Dangerous

Chapter Fourteen

Oxenham had committed suicide. Either that or some­one had gone to a great deal of trouble to make it appear that he had.

The pistol lay inches from the dead man's hand. There was no evidence of a struggle.

Sebastian glanced quickly around the library. He could not stay long. He had to get Prudence out of the vicinity. But he wanted to find something that would convince him Oxenham had put the pistol to his own head and pulled the trigger.

Or something that would prove that he had not.

Gold gleamed on the carpet near Oxenham's outflung hand. Se­bastian edged closer, careful to stay clear of the blood. He glanced toward the window and saw Prudence watching him anxiously.

The gold object on the rug was a ring. He crouched down to get a closer look at it, wondering why it seemed familiar. Then he saw the elaborate letter F worked on the top. A Fleetwood ring, much like his own.

"Damnation." Without stopping to think about it, he scooped up the ring and rose quickly to his feet.

He turned toward the window and hesitated once more. He needed to be certain it was Oxenham that Jay in the pool of blood. It was impossible to see the man's face from this angle. He steeled him­self and stepped back toward the body.

"Don't touch him," Prudence whispered urgently. "Sebastian, we must get out of here."

"I know." But he could not leave until he was certain. Sebastian reached down, grasped the body by the shoulder, and turned the dead man over far enough to see what was left of his face.

It was definitely Oxenham.

Sebastian started to lower the limp corpse back into position. Gold gleamed once more, this time from the buttons of Oxenham's waist­coat. Sebastian leaned down and saw the words The Princes of Virtue engraved on them.

He let Oxenham's body fall back onto the carpet.

"For heaven's sake, Sebastian, hurry," Prudence whispered.

"I just want to take a quick look at his desk."

He walked carefully across the carpet to the desk. There were a handful of papers scattered about on top. Sebastian glanced through them quickly, searching to see if the dead man had left a note.

There was no letter explaining the suicide, but someone had, in­deed, left a message. Sebastian read it by the light of the dying lamp. It was short and to the point.

Lillian will be avenged.

Sebastian heard the voices from the front of the house at the same instant that Prudence did. The servants had returned.

"Sebastian, for God's sake, get out of there."

He picked up the note, shoved it into his pocket along with the Fleerwood ring, and ran for the window.

He vaulted over the sill, caught Prudence's hand, and drew her swiftly toward the garden gate.

They reached the lane without incident. Sebastian glanced back over his shoulder and saw no signs of pursuit. He hurried Prudence toward the waiting carriage.

The coachman eyed his passengers with doleful resignation as they emerged out of the fog. "It weren't my fault she took after ye, m'lord. I did me best."

"Home," Sebastian ordered. "We'll discuss your duties later."

"Aye, m'lord. Does this mean I've still got me job?"

"Your position is secure until you get us safely home." Sebastian opened the carriage door and tossed Prudence inside. "After that, the matter is questionable." He got into the cab behind Prudence and closed the door.

"You must not chastise the poor coachman. He did his best to follow your instructions," Prudence said breathlessly.

"He has been with me long enough to know that when I give an order I expect it to be obeyed," Sebastian said. "I pay the best wages in London and in return I demand that every member of my staff carry out my instructions to the letter. You could have been seen."

"Do stop worrying, Sebastian. I am certain we were safe." She struggled to extricate herself from the voluminous folds of the great­coat. "It will most likely be quite some time before someone checks the library and finds Oxenham's body."

"Or no time at all." Sebastian closed the curtains over the windows as the carriage rumbled forward. "Madam, in the future you will not disobey me."

"You may lecture me later, my lord. Tell me what you found."

He had only himself to blame for marrying a woman who shared his enthusiasm for investigation, Sebastian thought. He fumbled with one of the interior lamps until it flared to life. Then he lounged back in the seat and studied Prudence's expressive face. Her eyes were bright with the excitement of the adventure they had just shared. It was difficult to scold her when he was still feeling the same thrill course through his own veins.

He removed the ring and the note from his pocket. Without a word he handed both to her. "I'm not sure yet what I found. By the by, Oxenham's waistcoat was trimmed with buttons that had The Princes of Virtue engraved on them."

"Fascinating." Prudence studied the ring intently for a moment. "This ring is just like yours, my lord."

"Yes."

"What was it doing lying on the floor near Oxenham's body?"

"An excellent question," Sebastian said softly.

"And who is Lillian?"

