Page 55

The Oriental Club, London

B y the time Leo awoke his right arm and leg were asleep.

He was still in the same room however, which was something he supposed.

His captors were murmuring in the corner, and he closed his eyes, feigning sleep to hear what they were saying while he took stock of his body.

He was on his side, his hands mercifully shackled in front of him.

That gave him one important piece of information.

They were amateurs. If he moved fast and kept his wits he may have a chance to get out of here.

“He was meant to be back hours ago.”

They were talking about Harrison.

“Let’s give him some more time.”

“I don’t like this. Maybe he’s already sorted out the old bat and scarpered. Kingston’s an uppity black but he is a Baron. The crown confirmed it.”

So he was going after Aunt Theo. Was Regina still with her? There was no way of knowing. She’d left home before Leo had. Would she have gone home immediately after or lingered? She did enjoy the old woman’s company. Oh God. Was she safe? Was he going to lose both of them?

“This ain’t no different than the other times we helped Eddie out.”

So he was correct. Harrison was behind those murders and those men knew it. But they were losing their nerve. That was good. As long as he could keep them alive he would have the means to call on all the forces of Scotland Yard, instead of just Collins.

“The hell it isn’t. Eddie sorted out those without us, all we had to do was lie about where he was on the yacht and get rid of that phaeton the other time.”

“You think we should kill him?”

“I’m not bloody killing anyone. If you want to hang with Harrison you can be my guest.”

“We could just leave him and go. If Eddie’s not coming back we don’t have to hold him here. Someone else will come for him.”

As if they would get away with any of this. He wouldn’t stop until they were driven out of England.

The door crashed open, and Leo jerked up his eyes flying wide open.

Bielson stood in the doorway with a thunderous expression on his face.

He caught sight of Leo on the ground just as only one of the two men holding him decided to try his luck.

Bielson was known for his ruthless efficiency of movement.

It took one hit each to level the playing field.

“Starkley,” he said before bending over to handcuff them both.

“Get me up.” Leo said. Once the men were secure Bielson took him by the arm and pulled him up to his feet.

“Harrison left a few hours ago, I don’t know where he went.”

“I do. They mentioned my aunt. I think he means to harm her.” And he needed to go to her at once.

“I’ll take these to the yard. They’ll confess easily I’m sure of it. If Harrison is free he won’t be for long.”

It was good news, but Leo couldn’t care overly much about it.

All he could see was Regina dead. His life with her cut horrifically short because he’d underestimated the impatience of his opponent.

He felt ill at the idea. All that fire and drive silenced and extinguished so soon. It was impossible, it had to be.

He got to Harley House in record time, jumping up onto the cab of his carriage and driving the horses himself, much to his driver’s chagrin. He didn’t care.

The door to Harley house was wide open when he arrived. Leo didn’t know what to make of it. Was it open because of Harrison? Was he still in there? Then he saw two constables walk out holding a stretcher with a body covered with a sheet. His throat went dry. Oh God, Regina.

He ran up the stairs and into the house.

The first thing he smelt was the metallic tinge of blood.

Was it the one person dead or had there been more casualties?

His knees nearly buckled, and his gut roiled but he kept moving.

He needed to know if she was alive or not.

The further into the house he got the clearer the voices came.

Aunt Theo and Cousin Bertie were arguing with someone.

“Is this entirely necessary?” Bertie said. “We already told you what happened,”

“We have to follow procedure, regardless of who it is.” Was that Locke?

Two more steps and he was there. His aunt was in a chair, hunched over as if the weight of her bones was too much for her.

Albert was near her with a split lip, and a black eye which did nothing to deter from the vexation on his face.

The reason for his anxiety was standing in the corner in a dark green silk dress.

Beautiful and fully alive. Thank Christ.

The relief nearly took him to his knees.

Then he noticed her slumped posture, the way Regina rocked back and forth on her heels.

Her eyes were downcast and glazed over. Shock .

He’d seen that look a thousand times before.

Then he saw the manacles clapped on her slender, dark wrists.

Cuffs. Locke dared to put his wife in handcuffs?

An entirely different emotion swept through him. White hot rage.

“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.

