Authors: Hannah Howell
wel -dressed butler let them inside, and the moment the door closed behind them, Julian looked at Leo.
“Is that it?” he asked. “Have I stood here risking the loss of important parts of my body to the cold just to watch Arthur and Beatrice walk into a
house?”
“Inside that house is one of France’s best spies.”
“Oh.” Julian had to admit he was intrigued now. “So how do we prove that my uncle is working with that spy, betraying his own country? Again. We
cannot see or hear anything from here.”
“We wil move closer in a moment, although it probably wil not help us much. Simone would have made sure she was wel guarded against such
an intrusion.”
“Simone? The spy is a woman?”
Leo nodded. “And she is the best spy I have ever come up against, and I have been at this for seven years. I always thought that she was Arthur’s
lover, but then he turned to Beatrice.”
“Mayhap he just added Beatrice.” He grimaced when even in the thick shadows he could see the surprised question in Leo’s quirked brow. “Yes,
she has provided entertainment for more than one man at a time.” He scowled toward the house they watched as dark memories swamped him for a
moment and suddenly realized that they did not sting as sharply as they had before. “Beatrice is what some men claim they want—an adventurous lover
who wil do most anything once.”
“And you decided that adventurous was not what you wanted?”
“Not when it included any man Beatrice thought exceptional y handsome or rich or young or a thousand and one other qualities. Adventurous with
me, yes. Adventurous with any and every male within fifty miles of home, sometimes two at a time, no. There is also a coldness in Beatrice, one that goes
bone deep, despite that sensual greed that can make a man act the fool. At first I made al manner of excuses for it or told myself I was imagining it al .”
“What was it that changed your mind?”
“After we had an argument where I flatly refused to pay another one of her gambling debts, she said she was going out. I watched her cal for her
mount and then shove the stable boy aside when he brought it to her. The boy fel and struck his head upon the steps. Beatrice glanced down at him and
then just shrugged. She mounted her horse and rode off, leaving the boy sprawled on the steps, blood pooling around his head. That was when I stopped
lying to myself, stopped trying to make excuses for her. It was as if I woke up from some feverish dream and found myself locked into a nightmare.”
“And the boy?”
“He was fine. His head hurt for a while and he has a scar just at his hairline, but he is otherwise fine. His father was Melvin,” he added in a whisper.
Leo cursed softly and lightly patted Julian on the back. “We wil find out where he is buried soon and give him a proper burial, one his family can
attend. The best we can do for him now is make sure that his kil ers are punished.”
“Speak quietly,” Simone snapped when Beatrice began to loudly repeat some gossip, brandy making her boisterous and mean. “We are being
watched.” She ignored the glare Beatrice sent her way.
Arthur frowned. “Are you certain?”
“Of course I am. Do you think I have stayed alive al these years by being foolish or blind? Your nephew and that annoying bastard Leopold are
tucked in between two houses just across the street. One of my men saw them there.”
“Then get rid of them,” said Beatrice. “If you have men who can get close enough to see where they are hiding, then you can get men close enough
to them to cut their throats.”
“You wish me to order my men to kil an earl and a baron directly across the street from where I live?”
“I am certain you know of many places where the bodies can be hidden.”
Arthur stared at the window, tempted to move to it and see if he could find his nephew in the shadows. The boy was proving to be a royal thorn in
his side. His plan had been perfect, Beatrice one of his best weapons, and yet Julian stil lived. Arthur had seen how blindly besotted Julian had been with Beatrice and Beatrice had certainly done her part, yet Julian had survived or avoided every accident they had planned out for him.
When his nephew had stated that under no circumstances would he fight in defense of his wife’s honor ever again, Arthur had known that Beatrice
had lost her value as a weapon. It was then that he had begun to look to outsiders to do what needed to be done, and they too had failed. Even though he
was often drunk and roaming about the stews where murder was common, Julian had managed to evade death again and again. Arthur had begun to
have dreams where he just walked up to Julian and shot the arrogant little bastard in the head. That would be a huge mistake, but at least it would end this interminable game.
