Chapter 26

26

“Hazel, darling, are you nervous?”asked Calliope.

The poor thing kept clutching her gloved hands as she watched the room full of elegantly turned out ladies and gentlemen.

“Of course she’s nervous,” barked Nathaniel, who looked incredibly dashing in his navy uniform and his long hair perfectly combed and tied at the back of his head. Even when he was angry, he didn’t cease to take Calliope’s breath away. “She shouldn’t be here.”

“I’m fine,” said Hazel, who, pale and big-eyed, didn’t look fine at all. “But you’re right, brother, I shouldn’t be here. I told you I didn’t want to be.”

“Yes, you do,” said Grandmama, who stood proudly by Hazel’s side, smiling her wise, eternal smile. “You won’t fool me, Lady Hazel. This is your time, and you want this, no matter how much you’re trying to tell us you don’t.”

The salon of Emma, the Duchess of Loxchester, swarmed with people. It was her first time organizing a real soirée for an exclusive number of members of the ton. And, just like Hazel, she was slightly pale. She stood talking to the admiral, next to Penelope and Preston. Richard and Jane were also here, and Jane—standing and talking to Lady Whitemouth and Lady Isabella, her daughter—gave an excited little wave to Calliope.

There were about twenty more people, including Sebastian’s mama; the Bishop of London; Penelope’s cousin, Alexandria; and the Duchess of Ashton. The presence of Lady Whitemouth and the Duchess of Ashton was especially important for Emma’s improving social status. Her marriage to Sebastian had been quite scandalous, with rumors that she was a farmer’s daughter whom he’d bought at a village auction.

Which was true in part. Emma had been married to a minor landowner, and it was her husband who’d sold her to Sebastian. However, her marriage had been annulled by the Bishop of London after they’d proved that Emma’s former husband had committed fraud when signing the marriage contract.

The scandal lingered, and Lady Whitemouth, a known gossip, was a contributing factor. Sebastian, however, kept defending his wife’s honor tooth and nail, and his mama helped as well, as she had come to adore Emma.

“You’re going to be fine,” said Calliope. “If I know anything about your brother, you’re not in danger of getting married off today or anytime soon.”

Calliope, Hazel, and Grandmama all looked up at Nathaniel, who threw them a sideways glance, arranging his face to appear cold, his shoulders square, his spine as straight as a pole.

“Quite,” he said.

Calliope chuckled and raised her eyebrow as she met Hazel’s gaze. “See. Just enjoy yourself if you can.”

Hazel let out a long sigh, and, for the first time since Calliope had met her, gave Calliope a genuine, friendly smile. “You’re right, sister.”

Sister…Calliope’s heart swelled.

“Come, darling, let me introduce you to some people,” said Grandmama and led Hazel away. “Indeed, enjoy your coming out.”

Calliope turned to Nathaniel, studying him. He looked tense, his gaze never leaving his sister for a moment. “Nathaniel, what is it? Are you really that concerned about Hazel?”

He cleared his throat. “I won’t let anyone hurt her.”

“Of course you won’t. But we’re not in the middle of the rookeries. We’re at a duchess’s soirée in Mayfair. There aren’t even many single young men…” She looked around. “Just two. And one of them clearly prefers male company.”

Nathaniel followed her gaze to find a handsome blond man who stood talking so close to another gentleman their chests almost touched.

The second young man could be more concerning. Tall, dark-haired, and striking, he talked to Lady Isabella, and so far, was not interested in Hazel.

“I know,” said Nathaniel. He was very tense, and Calliope didn’t know why.

She felt him pull away from her, and she didn’t know what to do about it. Fear crippled her. She felt too much for him, too soon. He was a big, strong, kind man…but if she trusted him, made herself vulnerable, he could break her.

Like William had.

And so instead of reaching out to him, asking what was the matter, telling him she was afraid he would hurt her, she retreated back into what occupied pretty much every second of her life when she wasn’t thinking of Nathaniel, the girls, or fixing Roxburgh.

Finding Spencer.

“Right,” she said. “Well then, let’s use our time wisely. Jane’s here, and I want to ask her advice on how to best approach Thorne.”

“Thorne?” Nathaniel’s attention snapped to Calliope for the first time that evening. “Thorne Blackmore?”

“Yes, Thorne Blackmore. He’s Jane’s brother, so he’s my brother-in-law…and yours.”

“Please don’t tell me you want to go to Whitechapel—to goddamn Elysium—to talk to him!”

There he was again, the sea devil, his gaze burning.

“Yes, I do, Nathaniel. Harvey gave us some clues, and I don’t want to sit back and wait until next week if I could have Thorne’s help. Maybe he knows the man. Or he can ask his people to find him. He’s like a king over there, isn’t he?”

“The king of criminals,” Nathaniel spat out. “You promised you wouldn’t go there alone.”

“And I won’t. That’s why I’m talking to you about it. As we agreed.”

