Mistress

CHAPTER TWENTY

THE NEWS THAT DODGSON SLITHERED OUT OF TOWN shortly after dark went unremarked by virtually everyone except Amelia. She wept with relief.

The truly riveting news, as far as the Polite World was concerned, was the engagement of the Earl of Masters to his notorious mistress, Mrs. Bright.

Word of the betrothal and the plans for a speedy marriage by special license flew through the ton. The curious and the amazed as well as a number of genuine well wishers lay in wait at every point along the park paths that afternoon.

Perched boldly atop the high scat of Marcus's sleek black phaeton, Iphiginia met stare after stare with a cool smile and a regal inclination of her head. She and Marcus dealt with the comments and veiled questions with bland civility.

That evening the inquisition began anew at every hall and soiree.

Herbert came up to Iphiginia at the Binghams' ball. "Cannot blame them, Y'know," he said, slanting a glance at two turbaned matrons who had just finished quizzing Iphiginia. "Word of your engagement took Society by surprise. I confess, I was rather startled, m'self."

"So was I." Iphiginia smiled at Herbert, relieved to see a friendly face. Zoe and Otis had disappeared a few minutes ago and Marcus, who had been helping her deal with the curious, had gone off to fetch some champagne.

Herbert gave her a kind, supportive smile, but his dear, normally cheerful gaze was troubled. "No offense, but are you certain you know what you're doing? I realize that Masters is rich and there is the title. But marriage is a very serious proposition."

"I assure you, I am aware of that."

"Speaking as your friend, one who knows you infinitely better than Masters does, I beseech you to give the matter more consideration before you take any irrevocable steps. There are rumors that you intend to wed by special license. Surely you can wait before you rush into this?"

Iphiginia looked at him in surprise. "What makes you think you know me better than Masters does?"

Herbert gazed out over the crowded room. "I have felt that way from the beginning, Iphiginia. You and I have much in common. More than you realize. In a way, I believe that we are two of a kind."

"I know that you wish to be a good friend to me and I very much appreciate it." Iphiginia touched his sleeve. "But you must not concern yourself on my behalf. I know what I'm doing."

"Do you?" Herbert looked at her. "I hope you are right, m'dear. I shall miss you."

"Miss me?"

"I fear that once you are wed to Masters, I shall see a great deal less of you."

"Mr. Hoyt, you are acting as though I am about to be locked away in a convent."

"A harem, I believe, would be a better description," Marcus said from just behind Iphiginia's left shoulder.

She turned quickly to smile at him. "There you are, my lord. I did not see you return from the buffet table."

"I know." Marcus thrust a glass of champagne into her fingers, but his gaze rested on Herbert. "You were deep in conversation with your good friend Mr. Hoyt."

Herbert inclined his head in a stiff nod. "'Evening, Masters. I was merely giving Mrs. Bright my best wishes on her forthcoming marriage."

"Thank you, Herbert," Iphiginia said gently. "My pleasure." Herbert took her gloved hand in his and kissed the back of it. "Whatever happens, Mrs. Bright, I want you to know that I shall treasure the friendship we have shared."

Marcus took Iphiginia's arm. "I think it's time we moved along to the Andersons . It's nearly midnight and we are expected to put in an appearance."

"Yes, of course." Iphiginia gave Herbert a farewell smile and allowed herself to he led away through the crowd.

"I grow increasingly weary of stumbling over Hoyt in order to get to you," Marcus said.

"I regret that he annoys you, but he is my friend, Marcus. I am quite fond of him." Iphiginia gave Marcus a repressive glance as he led her down the steps to the waiting carriage. "I expect you to be polite to my friends after we are married."

"Of course, my dear," Marcus said with uncharacteristic and rather suspect meekness.

Iphiginia scowled at him. "What was that nonsense about locking me away in a harem?"

"A harem of one, my sweet. I assure you that you will be the only occupant."

"That sounds interesting," Iphiginia said. "It certainly struck me that way."

Iphiginia was exhausted by the time Marcus finally escorted her home at three in the morning. The town house was quiet, Amelia and the staff having long since retired to bed. Marcus and Iphiginia went quietly across the hall and walked into the shadowed library.

Marcus closed the door, loosened his cravat, and lit the candle on Iphiginia's desk.

"Good heavens, what an exhausting evening." Iphiginia stripped off her white kid gloves and flopped into the chair behind her desk. Her white sarcanet and satin skirts fluttered around her. "One would have thought you had announced your intention to marry a female who possessed two heads. I have never seen so many curious eyes or beard so many gasps of amazement."

