Dangerous

Chapter Twenty

Sebastian fought for his self-control. The urge to throw himself at Curling in a mindless rage was almost overpowering. The sight of Prudence being held hostage sent a shock of wild anguish through him. He knew such ungoverned emotion would be lethal if he did not master it.

"What do you hope to accomplish, Curling?" Sebastian forced himself to use the bored tone of voice he had perfected so well.

Curling's smile was thin with menace. "You know what I intend to accomplish. Did you really think I would allow you to banish me from England and destroy my fortune?"

"Your fortune?"

"Do not pretend ignorance. You know very well what I'm talking about." Curling's arm tightened around Prudence's throat. "I'm not a fool. I know what will happen to my business affairs if I leave England. The investors will assume that madman, Bloomfield, is in charge. There will be panic. The company will go bankrupt in no time if I am not here to take command."

Sebastian shrugged. "A possibility, I suppose."

"Goddamn it to hell. You know that is exactly what you intended," Curling snarled. "Did you really think I'd let you get away with it? I had everything carefully planned and I am not about to let you ruin those plans."

Garrick stirred on the floor. "This is all my fault, isn't it?"

Curling did not bother to glance at him. He kept his gaze on Sebastian. "You can take some of the credit, if you like. I needed information on Angelstone, you see. Everyone talked about how much he hated the rest of the Fleetwoods, but I was not so certain how deep his hatred went."

"You mean you didn't know if I would use my position to protect my cousin if he were implicated in murder?" Sebastian asked.

"Precisely," Curling said. "I could never figure out why, if you hated your relatives so much, you had not already used your power to crush them."

"You did not comprehend," Prudence said in her most admonish­ing tones, "because you knew that if you had been in Angelstone's position, you would have long since crushed the family."

"Exactly." Curling's eyes were still on Sebastian. "I needed to know more about Angelstone's motives and how he would react if I proceeded to use Jeremy Fleetwood in my scheme."

"So you got me drunk and pried the information out of me," Gar-rick said in a tone of savage self-disgust.

"It was an easy enough task," Curling said. "And extremely re­warding. You assured me that Angelstone would be quite happy to see any one of his relatives rot and that he would probably find it vastly amusing to see one actually taken up for murder. Then you let slip a most fascinating tidbit."

Garrick swore in despair. "I told you about his hobby, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did." Curling smiled slowly. "You told me all about Angelstone's very interesting little hobby, including the name of his Bow Street contact."

"Damnation." Garrick glanced at Sebastian. "I don't remember any of it, Angelstone. I swear to God, I don't. I was drinking so heavily in those days. There's so much I cannot recall from that time."

"I know." Sebastian did not take his attention off Curling. "It makes no matter now."

"I altered my plans accordingly," Curling said. "I decided it would be ideal to have Angelstone actually conduct the investigation. He would be certain to recognize the evidence I intended to use to impli­cate his cousin."

"An interesting precaution," Sebastian said softly. "Bow Street might have overlooked the items found at the scenes of the crimes, or failed to properly identify them. I assume you were also the one re­sponsible for leaving the message in my carriage the night of Ox-enham's death?"

"Of course." Curling frowned. "I wanted you to be the first on the scene so that you could find the evidence against your cousin. I needed young Fleetwood rather badly, you know."

"Because you knew you could not murder your three partners and assume complete control of the company without drawing attention to yourself as a suspect," Sebastian said. "One death, perhaps even two, might have been accepted as accidents. But three deaths would have been hard to explain, especially when you so clearly profited from them. You needed to be able to produce someone else who had a motive to kill those three men."

"Your cousin was perfect," Curling said. "He had a motive which only I knew about but which he would be unable to deny in a court of law. I had planned to reveal everything about Lillian's death, you see. After all, I had nothing to hide. The stupid wench jumped out of a window while I and my friends were having a bit of sport with her."

"You would have testified that my cousin, who was in love with her, discovered the facts surrounding her death years later, blamed The Princes of Virtue, and set out for revenge," Sebastian said.

"Precisely." Curling shrugged. "It would have appeared that I was fated to be his last victim, but fortunately he was caught in time."

"And just to make certain he would look guilty, you provided evi­dence at the scenes of the murders that incriminated him," Prudence concluded, scorn dripping from her words. "Lord Curling, you were very stupid, indeed. You actually thought you could use Angelstone to help you carry out your scheme?"

"It seemed a reasonable assumption."