He took a deep breath to calm the fury that surged through him every time he thought of Julian, of how the man thwarted Arthur’s careful y laid
plans at every turn. The fact that the fool had not even realized someone wanted him dead until recently only added to Arthur’s burning rage. Someone that
blind should not be al owed to live. Now, however, it was going to be even more difficult to be rid of his nephew, or nephews, for Nigel could not be
al owed to take the helm of Colinsmoor, either. Not only did Arthur no longer have Colinsmoor to rule over and access to its riches to fund his plans, but he had been cast out like some impoverished relative who had overstayed his welcome. Al of society now watched him and Beatrice with suspicion. Worse,
there were secrets hidden at Colinsmoor that he had had no time to col ect or destroy, proof of things he had done that could get him hanged a hundred
times over.
The sound of the two women arguing and exchanging insults final y pul ed Arthur from his dark thoughts. Simone spoke in a cold, too-sweet voice
that Beatrice, if she were not so stupid, should have known was a deadly warning and one she would be wise to heed. Beatrice was cold, could order
someone’s death without a qualm and had done so many times, but Simone could do her kil ing herself, quickly and silently. Although it appeared that
Beatrice was becoming more a liability than an asset, he was not ready to be rid of her yet. She could stil have uses, if only through her sexual greed and her beauty.
“Enough,” he said in a cold, hard voice and both women immediately grew silent and looked at him. “This arguing amongst ourselves only aides
our enemies.” Tight-lipped, Simone nodded her agreement, but Beatrice pouted. “Since Leopold Wherlocke is with the Home Office, we have to assume
that Julian has gained himself some powerful al ies.”
“And that someone has begun to realize your interests are in more than becoming the earl,” said Simone. “I did not think of that, for I have had to
deal with Leopold before.”
“Perhaps I should—” began Beatrice.
“No,” said Simone. “Wherlocke is not seducible. Better than you have tried. And Julian is obviously united with Leopold, so that man now knows
more about you than is good. It would only give him more strength against you.”
Arthur could see that Beatrice took that as a personal insult, and he inwardly sighed. He would try to rein her in just once more, and if she
continued to put them al at risk with her recklessness, he would have to make her disappear. For a moment he considered the idea that she might wel
serve him one last favor. If he gave it some thought, he might be able to make her death look like murder with the finger of guilt pointing straight at Julian. It was a thought that eased some of his growing anger.
“If you would excuse me,” Beatrice said icily as she stood up and brushed down her skirts. “I require a moment of privacy.”
Simone cursed the moment the door shut behind Beatrice. “She has become dangerous, Arthur. To you and to me.”
“I wil take care of her. She was a useful tool and she may yet have a purpose, but I am no sentimental fool. I watch my back most careful y.”
“I know. While she is gone, let us discuss this information you said you could obtain for me. Have your recent troubles caused that plan to fail?”
For a few moments, they discussed the information he had promised her. She wanted it badly, having already told her superiors about it. Arthur
had to soothe her with assurances that he had not been defeated, only delayed. It was not the truth. The man he had thought would get him what he
needed had disappeared, and none of the ones searching for him had yet found a clue as to where he had gone. The man’s fiancée would probably
know, but grabbing hold of her so that they could pry the truth out of her would be a risky venture.
“There,” said Beatrice with an irritating cheer as she rejoined them, “al is taken care of.”
Before Arthur could ask what she meant, the sound of swords clashing reached their ears and he joined Simone in glaring at Beatrice, but it was
Simone who spoke. “What have you done, you stupid whore?”
“How dare you,” began Beatrice.
“I dare.” Simone pul ed a knife from some hidden pocket in her voluminous skirts and started toward Beatrice. “You have put us al at risk, but do
not worry about how that may harm you. You wil be too dead to notice.”