If he reacted this way to her talking to Jane’s brother, what would he say to her becoming a professional investigator? Where would this marriage go? Surely he wouldn’t go with her every time she’d need to do some sneaking around.

He’d break her heart, wouldn’t he? This magnificent man who gave her multiple orgasms and protected her like a large golden bear, and chased away the only shadow she’d ever been afraid of…

“And I appreciate it,” he said, his voice softening. “Let’s discuss this after the soirée. How about I introduce you to Admiral Langden? He’s a good friend who helped me with my commission in the navy and had supported me all these years.”

Calliope nodded, a heavy, cold feeling nestling in her stomach. “Splendid idea.”

* * *

* * *

The sun was about to set behind the roofs when Argos stood up from the cobblestoned ground of the mews and growled, looking at the gate.

Violet, trying to ignore the dog, angled Calliope’s book so that the last golden rays of the sunlight fell right on the page she was reading. The investigator in the book had just climbed in through the suspect’s first-floor window, and as he’d landed, the floor had creaked under his foot!

“Argos, sit!” Poppy exclaimed.

She sat right on the ground in the dirt and unsuccessfully tried to interest Miss Furrington in playing with a dry straw.

Poppy had brought Miss Furrington out to the mews to play with the dogs, and instead, Miss Furrington had joined Cerberus in the dirt, cuddling in between the dog’s front legs, happily blinking her sleepy eyes. The straw didn’t stand a chance.

Oh, Calliope was going to be cross…all that white fur turning gray… And Mrs. Nicholson was going to have fits at the state of Poppy’s dress.

But instead of ceasing his growls, Argos barked. And when Argos barked, walls shook.

“Argos!” cried Poppy, jumping to her feet.

Unfortunately, Orion came running from the other side of the yard, his own barking, though not as tremendous as Argos’s, fierce and loud. Argos stood on his hind legs and leaned over the gate with his whole body. Violet laid Calliope’s book aside while Poppy continued yelling for the dogs to sit, and walked to the gate, staring at Argos.

Standing, Argos was as tall as she was, his large, meaty jaws positively terrifying, with those huge clashing, sharp fangs.

“What is it, Argos?” asked Violet.

He wouldn’t do this for no reason. Nathaniel had trained him well. Argos kept letting out worried barks, still leaning on the gate, the hardware rattling from his weight. Whatever had him on edge was behind this gate to the mews.

Violet peered through a thin crack. She didn’t see anything out of the ordinary at first. The street beyond was empty.

And then she saw them. Three men walked down the street towards Roxburgh looking like that burglar who had attacked Calliope in the alley next to Bond Street.

One of them was taller than the other two. All three had coats and trousers that had seen some wear. They walked about ten feet away, one of them staring at the gate where he, no doubt, heard Argos and Orion tearing their throats out as they barked. Even Cerberus, the little beagle, left his comfy place with Miss Furrington and joined his two friends, adding his howls to their barks.

“Three men, Poppy,” she muttered, and Poppy glued herself to the gate, peering through a crack, as well.

Mrs. Nicholson was sick in her bed with a fever and a sore throat. And Joshua was visiting his family.

Nathaniel, Calliope, and Hazel were at the Duchess of Loxchester’s soirée. Did these men think Violet and Poppy were out, as well? Or did they know they were home alone…?

One of the men boldly approached the brick wall surrounding the mews.

She saw the largest man take a crowbar from behind a bench he had stopped next to, and the other one had a pistol. Clearly, they were not afraid of the dogs. Violet’s blood chilled. The men walked down the fence, watching it in estimation, talking quietly. Were they discussing how to climb over? The dogs were livid by this point—any petty criminal would be running away.

Violet and Poppy exchanged a long, terrified gaze.

“Why do they want to break in?” asked Violet. “We have nothing of value.”

“What are we going to do?” Poppy cried. “They’re not going to hurt the dogs, surely.”

Not just the dogs, Violet thought but didn’t say it out loud. Violet had never seen her brave and adventurous sister this pale. It was usually Poppy who’d suggest doing mischief and breaking rules.

Violet thought quickly. They could run. They could hire a hackney and go to Sumhall or to find Nathaniel and Calliope at the soirée. Or they could seek the help of Bow Street Runners…who probably wouldn’t believe them, anyway. But the men might catch them as they ran for the street.

“We’re going to trick them!” said Violet, a plan forming in her head.

She’d read many of Calliope’s inquiry books, about adventures and thugs and investigators chasing them… Sometimes they didn’t need any weapons, just a sleight of hand, something clever, to trick the attackers.

“I have an idea,” Violet whispered, her eyes darting around. “Get the dogs and the cat inside! The thugs will kill the dogs if they see them out in the open. And don’t come out. I’ll take care of the stairs.”

Poppy, swallowing hard, nodded, determination lighting up her features. She scooped up the cat, who stared at the brick wall with large, round eyes, her tail jerking nervously.

“Come!” Poppy called to the dogs, and they reluctantly stopped barking and followed her inside.