"Hah." Prudence gave a disdainful sniff. "You know nothing about my husband."

Curling's jaw tightened. "From what I was told and from the gossip that has always followed him, I assumed Angelstcne would be only too happy to use the evidence against his cousin."

Prudence's eyebrows came together in a fierce line above her spec­tacles. "You were much mistaken in my husband's character, weren't you?"

Sebastian saw Curling's arm tighten a little around Prudence's throat. "Uh, Prue—"

"Angelstone knew his duty to his family and he did it," Prudence continued, undaunted.

"Silence," Curling ordered. "You are beginning to annoy me, Lady Angelstone." He used his grip on her throat to give her a warning squeeze.

Sebastian winced.

"You were wrong about Angelstone," Prudence squeaked. "Every­one was wrong about Angelstone."

Sebastian started to worry that Curling would lose his temper and casually choke Prudence to death. "That's enough, Prue."

She blinked at him. Something she saw in his face made her fall silent.

Sebastian arched a brow. "I have been curious about one thing, Curling. How did you come to find out that my cousin cared for Lil­lian?"

"I have known from the beginning." Curling chuckled. "Lillian's uncle told me that the Fleetwood boy fancied himself in love with the girl. But the old man was pragmatic. He knew damn well the Fleet-woods would never allow the precious heir to marry a tavern wench, so he sold her to me instead."

"What did you do after the girl died?" Sebastian asked.

Curling shrugged. "I told her uncle that she had drowned and compensated him for his loss, of course. I gave him enough money to ensure that he would keep any questions he might have had to him­self."

Sebastian folded his arms and leaned against the iron bedpost. "You won't be able to get rid of the three of us tonight without raising a few questions."

"On the contrary," Curling said softly. "This will all work out very nicely, I think. I shall tell everyone that during the course of a small weekend house party here you discovered your new bride in the arms of your best friend."

"How dare you," Prudence gasped, outraged. "I would never be­tray Angelstone."

"I believe I understand, Curling," Sebastian said coolly.

"It's simple enough." Curling looked amused. "You will use a pis­tol on both your wife and your best friend. When I arrive, pistol in hand, to see what is happening, you come at me. I am forced to shoot you dead in order to save my own life. A suitable ending for the Fallen Angel."

"It will never work," Garrick said quickly.

"It will work." Curling leveled the pistol at Sebastian. "Now, then, I am afraid you must be the first to die, Angelstone, because you are the most dangerous. Sutton will go next."

Sebastian readied himself. He would have to launch himself straight at Curling and hope that the first shot went slightly wide. If his luck held, the bullet would not bring him down immediately. All he needed to do, Sebastian thought, was stay on his feet long enough to reach Curling.

"Bastard," Prudence yelped. She clutched the remains of her shat­tered eyeglass. "Don't you dare shoot Sebastian."

Curling smiled. "You might be interested to know that I shall delay your passing until dawn, Lady Angelstone. You see, I have been very curious to know just what sort of female could keep the Fallen Angel amused in bed. Tonight I shall find out."

Sebastian saw Prudence raise her hand upward toward the arm that Curling had wrapped around her throat. He realized what she intended to do.

Prudence raked Curling's arm with the jagged bits of glass that had once been her fashionable eyeglass.

Curling yelled. He instinctively released his grip on Prudence and grabbed at his arm. Blood spurted between his fingers. ‘You little bitch."

Prudence darted out of reach.

Curling swung back to confront Sebastian, but it was too late.

Sebastian was already moving.

Curling tried to bring the pistol back in line, but there was no chance. Sebastian lashed out with his foot and knocked the weapon from Curling's hand.

He went in quickly. He smashed his fist into Curling's jaw. The blow sent Curling staggering back toward the tower windows. They must have been unlatched, because they banged open under the im­pact.

Wind howled into the chamber. The candle flared and went out, plunging the room into almost total darkness. The windows shuddered heavily on their hinges.

Sebastian started forward. There was just enough light to discern the outline of Curling's figure as he crouched in front of the window. The wind screamed into the room.

"No," Prudence shouted above the roar of the wind. "Sebastian, wait. Stay away from him."

It was the shattering sense of urgency in her voice that stopped Sebastian. He glanced back over his shoulder. He could just barely see the pale shape of her face. He realized she was staring past him.

Curling screamed. It was a keening, mind-numbing sound of fear.

"My God," Garrick whispered.

Sebastian whirled around. Curling was still screaming.