"The worst is over." "I certainly hope so." Iphiginia frowned at her white skirts. "The first thing I am going to do after our marriage is purchase some new gowns. I am dreadfully bored with white."

"It served its purpose." Marcus helped himself to a small glass of brandy.

"I suppose it did." "It was an extremely daring and rather shrewd notion.

"Thank you, my lord. I was rather pleased with the notion myself." Iphiginia tried to summon up a casual smile.

In truth she felt anything but calm tonight. The enormity of the step she was about to take was having a deeply unsettling effect on her nerves.

Teach me to break this rule, too. Had Marcus really meant that he was willing to learn how to love again? Iphiginia wondered. Or had he offered her the challenge, knowing that she would be unable to resist?

He could be so bloody clever, she thought. "Speaking of our marriage," Marcus said.

"Yes?" Iphiginia watched as he began to prowl the room, brandy glass in one hand.

Marcus paused in front of a statue of Aphrodite. "I intend to procure a special license in the morning. We can he married tomorrow afternoon."

Iphiginia caught her breath. "So soon?"

He looked at her over his shoulder, his intelligent gaze shuttered and brooding. "There is no need to delay the event, is there?"

It dawned on Iphiginia that, in his own way, Marcus was as ill at case as she was tonight. How odd that, having been through so much together, they should suddenly find themselves nervous around each other.

"No," she said.

Marcus nodded once, satisfied. "I shall make the arrangements."

"Very well."

Marcus took a swallow of brandy and moved on to study the statue of the Roman centurion. "I thought we managed quite nicely this evening."

"People are amazed that you are going to marry your mistress, you know."

"You are not my mistress." Marcus set his glass down on a nearby table. "You are my fiancee. The gossip will vanish once we are wed."

Iphiginia glanced at the copy of Illustrations of Classical Antiquities on her desk. "Are you certain?"

"Quite." Marcus sounded without any humor. "Marriage fixes everything, you see."

Iphiginia recalled the circumstances of Marcus's first marriage and winced. "Yes."

"It silences scandal before it can flower. It renders titillating gossip of an affair into extremely dull tea conversation. In short, Iphiginia, once we are married, we shall become a very boring subject so far as Society is concerned."

Iphiginia gazed at him very steadily. "Is that the reason you wish to marry me, sir? I would sooner return to Deepford than he wed in order to silence the threat of scandal."

"No," Marcus said. "It is not why I wish to marry you. I wish to marry you because you are the only woman I know who can keep me from becoming a clockwork man.

«Marcus.» Iphiginia was shocked at the analogy. "You cannot mean that."

"But I do mean it." He hesitated, as though gathering himself to jump off a cliff into a rolling sea. "I need you to keep me from becoming a victim of my own rules, Iphiginia."

Iphiginia felt the talons of his deeply buried torment as though it were her own flesh they pierced. She knew. without a trace of doubt what his admission had cost him.

Another rule broken, no doubt, she thought. She got to her feet and went around the corner of her desk. She stepped into his arms and framed his hard face with her hands.

"Marcus, pay close attention. You are in no danger of becoming an automaton. You are a warm, passionate man with extremely refined sensibilities."

"Do you think so?" The dark intensity vanished from his voice. He grinned briefly. "Well, in that case, it would probably be best not to delay our marriage. I'm not at all certain my refined sensibilities could withstand the strain of waiting."

"No." Iphiginia stood on tiptoe to brush her lips against his faintly curved mouth. "We would not want to stifle your warm, passionate nature any longer than necessary."

"Or yours." Marcus folded her into an unshakable hold and kissed her thoroughly.

He deepened the kiss until Iphiginia sighed softly and went limp in his arms.

"I love you, Marcus," she murmured against his throat.

She was not certain he had heard her, but when he raised his head a moment later, his eyes were the color of ancient amber. "I shall come for you at three tomorrow. I trust you will be ready."

Iphiginia smiled. "Should I wear white?" "You may wear whatever you wish." Marcus moved reluctantly away from her to scoop his hat up off her desk. "Or nothing at all. Good night, Iphiginia. I shall look forward to tomorrow night. Do you realize that it will be the first time we will be able to make love in a bed?"

"How very convenient should you suffer another collapse after the event, my lord."