Sebastian realized she was looking closely at the inside of the ring, not the note. "What do you mean?"

"The ring is inscribed on the inside." Prudence held it closer to the lamp. "To Lillian with love."

"Let me see that." Sebastian plucked the ring out of her fingers and examined the inscription. "Who the devil is Lillian?"

"You have heard the name before?"

"Read the note," he said.

Prudence glanced down at the sheet of foolscap on her lap. "Lil­lian will be avenged. Good grief, Sebastian, what on earth is going on?"

"I don't know, but I am starting to wonder if Lillian is the name of the woman that mad old man at Curling Castle mentioned. The one he said had jumped from the tower room."

"The ghost he thought had come back to cany out her curse?" Prudence nibbled thoughtfully on her lower lip. "Do you think the deaths of Ringcross and Oxenham have anything to do with the tale that he told us?"

"Perhaps." Sebastian gazed at the ring on his palm. "It's possible that someone who cared about the mysterious Lillian has decided that The Princes of Virtue were responsible for her death."

Prudence stared at him. "Do you think her avenger is going after them one by one?"

"It looks that way."

Prudence's eyes rested on the ring. "Sebastian, you said that your ring is a family ring."

"Rings such as this one have been worn by the Fleetwood men for five generations." Sebastian thought of the day he had received his from his father. He had been told to wear it with pride. His father had explained that it was a symbol of his personal honor.

The opinion of the world does not matter, my son. All that matters is that you know in your heart that you have not stained your honor. Honor is a sacred trust and must be treated as such. A man can survive scandal and ruin and worse if he knows that his honor is safe.

Sebastian tightened his fingers around the ring.

"Do you think it possible that a Fleetwood gave that ring to Lil­lian?" Prudence asked.

"Yes, it's possible." More than possible, Sebastian thought. It was highly probable.

Prudence looked at him. "You're thinking that it was Jeremy's snuffbox we found at Curling Castle, aren't you? You're wondering if that ring also belongs to him."

"Yes."

"But Sebastian, I saw Jeremy earlier this evening. He was not wearing gloves and I seem to recall that he had a ring like that one on his finger."

Sebastian looked at her. "It would not be difficult to have a ring such as this duplicated. Assuming one could afford the cost, it would be a simple matter for a good jeweler to create a copy."

Prudence was silent for a long moment. "What do we do next? Are you going to start interviewing jewelers?"

"No." Sebastian made his decision. "I think that I had better have another talk with my cousin. Jeremy's name has come up once too often in the course of this investigation."

"I agree," Prudence said. "I shall help you conduct the interview."

"I'm not so certain that would be a sound notion, madam."

"It will be very useful to have two opinions of his reactions, don't you agree?"

Sebastian hesitated. He would not mind having her observations on Jeremy. There was no denying Prudence was extremely perceptive.

But it was equally true that she tended to be unpredictable, not to mention softhearted where family was concerned.

"Very well, Prue. You may listen while I talk to Jeremy. But you are not to interfere in any way, is that understood?" Prudence smiled cheerfully. "Perfectly, my lord."

Jeremy was shown into the library at eleven-thirty the next morn­ing. Prudence's heart went out to him the moment he appeared. His resentment at being summarily summoned by the head of the family was obvious.

"What the devil is this all about, Angelstone? I've got better things to do than respond to messages from you."

Sebastian was seated behind the desk near the window. He had Lucifer draped over one arm. He did not bother to rise. "The pleasure is mutual. Perhaps you would care to greet my wife in a civil fashion before you finish telling me what you think of me?"

Jeremy glanced across the room and saw Prudence standing near the tea tray. He turned a dull red. "Lady Angelstone." He inclined his head stiffly. "Your pardon. Didn't see you there. Good morning to you, madam."

"Good morning, Mr. Fleetwood." Prudence smiled. "Would you care for tea?"

Jeremy looked uncomfortable. He glanced at Sebastian. "I don't know if I'll have time."

"You'll have plenty of time to drink a cup of tea," Sebastian as­sured him coldly. "Sit down, cousin."

Jeremy took the teacup from Prudence. "Thank you, madam." He stood waiting until Prudence had seated herself and then he lowered himself uneasily into a chair across from Sebastian.

"Well?" Jeremy inquired brusquely. "Let us get on with it, then. Why did you send for me, sir?"

Sebastian studied him for a long moment. Prudence suspected the silence was a deliberate act of intimidation. She was about to speak up when Sebastian moved. Without a word, he opened the desk drawer, took out the ring he had found in Oxenham's library, and tossed it at Jeremy.