"Stay away from me," Curling yelled. But he was not talking to Sebastian. He was looking toward the bed, his hands held out in front of him as if he would ward off whatever he saw there. "No, stay away from me. Stay away from me."

Fascinated dread gripped Sebastian. He watched the dark shape that was Curling edge backward in a crablike fashion until he was pressed against the window ledge.

"It's you," Curling gasped. He climbed up onto the windowsill and stood in the opening. "It's you, isn't it? No, don't touch me. I never intended for you to die. Don't you see? You were the one who chose to jump. You didn't have to do it. I only wanted to have some sport. You were just a tavern wench… Don't touch me."

Curling shrieked and recoiled from something only he could see. He toppled backward through the window and fell into the blackness that was waiting for him.

His scream pierced the night for what seemed an endless time.

Then there was silence. Absolute silence. Even the strange wind that had sprung up out of nowhere suddenly ceased. Outside the win­dow the fog resettled itself like a shroud around Curling Castle.

Sebastian realized that no one, including himself, was moving. He took a deep breath and shook off the paralysis that had held him in thrall. He turned and went swiftly across the chamber. He groped for the candle. It took him two tries before he managed to light it.

When the flame finally flickered into life it was strong and steady. Sebastian turned toward Prudence, expecting to see stunned shock in her eyes.

She was standing in the middle of the room, her brows drawn together in a thoughtful expression. She did not look like a woman who had just seen a ghost.

"Does it strike you, Sebastian, that it is not nearly as cold in here now as it was earlier?" she asked.

He stared at her. "Yes," he heard himself say very softly. "It is much warmer in here now."

Garrick struggled to a sitting position and grimaced with pain. He glanced at the man lying on the floor. "There were three of these villains. All hired from the stews for the night. This one sent the other two back to London after they were paid."

Sebastian hefted the pistol. "Then they will not be a problem for us tonight." He went to the window and looked down. The fog swirled, providing a brief glimpse of Curling's boots on the stones below the tower.

"We'll have to rouse the magistrate," Garrick said.

"Who's going to tell him about Lillian's ghost?" Prudence asked.

"I think we'll leave the ghost out of it," Sebastian said. "I, for one, never actually saw her. And neither did either of you."

"No," Garrick said, sounding relieved. "I never saw anything re­sembling a ghost."

"I'm not so certain of that," Prudence said. A look of speculation appeared in her eyes. "I believe I may have witnessed some significant evidence of spectral phenomena."

"I believe you are mistaken, my dear," Sebastian said. "This is my investigation and I am the one who will discuss it with the magistrate. And I saw no ghost."

Prudence's brows rose. "As you wish, my lord. I cannot help but notice, however, that the curse Lillian placed on The Princes of Virtue has come true. All four of them have been destroyed, one way or another. Even Bloomfield has paid a price for what he did to her."

Sebastian started to argue and then thought better about it. There was no denying that for all intents and purposes, Lillian had been avenged.

It was nearly three in the morning before the explanations had been made to the local magistrate. Mr. Lewell was a large, bluff man who took his duties seriously. He seemed deeply awed at finding him­self dealing with an earl. He asked very few questions, which was just as well because Sebastian had decided to alter a few facts to suit his own purposes.

As he had explained to Prudence and Garrick, there was no reason to drag Jeremy into the matter at this juncture. And no way to prove that the deaths of Ringcross and Oxenham had been anything other than what they had appeared, an accident and a suicide.

"So Curling committed suicide." Lewell shook his head when Se­bastian had concluded the tale. "Well, he was an odd one. There have been rumors of some strange doings up at the castle from time to time."

"Is that so?" Sebastian said politely.

"Aye. Servant gossip, you know; nevertheless, one wondered. There was a young girl who went missing a few years ago. Some said that Curling and his friends had…" Lewell let the sentence trail off into thin air. "Well, that's neither here nor there now. The man is dead."

"Quite dead," Sebastian said.

Lewell nodded sagely. "I regret to tell you that he will not be missed around these parts."

"Because of the strange doings up at the castle?" Sebastian asked.

"Not exactly," Lewell admitted. "Curling, I fear, was in the habit of bringing his fancy friends up from London at every opportunity. Unfortunately for the local shops, he brought his supplies along with him. Claimed he couldn't get good quality in the village. Never spent so much as a penny here."

"I see." Sebastian smiled.

