In the Brief Eternal Silence (54 page)

Bertie whispered, “St. James bade me to tell
you she is yours, Miss Murdock, whatever comes out of all of this,
for he expressly purchased her for you yesterday. He says he knows
she's no Gold Leaf, but he hopes that she will do adequately until
such time as you are at Morningside and are able to be reunited
with your horse.”

“Oh, she will do splendidly,” Miss Murdock
breathed. “And he should not have been worried about a mount for me
when he has so many other matters on his mind.”

“Well, that is St. James, Miss Murdock.
Forever unpredictable,” he told her, and if he sounded a little
off-hand, his next words showed her that he was not nearly as
flighty as she had first assumed that he was. “And as I can see
from the look on your face that you are predicting that he will
come to harm tonight, just remember that he will surely come out
unscathed just to be contrary.”

And she gave a sudden laugh, finding a degree
of comfort in his words that she had been unable to produce for
herself. “Is that how you bear it, Bertie?”

“But, of course!” he laughed with her.
“However, there is a rather nasty flip side to that coin.”

“Meaning that when you least expect there to
be trouble with him, that is when you need to be the most on your
guard?”

“Alas. But for tonight we shall not dwell on
that little unpleasantness,” and his blue eyes twinkled at her in
the darkness of the courtyard between house and stables. “If you
are ready to mount, Miss Murdock?” and he threw her into the saddle
and mounted his own horse with less difficulty than she would have
guessed from the size of his girth.

The filly danced beneath her, and she had her
hands full for a moment in controlling her mount, but somehow, that
natural activity, and the fresh coldness of the damp air after the
previous rain helped to clear her mind. Or perhaps it had been
Bertie's words, also. But whatever the reason, she now felt as
though she had spent the last hour sleepwalking for her mind had
been so numb, but now she began to feel quite calm and
purposeful.

Bertie, unaware of any change in Miss
Murdock's bearing, started out, and she allowed him to keep them to
a walk until they left the mew along side the house and also a
short distance down the main street. But then as he turned them
down a side street, she only continued until they were out of sight
of the main road, and then brought her horse to an abrupt stop.

Bertie, with some surprise, halted his horse
and looked back at her. “Is something amiss, Miss Murdock?” he
asked.

And she had to bite back a grin, for she
could see that he was looking pained already, as though he had not
expected the task set for him to be so easy and was not all that
surprised when it now seemed that it may not be. “It is just that
we are going in the wrong direction, you know,” she told him.

He frowned at her with annoyance. “No, no,
Miss Murdock, I assure you, it may not be the same way we arrived,
but we are headed for the North Road and Chestershire.”

“Indeed, I am aware of that,” Miss Murdock
agreed, “but it is not at all the direction I wish to go in.”

He turned his horse and came back so that
they were facing each other on their mounts. “Now, Miss Murdock,
you are trying to get me into a great deal of trouble, I can see!
Now, mind, St. James told me he had settled all with you, and I
have even already visited the paper's office so that the banns
shall be in tomorrow. And although I know that you are not happy
about any of this, I assure you, that he really does have your best
interests at heart—”

“Of course he does,” she agreed, and Lord
Tempton looked a little bewildered at this ready admission, when he
had seen for himself her complete reluctance earlier that
afternoon. “But although I agreed to the banns being posted, I
really do not recall expressly agreeing to returning to my home.
Now, we are headed in the wrong direction, so we must turn our
horses back, at this point, and onto the main road. And if you wish
to avoid the main road, then we must take a side street headed not
northeast, but south and west.”

And he gaped at her, but as she only remained
calm, he resorted to a rather pitiful pleading. “Now, Miss
Murdock,” he whined, “you can not be suggesting that I take you to
where his meeting is taking place?”