"What in blazes?" Jeremy caught the ring with an angry reflexive action. He glanced down at it.

Prudence could not miss the jolt of surprise that went through Jeremy when he realized what he held in his hand. She glanced at Sebastian and saw that he was watching his cousin very intently. There was no hint of cold amusement in Sebastian's eyes this morning, only an unnervingly alert intelligence that gleamed like fire-heated gold.

"Damnation." Jeremy looked up with an expression of wary confu­sion. "Where the devil did you get this?"

Sebastian stroked Lucifer very slowly. "Do you recognize it?"

"Yes, of course. It's mine." There was a strange edge in Jeremy's voice. "I lost it about three years ago. I never mentioned it because I knew Mother would kick up a fuss. You know how she is about family traditions."

"Yes." Sebastian's hand stilled on Lucifer. "I know."

"Didn't want to overset her by telling her I'd lost the heirloom ring my father had given me. So I had another one made to replace it."

"Who is Lillian?" Sebastian asked softly.

"I have no notion." The teacup rattled in its saucer as Jeremy picked it up.

"Who is Lillian?" Sebastian repeated, his voice lethally soft. Luci­fer twitched his tail.

"I don't know who you're talking about, I tell you," Jeremy said loudly. "I don't know any Lillian." He set the cup down with a crash.

"I think you do," Sebastian said. "You are not leaving here until you tell me who she is."

"Damn you, Angelstone. Who the hell do you think you are?"

"He is the head of the family," Prudence said quickly. She shot a quelling glance at Sebastian, who ignored it. "And he is only trying to help. Isn't that right, Angelstone?"

"The only thing I am attempting to do at the moment," Sebastian said evenly, "is ascertain who Lillian is."

Prudence glared at him. "There is no need to sound so threaten­ing, my lord. We are trying to establish some facts. We don't wish to alarm your cousin."

Sebastian did not take his eyes off Jeremy. Nor did he respond to Prudence's appeal. She gave up trying to control his manners and turned to Jeremy.

"Please understand, Mr. Fleetwood," she said gently. "We are merely seeking to determine why your ring was found in some very unusual circumstances last night."

Jeremy looked at her. "What circumstances?"

"It was found lying next to the body of Lord Oxenham," Sebastian said bluntly. "You wouldn't happen to know how it got there, would you?"

"Body?" Jeremy frowned in confusion. "Oxenham is dead?"

"Very," Sebastian said.

Jeremy's eyes widened slightly. "My ring was nearby?"

"Yes."

"You think I killed him, is that it?" Jeremy's outrage overwhelmed his confusion. "Because someone found my ring near the body?"

"That question did arise." Sebastian's smile was laconic. Lucifer blinked his golden eyes.

Prudence scowled at Sebastian. "Do stop trying to intimidate him, my lord."

"Stay out of this, madam." Sebastian did not glance at her.

She ignored the warning and turned back to Jeremy with a reassur­ing smile. "Mr. Fleetwood, at this point the authorities do not know that your ring was found near Oxenham's body. And we certainly do not intend to tell them, do we, Sebastian?"

"That remains to be seen," Sebastian said coolly.

"But I didn't kill him." Jeremy's desperate glance swung back and forth between Prudence and Sebastian. "I swear it. Why would I kill Oxenham?"

Sebastian rubbed Lucifer's ears. "Perhaps because you think he might have had something to do with Lillian's death?"

"But Lillian's death was an accident. She drowned, for God's sake." Jeremy broke off abruptly as he obviously realized he had just admitted to knowing who Lillian was. He gave Prudence a pleading look. "I was told that she drowned."

Prudence reacted instinctively to Jeremy's pain and bewilderment. She leaned forward and touched his hand in a gesture of comfort. She was aware of the brief anger that flashed in Sebastian's eyes, but he said nothing.

"Who was Lillian, Mr. Fleetwood?" Prudence asked quietly.

Jeremy closed his eyes for a few seconds. When he opened them again, his expression was one of bleak resignation.

"I suppose you may as well know the whole story, although why it has surfaced after all this time defeats me." Jeremy took a steadying sip of tea. When he put down the cup he kept his gaze focused on Prudence. "I loved her."

"Did you?"

"She was the daughter of a prosperous merchant. His only child and the light of his life after his wife died. He saw to it that she was gently reared. She was well educated and her manners were above reproach. She was a lady in every way but for the circumstances of her birth."