When the interview was over, Garrick opted to spend what re­mained of the night at a nearby inn. "My head hurts too much to even contemplate a carriage ride. I'll make arrangements to return to Town tomorrow. What about you two?"

Prudence patted away a wide yawn. "I could fall asleep right where I stand."

Sebastian looked at her. He wanted to take her home, where he knew she would be safe. He wanted to put her into his bed, where he could hold her so close that nothing, not even a ghost, could take her away from him. He wanted to protect her, shield her, keep her next to his heart for the rest of his life.

"You can sleep in the carriage on the way home," he said quietly.

"Of course, my lord," she said equably.

It did not take Sebastian long to make the arrangements. Half an hour later he and Prudence set off for London in a hired post chaise.

"I do believe the fog is beginning to lift." Prudence yawned deli­cately once more and adjusted the carriage rug over her knees. "We should make good time, Sebastian."

Sebastian put his arm around her and drew her against him. He gazed out into the night. "We shall be home by dawn."

"Very likely. It has all been terribly exciting, but I vow I cannot keep my eyes open another minute." Prudence nestled into the curve of his arm.

"Prue?"

"Umm?" Her voice was thick with impending sleep.

"I wish I could have introduced you to my parents. They would have liked you very much."

"I wish you could have met mine," she whispered. "They would have been most pleased to have you for a son-in-law."

Sebastian struggled to find words for what he wanted to say. He probed warily inside himself, testing the deep, hidden place that had been frozen for so long.

The ice was definitely gone, he realized, but he was still uneasy about looking too closely at the place where it had been. It was like trying to peer through the fog outside the carriage. He was not certain what he would discover. The fear of finding nothing at all where the cold had been made him hesitate.

"I did not take very good care of you tonight, Prue," he said fi­nally. "Things will be different in the future."

She did not respond. Sebastian looked down and saw that her lashes were closed. She was sound asleep. He was left to wonder if she had even heard him.

They made excellent time. When the carriage halted in front of the town house, Sebastian lifted Prudence out and carried her straight upstairs. He put her carefully into the bed. She did not awaken when he got in beside her.

Sebastian gathered her close, and for the first time in four years he fell sound asleep before the first gray light of dawn had appeared.

A month later Sebastian pushed aside a journal of accounts that he had been perusing, stretched out his legs, and leaned back in his chair. Lucifer rose from the back of the sofa, bounded onto the desk, and strolled across a pile of papers. He jumped down into Sebastian's lap.

Sebastian glanced at the ormolu clock as he stroked the cat. "She'll be home any minute now and we shall see what my aunt has done to her."

Lucifer curled his tail around himself and rumbled in response.

"I hope my poor Prudence has survived the experience." Sebastian smiled. "She was certainly dreading it. Put it off as long as she could, you know. But in the end Aunt Drucilla got her."

Lucifer twitched his ears and gave another rumbling purr in re­sponse.

A few minutes later the loud commotion in the hall announced Prudence's return from the shopping expedition.

"Ah, here we are." Sebastian watched the door expectantly. "I'll wager my aunt has done her over in emerald greens and deep yel­lows."

The library door opened abruptly and Prudence rushed into the room. She was still wearing the heavily flounced lavender gown she had left in earlier. Her bonnet, a ridiculously oversized concoction decorated with massive lavender flowers, flopped wildly. Behind the lenses of her spectacles, her eyes were alight with excitement.

"Sebastian, you will never guess what has happened."

Sebastian dumped Lucifer on the floor and rose to greet his wife. "Please be seated, my dear. I am curious to hear all the details of your shopping trip."

"My shopping trip?" She gave him a puzzled look as she perched on a chair.

"Perhaps you will recall it if you try very hard. I believe you left a little more than three hours ago in the company of my aunt." Sebas­tian sat down again. "You were going to be redone from head to toe."

"Oh, yes. The shopping trip." Prudence took off her bonnet and tossed it to one side. "I believe it was quite successful. Your aunt seemed very pleased, at any rate. I hope you like green and yellow because I fear I shall be wearing a great deal of it."

Sebastian smiled.

"But that is not what I wanted to tell you about." Prudence smiled with satisfaction. "I have got us another client, my lord."

Sebastian stopped smiling. "Bloody hell."

"Now, Sebastian, you must not take that attitude. Perhaps I should make it clear that this will be one of my investigations. I shall be looking into a matter involving spectral phenomena. I thought you would enjoy assisting me this time."

