"You will find that I can be quite generous in such matters."
"I do not doubt it." Madame Virtue lifted the reins. "Tell
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me, is it true what they say about the men in your family, sir? Are they all madmen and sorcerers?"
"Only some of them," Leo replied. "The problem for most people is that it is impossible to tell which ones are the sorcerers and which ones are merely mad until it is much too late."
Madame Virtue chuckled. She glanced toward the temple ruin, where Beatrice waited. "I think your Mrs. Poole will be more than capable of dealing with whichever one you prove to be, my lord. Good day to you."
She slapped the reins against the geldings' rumps with an expert flick of her wrist. The horses set off at a stylish trot. Leo watched the black curricle disappear around the bend in the path, then he turned and walked back to where Beatrice stood.
"A most interesting woman." Beatrice gazed thoughtfully after the departed vehicle. "And possibly a very dangerous one.-
Leo glanced at her in surprise. "Because of her profession?"
"No, because there is a great deal of pain buried deep inside her."
Leo frowned. "How can you know that?"
Beatrice shivered. "I could hear it in her laughter."
Leo thought about that for a moment. The memory of brittle icicles sleeted through his mind. He said nothing. "Well?" Beatrice looked at him expectantly. "What do you think?"
"I believe that she is a bit worried that we will accuse her of theft and murder."
Beatrice sighed. "I tried to convince her that was not my intention. What did you say to her a moment ago when you escorted her to her curricle?"
"I offered to pay her for any information she might happen across. A woman in her profession sometimes
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learns a great deal from her clients. At heart, Madame Virtue is a businesswoman."
"Yes, I think you are correct." Beatrice frowned. "What if we assume that my uncle was not deliberately murdered? What if Uncle Reggie's death was actually caused by a heart seizure or even an accidental overdose of his elixir? Madame Virtue might have found the Rings in his clothing and stolen them before she summoned help."
Leo shook his head. "Not likely. In the first place, I doubt that your uncle would take such exceedingly valuable items with him to the House of the Rod, where he would be obliged to undress. He would have had to leave the Rings in his clothing."
"I take your point."
"Even if he had been so foolish as to leave a pair of priceless relics in his trousers while he enjoyed his flogging, it's unlikely that Madame Virtue would have recognized the true value of the Rings."
"That brings up an interesting point," Beatrice said. "Can you describe the Rings?"
"No. I did some research in my library before we left Devon. There are some descriptions of the statue in the legend, but none of the Rings."
"What if Madame Virtue simply discovered two valuable-looking pieces of jewelry in my uncle's clothes and decided to steal them?" A
.1 eatrice persisted.
Leo gazed down the path where the black curricle had disappeared. "Even if we say, for the sake of argument, that she did take the Rings, there is only one thing she would have done with them."
"What is that?"
"She would have sold them," Leo answered. "And the rumors of such a recent sale would have gone through every antiquities shop in Town. I would have heard them the moment I arrived in London."
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"Yes, of course." Beatrice said nothing more. Her expression grew pensive.
Leo frowned as the silence lengthened. "What the devil are you thinking now?"
"You say you offered to purchase information from Madame Virtue."
"What of it? I have always found that to be the easiest way to obtain that particular commodity.'
"I do not doubt it, my lord, but it occurs to me that before this affair is finished, we may find ourselves in the position of attempting to purchase the Rings from whoever now has them."
"So?" She narrowed her eyes. "That particular possibility is one we have not discussed. You said you would pay well for the Rings, but we never considered that you might have to pay twice over for them."
"Twice over?"
"Once to retrieve them from whoever possesses them now, and again to reimburse Arabella's dowry."
He realized that she was afraid he would renege on their arrangement if he had to pay twice for the Rings. The knowledge that she did not completely trust him angered him.
"Mrs. Poole, we have made a bargain. I am willing to pay whatever is necessary. I thought I had made that clear." "Oh.ff
"Is that all you can say after having insulted my honor?" She blushed. "I did not mean to do anything of the kind, my lord.f
"Nevertheless, I consider myself gravely offended." Her brows rose. "What will you do? Call me out?" "I have a more satisfactory solution."
