Brotherhood 02 - Broken Promise

London, 1858

Sweat poured down Austin’s face as he raced down the footpath that angled through London’s St. James Park. Nearly a year had passed since his brother-in-law, Gabriel Talbot, had rescued him from that hellhole of a prison in France, but the nightmares still haunted him. And they didn’t come any less often. When the terrors woke him, running was his only escape. And sometimes, even that wasn’t enough.

There were times he wasn’t sure he could live with what had happened that day. Times when his own death would be a relief. At least he wouldn’t have to live with young Dunstan’s face haunting his dreams.

His fingers skimmed over the pistol in his jacket pocket and he envisioned gripping it in his hand, pointing it to his temple, pulling the trigger.

He made an inhuman sound that echoed in the predawn silence and he ran faster.

He sped across the paved paths until the ache in his side wouldn’t let him run any longer, then bent at the waist and braced his hands on his thighs. When he looked up, the sky had turned a softer shade of darkness.

It would be sunrise soon.

He welcomed the light, especially the faint pinks and lavenders that heralded a new day. Each sunrise meant he’d survived another twenty-four hours.

He straightened, then started running again. He took the path closest to the lake, then headed toward the west exit. He had an office a short distance from the Metropolitan Police Department, with a room where he could wash and change clothes before his secretary, Giles, arrived.

His latest case was nearly complete. All that remained was submitting his report to the inspector. Maybe, when he finished, he’d go to the country for a week or two to visit his sister Lydia. Gabe had insisted they take little Rachel to Southerby Manor because he didn’t think the summer air in London was fit for a three-month-old baby.

It would be good to get away for a while. The last four cases he’d investigated for the Metropolitan Police had been unusually gruesome. His training as a special agent during the Crimean War gave him the experience he needed to piece together the clues, but there were times he felt suffocated by the endless hours he spent wallowing among the dregs of humanity. Times when, to keep his sanity, he had to escape the filth of London’s lowlifes and murderers, and mingle with people who were wholesome and good. He needed that desperately right now. Needed to spend time with his family and for a while, pretend that he belonged among people who were decent. That was the life he’d always thought he’d have.

Until the French had captured him.

Until…

Young Dunstan’s face flashed in front of him and he continued to run down St. Martin’s Lane to Long Acre, then to his office at 16 Charles Street. He turned the key in the lock and stepped inside. He slammed the door behind him, pretending the thick wood could protect him from the demons.

When he was alone in the silence, he pressed his back against the closed door and took in several deep breaths. He was safe now. Dunstan’s failed look of bravery was locked on the other side of the door where the terror in his expression would fade in the sunlight.

For a few more seconds, Austin remained where he was, then he pushed away from the door and walked to the small back room.

A single cot rested in one corner for when his work wouldn’t allow him to go home. A comfortably padded chair nestled nearby. Several sets of clean clothes hung in a narrow armoire against the wall in the far corner. He had everything he needed for the long nights when he couldn’t sleep.

He felt safe here. This place, this room was his refuge. It was the one place where he felt he belonged, where he could immerse himself in his dealings with the lowlifes of London and forget that he would never fit in with anyone who was
good
.

He poured water in a basin and washed. When he finished, he donned fresh clothing, then put on his jacket. He was fastening the last button when there was a knock on the outer door and it opened.

Austin walked to his office and let his gaze evaluate the tall, imposing man standing in the doorway.

“Captain Landwell?”

Recognition wasn’t immediate, but when Austin realized who had come to see him, his heart lurched in his chest. A year of guilt surged to the forefront. “Lord Penderly.” Austin pointed to the wooden chair in front of his desk. “Please, come in. Sit down.”

The Earl of Penderly closed the door behind him and walked across the room. He carried himself with an air of authority that Austin recognized. He’d seen it often in members of the nobility. Saw it in the way his brother, Harrison, Earl of Etherington, carried himself.

Penderly stopped before Austin’s desk and faced him. “I wasn’t sure if I’d find you here at this hour.”