Sebastian eyed her warily. "I do not want you taking any risks, madam, and that is final."

"If you are worrying about your heir, you may relax." Prudence patted her still-flat stomach. "I am certain he is made of sturdy stuff. He will take no notice of a ghost or two."

"Now, Prue—"

"Calm yourself, my lord." She smiled serenely. "There will not be any risks at all. This is a matter involving a very old family ghost. Apparently it has been seen of late at the Cranshaws' country house. They would like me to verify whether or not it actually exists."

"And if it does?"

"Why, then, they would like me to find a way to get rid of it.

Apparently it is terrifying the staff. The Cranshaws have been forced to hire three new maids and a new cook in the past two months. That sort of turnover among one's staff is very annoying, Mrs. Cranshaw tells me."

Sebastian heard the anticipation in her voice. He saw it sparkling in her eyes. He was also ruefully aware of the familiar sense of con­trolled excitement bubbling to life deep inside himself. "I suppose there would not be much harm in conducting a small investigation."

"None at all," Prudence agreed cheerfully.

Sebastian got to his feet again and stalked over to the window. "You are quite certain this is merely a matter of spectral phenom­ena?"

"Absolutely certain."

"There is no question of murder, mayhem, or criminal schemes here?"

"Of course not."

"There is absolutely nothing of a dangerous nature involved?" he persisted.

Prudence chuckled indulgently. "Really, Sebastian. It's perfectly ridiculous to even think that this investigation could involve any dan­gerous criminal activity. We are talking about a very old ghost."

"Well," Sebastian said cautiously, "I suppose it will be all right for you to look into the matter. I shall, of course, accompany you. It will give me an opportunity to observe your methods."

"Of course."

He smiled. "It might be somewhat amusing."

"I hoped you might find it so, my lord," Prudence said demurely.

She was laughing at him, he thought. The little baggage had known that he would be as intrigued as she was by the opportunity to investi­gate another interesting puzzle. She knew him too well. Hardly sur­prising, he reflected. She was, after all, the other half of himself.

Sebastian gazed out into the sunlit garden. "I have only one stipu­lation to make before I agree to pursue this investigation with you."

"Yes, my lord?"

"I want you to tell me again that you love me," Sebastian said very quietly.

One could have heard a feather drop in the silence that ensued. Sebastian held his breath. He steeled himself and turned slowly around to face Prudence.

She was on her feet, her hands clasped in front of her. Her eyes were very bright and a little wary. "So you did hear me that night."

"I heard you. But I have not heard you say those words again. Have you changed your mind?"

"No, my lord. I have loved you since the moment I met you. I shall love you all the days of my life." She smiled wistfully. "I did not say the words again because I thought perhaps you found them at best merely amusing."

"Knowing that you love me is not a source of amusement." Sebas­tian realized that his hands were shaking with the force of the emotion that was pouring through him. "It is my salvation."

"Oh, Sebastian." Prudence flew into his arms.

"I love you, Prue." He crushed her close. "Always. Forever."

It was safe, after all, to look into the dark place inside himself that had once been so very cold, Sebastian thought. It was not empty, as he had feared. Love filled the part of him that had been locked in ice for so long.

He held Prudence very close for a long time. Her warmth poured into him, filling him completely.

"There are a few small details about our next investigation that I should perhaps mention," Prudence mumbled at last into his shirt.

"Details?" Sebastian raised his head.

Prudence smiled her most winning smile. "Well, according to my client, there is some question of a diamond necklace that has recently gone missing."

"Diamonds? We're talking about missing diamonds? Now, hold on just one minute, here. It has been my experience that where there is a question of missing jewelry, there is likely to be a question of foul play."

Prudence cleared her throat with a discreet little cough. "Well, apparently there have been one or two indications—small ones, mind you—that someone may have attempted to search the Cranshaws' house."

"Damnation, Prue, I said nothing dangerous this time."

"I'm sure there is nothing in the least bit dangerous about this investigation, my lord. Just some rather intriguing elements that I know will amuse you. I would not wish you to become bored."

Sebastian smiled wryly. "You think you can wrap me around your little finger, don't you, my sweet?"

"Just as you can wrap me around yours." She stood on tiptoe and put her arms about his neck. "I think, my dearest Sebastian, that you and I were meant for each other."

He looked into her glowing eyes and felt the warm fires of love burning inside himself. "There is no question about that."

He threaded his fingers through her hair and covered her mouth with his own. He knew he would never again be cold.