"Adam will he coming by again today at five O'clock to take me for a drive in the park," Amelia announced at breakfast the following morning. "What do you think I should wear, Iphiginia?"

Iphiginia frowned over the gossip column in the morning paper. The article she had been reading featured a very recognizable "Mrs. B" and an equally obvious "Lord M." The news of the impending nuptials had been related in arch prose.

The Polite World is agog this morning to learn that Lord M. has reportedly broken his most infamous rule .

"What did you say, Amelia?"

"I said, will you help me select something to wear for a drive in the park this afternoon?"

Iphiginia looked up and saw the hopeful anticipation in her cousin's eyes. She smiled.

"You and I are very near the same size," Iphiginia said. "You shall wear my saffron yellow walking gown and the pale yellow pelisse that goes with it. The color will be perfect on you."

Amelia's eyes widened. "But you have not yet had an opportunity to wear that gown and pelisse yourself."

"It is yours with my blessings." Iphiginia refolded the newspaper and set it aside.

"Very kind." "Think nothing of it. We must both go shopping as soon as possible. You need some brighter gowns and I am weary of white."

"It is very becoming on you." "Thank you, but white attire grows exceedingly dull after a while. I do not know why the ancients favored it." Iphiginia paused. "You look very happy, Amelia."

"I am happy." Amelia smiled slowly, as though surprised by the fact. "Do you know, I have not felt this… this unburdened in years. To think that I was always terrified of coming face-to-face with Dodgson again. Yet when it actually happened, I experienced nothing but acute loathing and disgust."

"And rightfully so. It was extremely satisfying to see his expression yesterday when he learned that you had the power to deny him entry into the investment pool."

"Do you think that it is wrong of me to take such satisfaction from my revenge?"

"Don't be ridiculous. You exacted retribution and justice. You are entitled to a sense of satisfaction."

"Adam says that Dodgson will probably not he able to recover from his recent financial reverses," Amelia confided. "Apparently he is too far under the hatches to crawl back out on his own."

"I shall certainly not waste any sympathy on him. And I cannot tell you how delighted I am to know that you care for Mr. Manwaring. He has been attracted to you since the moment you met, you know."

I "I think I did know. I always felt a certain warmth toward him. But for some reason I could not allow myself to admit it. Then, yesterday, after I confronted Dodgson and watched him go down in defeat, I suddenly felt free to turn to Adam." Amelia smiled. "Oh, Iphiginia, I do feel glorious today."

"Excellent. Then you can help me deal with what I believe may be an extremely nasty case of wedding nerves.

"Nerves? You? Iphiginia, are you telling me you are anxious about this marriage to Masters?"

"Yes, I believe I am. Remind me to take a vinaigrette with me to the preacher's this afternoon. I would hate to humiliate myself by fainting at Masters's feet."

"I am astounded. I do not know what to say. You always seem so certain of yourself. I have never known you to suffer from nerves."

"I have never been married," Iphiginia reminded her. She smiled wryly. "But Marcus has. If I am anxious, only think what he must be going through."

Half an hour later, feeling restless and more anxious than ever, Iphiginia wandered into her library with the intention of distracting herself.

She sat down behind her desk, opened a drawer, and removed several sheets of foolscap. She closed the drawer and reached for her pen.

Inspiration did not strike. She took up a penknife and fiddled with the nib of her quill for a while. Then she put down the pen and contemplated several pieces of the statuary she had brought back with her from Italy.

It was no use. All she could think about was how her life was about to he irrevocably changed by a special license.

Teach me to break that rule, too, Iphiginia. Marcus had as much as asked her to teach him how to love again. She had been so certain that she could do it.

But what if she was wrong? Iphiginia got to her feet and started around her desk with no particular goal. She just felt the need to move.

The copy of Illustrations of Classical Antiquities caught her eye. Having nothing better to do, she picked it up to place it back in its proper place on a library shelf.

Idly she thumbed through it, seeking favorite scenes. The tiny blob of black wax was stuck to page two hundred and three. It had obviously been dropped onto the volume by accident. It had dried there and gone undiscovered.

Iphiginia stared at the small bit of wax for a long time. Someone who knows everything and everyone in Society.

Then, at last, inspiration finally did strike.

"You're certain of these facts, Barclay?" Marcus sat forward behind his desk and forced himself to be patient. Sound scientific investigation had to be done carefully and thoroughly. He must not allow emotion and enthusiasm to rush him into a false conclusion.