“In my line of work it’s impossible to keep regular hours.” He waited until Penderly sat, then took the chair behind his desk. “It also allows certain…visitors…to pay calls without being noticed.”

“Of course.”

Austin took in the earl’s expert tailoring—his black pants and jacket, his pristine white shirt, and not one, but two black arm bands around his upper arm. One for the death of the young officer for which Austin was responsible, and one for the death of Penderly’s oldest son, who had recently died in a riding accident. The sign of mourning on Penderly’s jacket caused Austin to look closer into the earl’s face.

Penderly’s attire was impeccable, his silver hair neatly groomed. His features indicated the handsome man he’d been in his youth—still was. Only the shadowed look in his eyes gave evidence of the tragedy life had placed in his path. Tragedy for which Austin was largely to blame.

“Allow me to offer my condolences on the death of your son, my lord.”

Penderly nodded. “I’ve lost them both, now.”

Austin couldn’t do more than nod.

“I know you knew my younger son. I appreciate the kindnesses you extended when you returned from France. My wife and I were consoled by your visit and the knowledge that Jarrod didn’t die alone. We were greatly comforted to know you were with him.”

Austin’s blood turned to ice and he clamped his hands around the arms of the chair to keep them from trembling.

“I’m not sure, though, if you knew my elder son and heir, Gregory?”

“Yes, I did. He was a few years my senior, but I’d met him several times about town. He was the same age as my brother, Harrison, Earl of Etherington.”

“Yes, I’d forgotten.”

Penderly’s expression took on a pained look. “I loved him. Unfortunately, he died thinking I did not.”

The earl rose and turned away from Austin. The man obviously needed to compose himself first. After several moments, he turned back.

“I don’t know if you are aware of what went on between the two of us that caused our separation.”

Austin had heard the rumors, but he’d learned early on in his detective career to let his clients put events in their own words. He waited for the earl to continue.

“Gregory would have inherited the title. He’d been raised to follow in my footsteps. I didn’t question his abilities—ever. I was very proud of him. Then…”

The earl’s shoulders slumped as if he carried the weight of the world. As well as the guilt of his firstborn son’s death.

“He fell in love.” He lifted his gaze and looked at Austin. “Did you ever meet her?”

Austin knew who he meant. He was referring to the actress with whom Penderly’s son had fallen in love and eloped. “No, I never did.”

“Her name was Collette Flemming.”

The earl stepped to the multi-paned window in the front of Austin’s office and looked out. There was nothing there except a narrow street and an occasional hack that traveled by.

He turned. “I reacted badly. But after I lost Jarrod, Gregory was all I had left. He was the future of the Penderly line. I couldn’t think past the disgrace that bringing an actress into our family would cause. He would never have been accepted by Society, his wife would never have been accepted. They would have been ostracized, shunned. It was…too much for me to accept.”

Penderly stiffened. “I said some cruel things to Gregory. But I couldn’t think past the disgrace
I
would suffer if my son married an actress.”

Penderly’s body seemed to collapse in on him.
He returned to his chair and sat. He suddenly seemed years older than he had when he’d entered a few moments earlier.

“The day we argued was the last time I saw my son alive. He eloped the following day. He died a few short months later.”

“Is that why you’ve come to see me? Do you suspect foul play in the death of your son?”

Penderly lifted his head. “No. Nothing like that. I sent my nephew, who is also my man of business, to gather the details of the accident. The local magistrate verified that Gregory died when his horse stepped into a hole and fell. There were witnesses.”

“Then what assistance do you need from me?” Austin realized at that moment that he would do anything Penderly needed. He owed him for the son he’d stolen from him in a French prison.

Penderly’s regal bearing came to the forefront and he faced Austin with firm determination. “I want you to find the woman my son gave up his inheritance to be with.”

Austin evaluated Penderly’s request. The man wanted him to find the woman who’d ruined his son’s life. The woman who’d stolen his son from him.

A hint of warning raced through him. “Would you mind telling me why?”

Penderly’s eyes opened wide. He knew what Austin’s question meant. “Not to do her harm,” he said. “Never that!”

“Then why?

“My reasons are personal.”