"What is that?"
"Will you attend the theater with me tomorrow evening?"
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R i n g
"The theater?"
For some reason, the startled look in her eyes annoyed him even more than her distrust. It was as though she had never even considered the possibility of allowing him to escort her for an evening.
"I have a box for the Season, although I rarely use it," he said. "Your aunt and your cousin would accompany us, of course."
"That is very kind of you." Her eyes warmed. "Aunt Winifred and Arabella would be thrilled."
He opened his mouth to tell her that he had not issued the invitation solely to thrill her relatives. But a movement at the corner of his eye made him forget what he had been about to say.
It was only a very small shudder in the trees, the tiniest flutter of leaves. But there was no breeze today. The air was perfectly still.
"Bloody hell." He closed his hands around Beatrice's shoulders and jerked her close. "Mss me."
A strange expression lit her eyes. "I really don't think this is the time or place, my lord. We had agreed to keep our association on a businesslike footing-umph."
Beatrice stiffened as he covered her mouth with his own. And then she melted against him. After the briefest pause, her arms lifted to go around his neck.
Leo watched the leafy glade as he kissed her. Another tremor went through the branches. Then he caught a glimpse of a dark brown cap and the swish of a shirt-sleeve. Leo tore his mouth free. "Bastard."
'What on earth?" Beatrice staggered as he thrust her aside.
Leo plunged past her into the woods. Ahead of him he heard the crackle of broken branches. His quarry had abandoned stealth in favor of a hasty escape.
If only he had Elf with him, he thought. The hound would have brought down the fleeing watcher in a moment.
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"Leo, what are you doing?" Beatrice demanded. "What is going on?"
it was, he realized, the first occasion on which she had called him by his given name. Her timing could not have been more unfortunate. He heard her footsteps in the brush behind him.
Boots pounded through the undergrowth. A muffled curse floated back through the trees.
"Stand still, ye bloody nag."
Leo heard the thud of a horse's hooves and knew that he had lost his chance. He came to an abrupt halt.
Beatrice crashed through a small thicket and stumbled against him. "Oomph. Good heavens, sir. What is this all about? What did you see?"
"A man." He turned to steady her. "Watching us." He was briefly distracted by the sight of Beatrice, cheeks flushed from running, fashionable hat askew over one eye. Bits of leaves and some dirt clung to her gown. "Unfortunately, I was not close enough to catch him before he reached his horse."
"You say he was watching us?" She absently straightened her hat as she peered into the trees. "A passerby, perhaps? A curious lad who became frightened when you set off after him?"
"No." Leo pushed through a barrier of branches and saw the place where the horse had been tied. He studied the ground where the watcher had stood. The earth was disturbed by the imprint of a man's boots. "I do not think he happened past by accident. This is obviously a section of the park that is rarely used. Whoever he was, he stood here for a time."
Beatrice gazed at the trampled ground. "Do you think that someone deliberately followed us here today?"
I do not know. But one thing is certain." "What is that?"
He saw you meet with the brothel keeper. So much for
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your brilliant plan to remain incognito, Beatrice. We can only hope that your reputation is not in shreds within the hour."
She gave him a brittle smile. "If my good name is destroyed so quickly, will you withdraw your invitation to the theater?"
Her cavalier attitude toward the matter infuriated him. He held on to his temper with a heroic effort. "I am the Mad Monk," he reminded her. "I doubt that Society will think me any more eccentric than usual if I choose to escort a ruined woman to the theater."
0 ap ter S
An evil potion stirred by a skeletal hand ...
FRom CHAPTER EIGHT oF The Ruin BY MRs. AmELiA YoRK
ff -
-!Neatrice's reputation was still intact the next morning. Leo, seated in a chair in front of the fire in the coffee room of his club, contemplated the matter with mixed emotions.
On the one hand, it was a relief to know that her good name was secure, at least for the moment. But that fact immediately raised an unpleasant prospect. It meant that whoever had spied on the meeting between Beatrice and Madame Virtue likely had his own reasons for maintaining his silence.