And Miss Murdock had the sudden insight that
if this were where she wished to go, she could in fact induce him
to take her, despite his fear of displeasing St. James, and his own
common sense on the lack of this being in any way recommendable.
This amused her a great deal, and rather than hold it against him,
it merely made her understand why St. James put such a high value
on Bertie's friendship, for there was nothing, in fact, that he
would not do when asked of him, even if he felt it most
unadvisable. And she felt sympathy for him as well, for she could
only imagine the many scrapes that St. James had led him with
reluctance into.

But that was not what she had in mind at all.
“No,” she said, her voice decisive. “For if we did not manage to
muck up whatever plans he has made, and perhaps get him killed in
the bargain, he would murder both of us, I am sure. And although I
have come to understand that he allows me a great deal of leeway,
even I should not care to push him to that degree.”

Bertie looked somewhat relieved at these
words. “Well, thank God, Miss Murdock, that you are indeed going to
be sensible upon that point! Now if you will only see your way
clear to understand that we must—”

But she interrupted him with a little laugh.
“Indeed, not, Bertie! For if I am sensible enough to see that my
presence is unwanted and unneeded for his activities tonight, I am
also sensible enough to see that there is absolutely nothing I can
do from Chestershire to aid him, whereas if I am here, there is at
least one thing I can see to, or hope, at any rate, to see to. And
that is finding Steven.”

Bertie gave an emphatic shake of his head.
“That is hardly better, Miss Murdock! For if you think St. James
will take a charitable view of my allowing you to wander the
streets of London at night, then you are quite mistaken!”

“I am hoping that will not be necessary, and
if you would but bear with me for one moment, I shall endeavor to
explain.”

And Bertie, with a great sigh of resignation,
said, “I am sure you shall, Miss Murdock.”

At about the same time as Bertie was fast
losing his battle to Miss Murdock, St. James was but a half mile
from them riding not south and west as Miss Murdock wished to go,
but south and east, toward the heart of London. His horse was
walking, and he was taking a route of side streets and mews, and he
was quite alone as Miss Murdock had feared.

Contrarily, St. James found a good deal of
satisfaction in this circumstance, and relief. Having company on a
night such as this when his business was nefarious would have been
nothing but a distraction and a nuisance. His greatest nightmare
was not of his own death, but the loss of a friend on his behalf.
And it had frittered through his mind on more than one occasion
that in some sort of chaotic misfortune, he may end by killing
someone there to help him by mistake.

No. It had been no great hardship for him to
decline offers of assistance that night. And although Tyler had
taken the desistance of his help without complaint but with a great
deal of disapproval, Andrew on the other hand had been more
inclined to argue, and St. James had been forced to be blunt in
saying that tired as Andrew was he would be of no use to him, and
more than likely, a hindrance, perhaps even a peril.

Andrew had at last accepted this argument,
but with a quantity of cursing that he should have wasted his
energies looking for a messenger boy who by all appearances did not
wish to be found at any rate, when he would have been of more use
to St. James that evening if he had but conserved his energy. St.
James had told him with sharpness that as he had shot that boy's
father the night before, he felt rather responsible for him, and
hence the searching had been as necessary, in fact to his mind,
more necessary, than having his cousin acting as a nanny for
him.

“And do not forget, Andrew, that I have
managed up to this point without your well-meaning assistance, and
you will forgive me if I am confident that I can manage tonight
without it also. I have a rather more daunting task for you on the
morrow at any rate.”

Andrew had been rather intrigued at this
notion. “Indeed? Only tell me what it is you wish me to do, St.
James, for you must know by now that I am your man!”

“You will need to convince your rather
misguided mother that you have not eloped with Miss Murdock.”

And as Andrew had been a good deal shocked by
this statement, St. James proceeded to explain Lady Lydia's
assumption and the problems that it would produce. The first
consequence of which was Ryan's well-meaning but ill-advised flight
after the presumed eloping couple who had in fact, never left
London.