Austin leaned forward and leveled Penderly with an expression Gabe once told him could shrivel armor. “I want to know why you mean to find her. And I expect the truth.”

Penderly breathed a heavy sigh of resignation. “Of course you do. I wouldn’t expect a man my son thought so highly of to consider a task without being assured my motives were honorable.”

The earl lifted his shoulders and sat straight. “I want to take care of her the same as my son would have, had he lived. I want to make her a part of our family like Gregory asked me to. I know my actions have come too late to make my son happy, but I want to do what he asked of me —and I refused.”

Austin studied the earl for several long seconds. He’d always relied on his instincts to tell him when someone was lying to him. Penderly’s hooded expression gave him a moment’s pause.

“You’re deciding whether or not to believe me,” Penderly said. He leaned back against his chair. “Allow me to tell you about the first time I met my son’s mistress. I knew Gregory would be with her, so I went to her house fully intending to expose her for the Jezebel I believed her to be. I’d passed the point of anger and bordered on madness. I hated her. She was ruining my family, destroying Gregory’s future.”

A small smile lifted the corners of Penderly’s mouth. “Instead, I found I liked her. I was not only in awe of her beauty, but I discovered there was something special about her—her strength of character, her intelligence. I understood why Gregory loved her. But more importantly, I realized that she loved my son. It was so blatantly obvious that I reacted with a vehemence that was totally unlike me.”

The earl’s face lost a shade of color. “I was desperate to separate them, you see. When I met her, I realized she was a bigger threat than I’d imagined. I said several things I didn’t mean.” He sighed. “Unfortunately, neither she nor Gregory ever knew that.”

“You don’t think perhaps she was putting on an act?” Austin asked. “She had experience on the stage, you know.”

Penderly shook his head. “When I threatened to disown Gregory, she offered to give him up. She pleaded with me to reconsider, then pleaded with Gregory to leave and forget her.”

“You think she was serious?”

Penderly nodded. “She came to see me later that night. She wanted me to know that I had nothing to fear from her. That she intended to leave London. And Gregory.”

“Are you sure she wasn’t just saying that? She could have been—”

Penderly held up his hand and Austin stopped. “I offered her enough money to live in grand style for the rest of her life if she promised never to reenter Gregory’s life.” He shook his head and looked at Austin. The haunted look in his eyes was a mirror image of the look he’d seen in Lieutenant Dunstan’s eyes just before he died. “She refused to take any money from me. She said she’d be fine on her own, that she didn’t want Gregory’s money. And she didn’t want to ruin his life.”

“And you believed her?”

Penderly shut his eyes as if reliving his conversation with Collette Flemming. “Yes, Captain. I believed her. She kept her word. She left London that night. Left Gregory. Left the theater. Left everything. Just as she said she would.”

Austin leaned forward in his chair. “What happened then?”

“When Gregory realized she was gone, he came to the house. We had a terrible argument. He said he’d never forgive me for what I’d done. Then he left to follow her.” Penderly paused. “That night was the last time I saw my son.”

The earl didn’t speak for several long seconds. When he did, his voice had a quality to which Austin couldn’t quite give a name. There was a softness to it, a painful emptiness.

“Have you ever been in love, Captain?”

Austin hesitated. Finally he said, “No, sir. I haven’t.”

“Do you believe there’s such a thing?”

Austin knew there was. He even believed there was a love so consuming nothing would stop the people who were in love from moving heaven and earth to be together. His sister, Liddy, and his best friend, Gabe, had discovered a love that all-consuming. They’d moved heaven, and gone through hell to have that love.

He could hardly admit that to Penderly. He couldn’t even say the words out loud, because to admit it would mean acknowledging that he knew such a love was beyond his reach. No decent female could ever love him that completely. Not after the things he’d done. “Perhaps there is. I don’t know.”

A smile lifted the corners of Penderly’s mouth. “There is. That’s the kind of love my son and Collette Flemming shared.” He hesitated. “I know it’s not proper to admit such a fact, but that’s the same love my wife and I feel for each other. Which is the reason that I understand what drove my son to do what he did.”