to see the radical more clearly. ‘You killed a great man in the prime of his life and you show no remorse.’
For the first time since her capture, Miss du Pont spoke. ‘Ah, and so now you begin to understand, Madame Na?veté . Just as your class is callous about the lives of the likes of us, so too can we be about your lives. That is what the French aristocracy learnt, nearly thirty years ago. But while my grandparents’ necks were sliced, I shall not die in such a way.’
She was a dancer and a skilled one at that – Henrietta’s eyes widened in amazement, for Désirée executed the most exquisite pirouette within Eliza King’s arms. More fluid than the ocean, she performed a plié , slipping out of the radical leader’s grasp and grabbing the knife. Jetés and chassés brought her across the ballroom floor towards Marlow.
But there her luck ended.
Marlow swiped a bust from the wall of pedestals, pulled back his arm, and, just as Désirée extended hers with the cruel blade glistening, he smashed the marble head into her elbow.
There was a sickly crack, the breaking of bones. Désirée didn’t scream; the sound she made as she crumpled to the floor was low, guttural and far more anguished. Her skirts billowed about her and the knife clanged against the parquet.
Theo emerged as Marlow reached for the knife. He rushed towards Henrietta, seeking to put himself between her and Marlow’s blade.
But Henrietta wasn’t the woman Marlow attacked. His sights were set on Eliza.
Eliza was as unmoving as a statue, almost as if she were waiting. Theo altered course to intervene, but Marlow was upon Eliza too quickly. Once, the knife struck. Deep into the woman’s chest. Out it came, its blade no longer glistening but covered in a dark substance. Down it struck again and this time Eliza fell. Soundlessly, until she hit the floor. Then there was a whoosh, like wind through trees.
Theo was upon Marlow and this fight was an equal match. Two men, no weapons. Fists to the jaw, the nose, the face. Kicks to the stomach, the legs, the groin. Grunts and raw violence. No quarter given by either.
And Henrietta strained against her ropes, gritting her teeth to employ every ounce of strength she possessed. All to no avail, for she was as trussed as a Christmas goose. She cried out in desperation, but cries didn’t release restraints. She was the last woman remaining who had the physical strength to assist in the fight, but she needed help.
‘Désirée.’ She called out to the crumpled form nearest her. ‘Eliza,’ she said to the other woman, who was more towards the centre of the ballroom. Neither moved, but someone made a sound. ‘The knife,’ she said. ‘Where is the knife? Cut my bonds and let me fight for us. We are no longer adversaries, but allies against a monster. For the sake of Nelly, for the sake of Severn, for the sake of all Marlow’s innocent victims, for your own sake, cut my bonds .’
Because if one of them didn’t, all hope was lost …