Leo had spent the better portion of the night contemplating what those reasons might be. He had found none of them very reassuring.
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Q u i c k
He had come to his club to seek out information but thus far he had accomplished little. He glanced at the tall clock in the corner. He had promised to meet Beatrice at Hook's bookshop in half an hour.
He reached into his pocket, removed the letter from his son Carlton which had arrived that morning, and unfolded it. He was vaguely aware of the background sounds of muted conversations and the clink of china as he read.
Toured several more ruins early this morning. William insists upon sketching every single one of them. I regret to say they are all starting to look alike to me. One ancient, crumbling temple is indistinguishable from another.
Plummer dragged us through another gallery during the afternoon. William proclaimed some of the pictures (especially those that featured nude goddesses) to be quite interesting. I agreed with him concerning the goddesses. But I am convinced that if I am forced to admire one more landscape or another picture of saints dressed in flowing robes surrounded by plump cherubim, I shall likely expire from boredom.
Tomorrow will no doubt prove to be vastly more entertaining, indeed, fascinating. We have met a gentleman from England, Mr. Hendricks, who has settled here in Italy for a time. He is a man of science and he has invited us to tour his laboratory. He has promised that we shall perform several excellent experiments with his burning lens. If time permits, we may use his electricity machine to animate some dead frogs.
Mr. Hendricks has also kindly offered to show me a nearby field where flammable vapors emerge directly from the ground. It is in the vicinity of a
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volcano, and Mr. Hendricks believes that there may be a connection.
Leo smiled ruefully. Some fathers had to worry that their heirs would fall into the arms of an unsuitable woman. Carlton had been swept off his feet by the wonders of science instead. Perhaps, in the end, there was not much difference, he thought. Both had the power to captivate and enthrall. Both could cost a man a bloody fortune. Carlton would no doubt want to purchase a burning lens of his own when he returned from the tour.
"I say, Monkcrest, is that you?" A stout, elderly man with bushy gray brows and bristling whiskers paused in front of Leo's chair. "I'd heard you were in town."
"Tazewell." Leo refolded Carlton's letter and put it into his pocket. He glanced again at the tall clock. About time, he thought. He had almost given up on the baron. "How's the gout?"
"I have my good days and my bad days." Lord Tazewell lowered himself cautiously into a chair and propped a swollen ankle on a small stool. Glumly, he surveyed his foot. "Got myself a new doctor. Has me on a regimen of vinegar and tea. Nasty combination."
"It sounds unpleasant." Leo assumed what he hoped was a sympathetic expression.
The baron had been one of his grandfather's younger acquaintances. In spite of the twenty-year difference in their ages, the two had shared a mutual interest in the science of gardening. Leo had childhood memories ofwatching Tazewell and his grandfather hovering together over a tray of plants.
Leo also recalled that Tazewell was given to an endless litany of illnesses and infirmities. The baron changed doctors the way other people changed their clothes. He was always the first to try out the latest quack remedies or to sample the newest tonics. If anyone would know the mysterious Dr. Cox,,it would be Tazewell.
A m a n d a Q u i c k.
"Don't know if I'll carry on with the vinegar and tea much longer,"' Tazewell confided. "Can't see that it's doing me much good. Heard there's a new doctor in town who is achieving amazing cures with the use of magnets."
"Have you consulted with an apothecary or an herbalist?"
"Indeed, indeed." Tazewell settled quite happily into the subject of his health. "Been to any number of apothecaries. Charlatans and quacks, the lot of 'em. Sometimes think the only useful stuff they sell is laudanum."
"I have heard of a certain Dr. Crock," Leo said, deliberately vague. "Or was it Cox? Comb, perhaps. I cannot recall precisely. But I believe I was told that he sold some very useful herbal remedies."
"Cox?" Tazewell snorted. "I consulted with him a few months back. But he made it clear he could not help me. Specializes in the treatment of impotence, he said. I don't concern myself overmuch with that particular problem these days."