"I understand," Prudence whispered.

"I met her sometime after her father had died. She had been left in the care of an aging uncle who consumed her inheritance and forced her to work in his tavern."

Out of the corner of her eye Prudence saw Sebastian open his mouth to ask a question. She silenced him with a tiny motion of her hand. Somewhat to her surprise, he subsided.

"How did you meet Lillian?" Prudence asked.

"At a fair here in town three years ago." Jeremy's mouth curved in a reminiscent smile. "She was eating an ice. I accidentally bumped into her and the ice went all over my coat. It was love at first sight."

"Then what happened?" Prudence asked.

"I started seeing her whenever I could. I knew Mother would never approve, of course. In her eyes Lillian would have been a mere tavern wench, without even a merchant's fortune to make up for her lack of background." Jeremy's mouth hardened. "You must remember that at the time Mother thought I would become the next Earl of Angelstone."

"I think it's safe to say that my aunt would have found a tavern wench totally unacceptable as the next Countess of Angelstone," Se­bastian said dryly. "Almost as unacceptable as an actress."

Jeremy flushed. "If it's any consolation to you, Angelstone, I have often thought that I understood your father's decision to marry the woman he loved. I had made plans to do the same. Regardless of the consequences."

Sebastian narrowed his eyes. "Did you?"

"Yes. I truly loved Lillian. She was a beautiful creature. Gentle and pure." Jeremy sighed. "But she died before we could be wed."

"How tragic," Prudence said.

"I never mentioned her name to Mother or anyone else in the family," Jeremy said. "With Lillian in her grave, there did not seem any reason to do so."

"Who told you she had drowned?" Sebastian asked.

"Her uncle. He said she had gone to stay with a friend in the country for a few days. While she was there she fell into a stream that was in flood after a recent storm. She was swept away and drowned."

"I am so sorry, Mr. Fleetwood," Prudence said quietly. "It must have been terrible for you."

Jeremy looked down at the ring. "The worst part was that I could tell no one of my grief. There was no one who would have understood or approved." He glanced up again. "I have recovered. One does eventually. Lillian is in the past. But I shall never forget her."

Sebastian eyed his cousin. "You gave her that ring?"

Jeremy nodded. "The one I wear is a duplicate. I had it made when I gave Lillian this one. I did not want to have to explain to Mother or the rest of the family why I was no longer wearing the Fleetwood ring. Not until I was ready to announce my marriage."

"You may not have found it necessary to explain the missing ring to the rest of the Fleetwoods," Sebastian said, "but I think you are going to have to explain to me how it wound up in Oxenham's study."

"But I don't know how it got there," Jeremy said quickly. "I swear it. As far as I knew, the ring was lost when Lillian drowned. It oc­curred to me that someone—one of the villagers, perhaps—might have stolen it after finding her body. The ring was, after all, rather valuable. But I knew I had very little chance of recovering it, so I let the matter rest."

Prudence turned to Sebastian. "Perhaps we should talk to her un­cle, the tavern keeper."

"You cannot do that," Jeremy said quietly. "He was taken off by the fever over a year ago. I learned of his death when I happened past the tavern one day and discovered it was being operated by new own­ers."

"So much for that notion," Prudence said, frustrated.

"I do not understand any of this." Jeremy glared at Sebastian. "First you return my snuffbox to me and now my ring. You have practically accused me of murder in both instances. What game are you playing now, Angelstone?"

Sebastian stroked Lucifer in silence for a moment. "Two men have died recently: Ringcross and Oxenham."

"I am aware of that."

"Personal items belonging to you were found in the vicinity of the deaths. This note was also found near Oxenham's body." Sebastian handed Jeremy the note he had discovered.

Jeremy read it quickly. When he glanced up again he appeared more baffled than ever. "What is this about avenging Lillian? What the bloody hell is going on?"

"There would appear to be two possibilities," Sebastian said. "Ei­ther you have decided to avenge Lillian because you believe her death was not an accident, or…"

"Or what?" Prudence demanded before Jeremy could ask the same question.

"Or someone wishes to make it appear that such is the case," Sebastian concluded softly.

"But who would wish to do that?" Prudence asked swiftly.

Sebastian contemplated Lucifer. "The real murderer, perhaps."

Jeremy was clearly staggered. "How do you come to know all this, Angelstone?"

Sebastian gave him a derisive smile. "Rumors have reached me."