“Just following procedure my lord.” A younger constable replied. “This lady shot a bloke so we are taking her in for questioning.”

Regina’s head came up and her eyes met his. She was terrified.

“To the station?” he clarified walking up to them.

“Aye,” Locke replied glibly.

His jaw tightened against a furious tirade. Regina didn’t need him to beat this man into a pulp, no matter how much Locke clearly needed a thrashing. She needed him to handle this, and get those irons off her wrists. “Is there a reason you can’t ask your questions here?”

“As he said, it’s standard procedure, can’t be making exceptions or else it’ll all come down on our heads,” Locke replied, turning towards him with his notebook in his hands.

“Since when is it standard procedure to drag a woman down to the station for questioning Locke?” he asked, knowing the answer. Never.

“She’s a murderer,” Locke replied as if it was all the reason he needed.

Leo glanced at Regina as she flinched at Locke’s words. Who exactly had she killed?

“That is not true,” Albert interrupted.

“She shot him point blank in the middle of his head,” Locke continued to Leo.

“She had always been a good shot. Her father taught her,” he replied.

“I’m sure her father did teach her, but here in England—”

“Her father is Captain Mason of the 39 th foot,” Leo interrupted, sick and tired of that ridiculous phrase. As if England was any less barbaric than anywhere else.

“You what?” Locke blinked in shock.

“That’s right. He is a decorated veteran of Her Majesty’s Armed forces. As white as you are. Not that it should matter.” Leo walked over to Regina who was staring at her feet. “Rajani, look at me.”

She lifted her head, with gentle encouragement from his hands.

“Tell me what happened,” he said, stroking her damp cheeks.

“He… he came here, he was armed.” Her voice was so soft and unsure. It was breaking his heart. “He said he was going to kill us. I tried to reason with him but he wouldn’t listen. He had Albert, he was going to kill him so I shot him.”

“With your gun?” Leo asked.

She shook her head “No, his. I brought mine but I couldn’t get to it. He was watching and I couldn’t get to it.”

He nodded and turned to Locke. “Does this account differ in any way from that was relayed to you earlier, Locke?”

“No,” he replied, unapologetically.

So it was a power play. Leo’s tenuous grasp on his temper slipped. “Then I reiterate, what the fuck are you playing at putting her in irons to march her down to the station when she hasn’t even committed a crime.”

“She killed the man didn’t she?”

“She defended herself and the occupants of this house against a mad man that I warned you about previously. A madman that you helped escape no less than two nights ago. Although I can’t really pretend to be shocked.

Once again you couldn’t be arsed to do your job so someone else had to manage it for you. ”

“Listen here Kingston—”

“No you listen. I came to you ready to deal with you as an equal, as a former comrade in arms and you turned your back, so you will suffer me as I am now.” He was tired of making do.

Tired of crawling to avoid being hit. He’d played nicely and where had it gotten him?

Kidnapped and his wife with irons on her wrists.

No more. He wasn’t playing the humble layman anymore.

“Leo,” Regina’s voice came but he shook his head. He was done with this. Done. What the hell was the use of the title if he couldn’t use it to protect her?

“I am the Baron Starkley, the woman you have in irons is the Baroness Starkley. You have already heard an account corroborated by no less than three people of what transpired in this room and how her bravery and skill saved at least two lives including her own. There is no policy that requires you to take a peer of the realm, and a woman at that, to the station for questioning especially when she is cooperating. Get those fucking irons off of her or I swear to God I will use every ounce of my power to have you not only driven from the police force but England for the rest of your miserable life.”

He glanced at the young officer in the corner with a ring of keys in his hand. “Get these off her,”

“Don’t move boy,” Locke hissed.

Leo turned to the boy, “Get these off her or I come after you next. Australia is lovely this time of year.”

That got it done. The officer didn’t dare look at his superior, but shuffled over to Regina with shaking hands to do his bidding.

There was a vicious satisfaction in seeing an order of his obeyed.

Seeing how much terror he could strike in the heart of a man just because he was a peer of the realm. His threats held far more weight now.

He turned his attention to Locke who was watching his man break ranks with rancor. Leo couldn’t help the urge to twist the knife.