Arthur stepped between the two women even though he was tempted to let Simone kil Beatrice. “Not now.” He turned to look at Beatrice, who
obviously had enough wits to understand that he had not given Simone a resounding no. “Answer the question, woman. What have you done?”
“I sent some men out to rid us of those two fools. That Leopold is a danger to al of us, and you want Julian dead. This wil give us what we al
want.”
“This wil give us nothing but trouble,” snapped Simone, but she sheathed her knife. “Did you leave your carriage in front, Arthur?”
“No. I sent it round to the back.”
“I wil join you in a moment and we wil go somewhere else. If we are very lucky, those two men wil end their lives out there and we wil have been
seen so far away from here we could never be accused of the crime,” she said as she strode out of the room.
“Arthur,” began Beatrice.
“Shut up and move. We have to get away from here before too many people are drawn to the fight and we are seen.”
Arthur strode out of the room not particularly caring if Beatrice came with him or not. Everything was fal ing to pieces around him. He knew it was
not al Beatrice’s fault, but he would have to give some hard thought to her uses or complete lack thereof, especial y since Simone was so sure that
Beatrice would not be able to seduce Wherlocke. It was time to decide if and when he would strike where he knew for certain Julian had a weakness. If he
was judging the relationship between Julian and the little Wherlocke woman correctly, he might be able to do that without even leaving the city.
Julian was about to point out to Leo that they were fighting a losing battle in their attempts to see or hear anything that was going on inside the
house they crept around when he saw a movement to his right. He pushed Leo to the side and drew his sword just in time to counter the thrust of an
attacker’s sword. Behind him he could hear that Leo had quickly drawn his own sword and was also engaged in a battle.
The two men who had attacked them were excel ent swordsmen, but they could not breach the smal fortress Julian and Leo made by standing
back to back and wielding their swords with a skil that matched, perhaps even exceeded, theirs. Julian was beginning to think the victory would only
come when one of them grew too exhausted to fight anymore when he felt Leo jerk behind him.
“You hurt?” he asked without once taking his attention off the man trying to skewer him.
“A scratch. Curse it, they are fleeing,” he muttered.
Julian suddenly heard the sound of a carriage pul ing away from behind the house. “Going to try and make it look as if they were somewhere else
when two lords of the realm were brutal y murdered on their doorstep.”
“Exactly.”
Not sure whether it was the thought that he was about to kil two lords of the realm or the realization that he was being deserted to take al the
blame for it, but the man facing Julian hesitated. Julian saw the brief distraction of his opponent and took quick advantage of it. In two quick moves, he
disarmed the man and thrust his sword through his heart. He turned to help Leo only to see that his opponent had made the same mistake. Unlike Julian,
however, Leo disarmed his foe and then stabbed him through the shoulder. When the man stumbled back and started to turn to flee, Leo kicked him in the
face and the man fel to the ground like a stone.
Julian stared down at the man and then looked at Leo. The move he had made had been swift and graceful. “A good kick.”
“Learned it from a Frenchman.”
“An enemy taught you that?”
“Actual y, he is only partly French and a relative. And at the moment, the French are not exactly our enemies. Aside from that, he is one of ours.”
Leo winced as he crouched down to tie the man’s hands behind his back with his own cravat. “I wil need your help in carrying this fel ow back to the
carriage.”
“Because of your scratch?” Julian wished it were not so dark, for he had the feeling that Leo’s wound was more than a scratch. “Al ow me,” he
drawled and picked up the man, putting him over his shoulder. “I hope we can get to the carriage without being seen. This wil be a little difficult to explain.”
“Someone tried to rob us and we are taking him to the authorities.”
“You are obviously accustomed to coming up with a tale to explain such strange things. I see. Sorry I kil ed my opponent. Just thought of staying
alive and not of how the man might be a useful source of information.”
“One is al we need. The only thing I am sorry for is that your uncle and Simone have fled and wil undoubtedly be able to show that they were