"Rumors from where?" Jeremy demanded.

"Bow Street."

"Bow Street" Jeremy was horrified. "Do you mean to tell me that Bow Street is investigating the deaths of Ringcross and Oxenham?"

"Yes," Sebastian said. "Very discreetly, of course."

"But how did you get hold of my snuffbox and ring if they were found at the scenes of the deaths?"

"Let us just say that I have connections both high and low. Some of them are in Bow Street."

"I suppose that does not surprise me," Jeremy muttered. "God knows you have your tentacles everywhere."

"That is certainly one way of putting it," Sebastian agreed. "In any event, one of my tentacles—I mean, one of my connections—is in­volved in the investigation. A certain individual saw fit to let me know that evidence linking you to the deaths has come to light. At the moment this person is content to let me deal with the matter."

"You must pay him very well to keep you informed," Jeremy said bitterly.

"I like to be kept informed," Sebastian said in a neutral tone.

Prudence glanced at Sebastian in brief admiration. He had fi­nessed that issue very nicely, she thought. It was entirely believable that a man in Sebastian's powerful position could have picked up rumors from Bow Street, especially rumors that affected his own fam­ily. It was also reasonable to assume that he could have used his influence to convince someone in authority to turn evidence over to him rather than use it against his cousin.

"The problem," Sebastian continued softly, "is that there may be more deaths. I do not know if I will be able to keep your name out of the matter if that happens."

"Good God." Jeremy stared at Sebastian. "What am I to do? I know nothing about the deaths of Ringcross and Oxenham. If some­one is trying to implicate me, I might eventually be arrested for mur­der. How would I prove my innocence?"

"You must not fret, Mr. Fleetwood." Prudence patted Jeremy's arm. "Angelstone is going to help you, aren't you, Angelstone?"

Sebastian shrugged. "Perhaps."

"Angelstone, what are you saying?" Prudence shot to her feet. "It is grossly unkind of you to torment Mr. Fleetwood in this fashion. I will not have it."

Jeremy stood up abruptly. His hand clenched into a fist. "I suspect your husband is enjoying himself, Lady Angelstone. It occurs to me that if I am taken up for murder, he will have a rather nasty sort of revenge against the family. There is no telling what the shock and scandal would do to my mother."

"Do not say such things, Mr. Fleetwood," Prudence begged. "It is not Angelstone's intent to hurt the family by seeing you arrested for murder."

"No?" Jeremy looked down at her, his eyes a little wild. "In case you do not fully comprehend the sort of man you have married, madam, allow me to tell you that Angelstone hates the rest of us. He would not mind seeing all Fleetwoods ruined."

"That's not true," Prudence said.

"It is true." Jeremy cast a scathing glance at Sebastian. "In fact, now that I consider the matter, I find it more than likely that he is the one behind all this."

"No," Prudence gasped.

Jeremy stared at Sebastian. "Is it you who is doing this to me, Angelstone? Are you trying to get me arrested for murder?"

Sebastian smiled coldly. "If that was my goal I would not have given you the snuffbox and the ring. I would have let Bow Street have them."

"How do I know that?" Jeremy shot back. "Perhaps this is all part of a larger plot. You are like a cat with a mouse, are you not? You intend to amuse yourself for a time by tormenting the rest of us until you grow bored. Then you will end the entertainment once and for all by seeing me hung and the rest of the family disgraced."

Sebastian's mouth curved in cynical amusement. "I congratulate you on your vivid imagination, cousin."

"Stop it, both of you," Prudence ordered. She stepped in front of the desk, placing herself between Jeremy and Sebastian. "That is quite enough theatrics for the morning. Mr. Fleetwood, perhaps it would be best if you took your leave. Try not to worry about being taken up for murder. Angelstone will not permit that to happen."

"Angelstone may not be able to prevent it," Sebastian said very softly.

Prudence rounded on him. "As for you, Angelstone, I demand that you cease trying to terrify your cousin."

Sebastian's eyes glittered. "Why are you always trying to spoil my fun, madam?"

"Not another word," Prudence said through set teeth. She glanced at Jeremy over her shoulder. "Good day, Mr. Fleetwood. I shall see that you are kept informed of events. Please try not to worry. All will be well."

"Not if Angelstone has decided upon some fiendish amusement." Jeremy inclined his head in a rigid gesture of farewell. "Good day, madam. You have my deepest condolences. It cannot be easy being wed to the Fallen Angel."

He walked out of the library without a backward glance.