And through out all of this interview in St.
James' study, with Tyler, Earl Larrimer, Lord Tempton and
Effington, Dante had paced with unsteadiness about the room,
flexing his left arm in a constant testing of how much pressure and
movement it could take so that he would be aware to a certainty to
what degree he could count upon it.

“And grandmother?” Andrew asked, anxious.
“She must be out of her mind with worry.”

“More likely with vexation,” St. James
returned, “for I do not think she would swallow such a tale out of
hand. Especially when it is Aunt Lydia who has surmised it. No
insult intended against your mother, Andrew,” he added.

“You needn't tell me that she has the most
damnedably insane notions at times,” Andrew replied. “But they are
at least usually harmless. For something to possess her to take
this idea into her head, and then apparently speak of it without
compunction to who ever happened to be on hand, is even more
irresponsible of her than normal. And I needn't tell you, that for
her to be in any way damaging my snowy white reputation nearly
boggles my mind, for she has always held it as near holy to be
respectable! It is quite, quite unlike her.”

He sounded a great deal bewildered as well as
tired, and St. James had spared him a wry grin. “Do not fret,
Andrew. I have already had Bertie post the banns of my and Miss
Murdock's engagement and they should be in the morning's paper.
That will certainly throw some doubt on the story your mother has
told. And the females, I imagine, will look upon you as very
dangerous indeed to have tried eloping with your cousin's
fiancé.”

“Yes,” Bertie agreed as Andrew expressed
surprise that St. James had in fact, offered for Miss Murdock.
“None of them will feel safe in your presence, and so they shall
find being in your presence all that more desirable.”

The clock on the mantel had then struck ten
times, interrupting their laughter and Andrew's demands for
explanation, for he had not thought that St. James had progressed
to a point where he desired engagement (and especially to a female
he had only met some four days before!).

But St. James had not enlightened him in the
least, the tolling of the clock seeming to drive all but the most
immediate matters from his mind. He nodded at Effington, his face
losing its brief look of diversion and he now appeared very grim
indeed.

Effington left the room. St. James reminded
Bertie, “No later than midnight, Bertie, mind you. Earlier if she
is ready before. Tyler will have the horses in readiness for
you.”

“I understand, St. James. Needn't badger
me.”

But St. James was busy taking down a second
weapon from where it hung, an intimidating decoration, amongst many
others on the wall. There was still no sign of his missing dueling
pistol, and he regretted very much not having it, but he only
selected another to take the place of the one that was lost. He
checked it with expertise before lying it with his remaining
dueling pistol upon his desk. Then, with a little difficulty, he
shrugged into his great coat that Effington had before brought down
to him, and secured his pistols into his waist band beneath it. He
tested his left cross draw, wincing as he did so, but nodded with
resignation if not satisfaction. He was capable with it, although
lamentably slower than normal.

Andrew interrupted all of this activity by
asking once again, “But what about grandmother, St. James? You know
as well as I that she will positively grill me!”

“She'll see the banns. Stick with your story.
Miss Murdock is safely at her home in Chestershire, which by the
time you speak to grandmother, such will be the truth. You needn't
add that her arrival there was delayed by a full twenty-four hours.
I know you dislike misleading her, but it will only upset her
further if she is aware of any of this, and as, I believe, her main
concern is whether I am to marry the chit or not, she will be
mollified.”

Then without further delay, he made a little
motion of goodbye and turned to the door to take his leave. His
eyes were bright beneath their half closed lids and there was a
strange half-smile upon his features that rather than comforting
any of those that were left, only made them feel a good deal more
concerned. Then he was gone, the door clicking behind him, and in
that second they perhaps all understood how completely content he
was to be, in fact, alone. It made them all feel quite useless.

Now he directed his horse onto a little used
path into Hyde Park, and was swallowed into the night as he left
the street lamps behind. He rode a little off the trail, his
mount's feet slipping in the wet grass. But the rain had stopped
and all that was left was an increasing fog spreading upon the
ground. He found this ideal, for it muffled the sound of his
horse's movements.