Violet ran towards an old whale oil barrel that had just a little bit left at the bottom, but it would be enough. She scooped up a cup of the stinking liquid. Running back towards the servants’ entrance, she could hear the thugs grunting as they tried to jump over the tall fence.

She flew up the stairs. Leaning against the wall was the broken railing from Calliope’s near fall. Nathaniel still hadn’t found the time to repair it, and they’d all just gotten used to avoiding it as they had with so many things in the crumbling house. She put down the mug of oil, picked up the railing, and set it back into the holes in the stairs as best she could. Then she poured oil over the stairs and the little landing before running back inside and through the servants’ corridor.

Poppy and the dogs waited for her at the entrance to the servants’ corridor, the dogs held by their leashes but growling, their faces positively terrifying. The cat perched on the stairs leading to the bedroom floor and watched everything with wild eyes.

“Good. Hide the dogs behind the corner over here,” Violet said to Poppy. It felt strange to be telling her adventurous sister what to do, but someone had to take charge. “I have something else in mind. Whatever you do, keep the dogs quiet.”

Poppy nodded, giving the dogs the command to be quiet, then led them around the corner, out of sight of the servants’ door.

Violet ran into the library to remove the board covering the rotten floorboards and saw from the window how the thugs climbed over the fence and raced through the mews towards the servants’ stairs. The first one managed to climb three stairs before he slipped and grabbed on to the railing. The railing came off in his hand just as intended. He flailed as he started to pitch backward, then overcompensated and threw himself forward, landing face-first on the stairs and sliding back down, taking both of his companions with him.

Giggling, excited from her first success, Violet ran on tiptoe around the now-exposed rotten boards and joined Poppy. Her sister crouched behind the dogs with big eyes, breathing hard. Violet could hear the uneven, heavy footsteps of limping men as they tried to make their way more carefully up the slippery stairs. The fall must have hurt them.

“Do you remember the rotten boards in the library’s entrance?” asked Violet. “I removed the board covering them. Try to lure one of them there. Maybe he’ll fall through—and right into the basement.”

“Very well. Be ready to attack…” Poppy whispered to the dogs.

The door from the servants’ quarters into the master’s hallway flew open and one after another, the men came in.

“Attack!” Poppy cried the command Nathaniel had been teaching them for years.

With a tremendous growl, the three dogs launched themselves at the nearest man—who had a gun. He screamed as Argos went for his neck, Orion for his arm holding the gun, and Cerberus for his crotch. The man fell, and his pistol went off with an explosion that filled the hallway with smoke. The thug with the crowbar raised his arm, about to hit Argos.

But the crowbar knocked into a thick medieval shelf bearing the Kelford coat of arms, which hung above the servants’ entrance. It was one of the last wall decorations in the house as no one was interested in buying it. As though their ancestors were guarding them, it fell right on the man’s head, dropping him to the floor like a sack of meat and bones.

While the first man continued to scream under the dogs’ assault, the third one stared right at Violet and Poppy, his eyes bulging and teeth bared. He was the one who had fallen on the stairs, and his nose looked purple and swollen like a potato, with blood oozing from his nostrils.

“Run!” she screamed to Poppy, and the two of them set off to the library.

“Oy, where ya think you’re off to?” he shouted. “You’re comin’ with me, ain’t ya?”

They tiptoed around the rotten boards and went farther into the safety of the library, and just as Violet had planned, the man followed them but barged right through the part where the boards were so badly decayed. With every step, they cracked, but he didn’t fall through. Violet grabbed Poppy’s hand, and they both backed away. She didn’t have another plan in mind!

As he reached the last rotten floorboards, they emitted a loud crack, and his leg went through to his knee, but he didn’t fall through all the way. It seemed all it had done was infuriate the man even further. He pulled himself up and barged into the library, a knife in his hand.

“Ya reckon yer little tricks can hold me back?”

He grabbed Poppy’s hand and tugged her after him.

“No!” Violet cried out as she dashed after her sister.

The man jabbed at her, and a sharp pain sliced through her arm. She grasped the arm with her other hand, blood seeping between her fingers.

Suddenly, the thug stopped in the doorway as another form filled it.

Her brother, with Calliope and Hazel peeking from behind him, their eyes huge. The man let go of Poppy and launched at Nathaniel with a snarl, knife raised. Nathaniel’s face distorted, murder written in his expression.

No doubt Nathaniel won money boxing.

The intruder didn’t have a chance. One jab in the face with Nathaniel’s knuckles, and the man hit the door behind him, his head banging against the wood. The knife dropped to the floor with a clank, but before Nathaniel could grab him again, he ducked and darted, maneuvering between Nathaniel, Calliope, and Hazel.

That did it. With a loud crash, he fell through the boards, wailing as he plummeted, then went silent.

Somehow, the three intruders and her cut, which hurt like it was on fire, didn’t frighten Violet nearly as much as the furious and terrified look on her brother’s face.