He had allowed Iphiginia. to persuade him to abandon a few of the rules which had governed his personal life until recently. That did not mean he had abandoned the sound, sensible rules of scientific experimentation.

Nevertheless, Marcus could feel the familiar thrill of discovery and satisfaction welling up inside. It all made perfect sense, he thought. It was logical. With this bit of information all the rest of the pieces began to fall into place.

He could not wait to tell Iphiginia. "Yes, yes, quite certain." Barclay shuffled his papers and peered at his notes through his spectacles. "The original Dr. Hardstaff, whose real name was William Burn, sold his premises to the same individual who built the sepulchral monument in Reeding Cemetery. That man's name is H. H. Eaton."

"And he is the son of the Elizabeth Eaton who is buried in that monument?"

"Yes." Barclay looked up. "He appears to have dropped his last name when he entered Society two years ago. That was why it took me so long, to discover his connection. indeed, if you had not suggested that I look into the ownership of the museum, I would never have gotten to the bottom of the thing."

A knock on the library door got Marcus's attention. He glanced toward it with an impatient frown. "Enter."

Lovelace opened the door. Iphiginia, dressed in a white morning gown and a flower-trimmed chip straw bonnet, bobbed up and down behind him.,

"Mrs. Bright to see you, sir," Lovelace said, just as though Iphiginia were not waving madly to get Marcus's attention.

Marcus grinned. "Send her in, Lovelace."

Lovelace stepped aside. Iphiginia rushed past him into the library. She was carrying a massive leather-bound volume.

"Marcus, you will never believe what has happened. I think I know the identity of the blackmailer. I found a bit of black wax on this book that I lent to-"

"Herbert Hoyt?" Marcus asked politely.

"Good Lord." Iphiginia came to a halt and gazed at him in astonishment. "How did you guess?"

"I never guess, my dear. I form scientific hypotheses."

It was quite dark in the narrow alley. There was barely enough moonlight to see the rear window of Number Two Thurley Street. Marcus hefted the length of iron in his hand and fitted it cautiously between the window and the sill.

"Be careful," Iphiginia whispered. She glanced back down the length of the alley to be certain they were still alone.

"I am being careful." "Marcus, are you annoyed?" "Oddly enough, I had not planned to spend my wedding night breaking into Hoyt's lodgings." Marcus pried the window open with a judicious jerk of the iron bar. The frame gave with gratifying case. "I had envisioned more interesting entertainment."

"Hurry." Iphiginia pushed back the hood of her cloak. The unlit brass lantern she carried gleamed in the moonlight. "I am certain that we shall find the black sealing wax and the phoenix seal somewhere in his rooms.

"his is a complete waste of time." Marcus swung one leg over the sill. "We already know that he's the blackmailer."

"But we need proof. The wax and seal give us solid evidence."

Marcus swung his other leg over the ill and dropped into the shadowed room. "We are not doing this to obtain evidence. We are doing it solely because you want to prove to me that your hypothesis was as sound as mine."

"It is sound. I know that I would eventually have found the blackmailer on my own." Iphiginia caught up the hem of her cloak and her skirts in one hand and put a stocking-clad leg over the edge of the sill.

Marcus wistfully contemplated the graceful limb and thought about how it would look tangled in the white sheets of his massive bed.

Later, he promised himself Iphiginia was his, that was the important thing. He could relax. She had belonged to him since they had exchanged vows earlier that day in front of a preacher.

She was his wife. Satisfaction surged deep inside as he caught her by the waist and lifted her through the window. Offhand he could not think of any other female who would have demanded to spend her wedding night rummaging through a blackmailer's desk, but Iphiginia was nothing if not an Original.

Marcus had concluded that he could afford to indulge her now that he was certain of possessing her.

In truth, he had not been particularly keen on the scheme to search Hoyt's lodgings, but Marcus had convinced himself that the plan was not unduly risky. Hoyt, after all, was a creature of Society. He was out until dawn every night. His servant, Marcus had learned, had formed the habit of spending the evenings at a tavern.

"Close the curtains," Iphiginia ordered softly as she Et the lantern.

Marcus obligingly drew the curtains. He turned to survey the room by the light of Iphiginia's lantern. It was.a comfortable chamber, quite suited to a single gentleman of modest means. There was a desk in one corner and a row of bookcases along one wall. A wingback chair stood before the cold hearth. The table next to it held a half empty bottle of brandy and a glass.

"Hoyt does not appear to have invested his ill-gotten gains in his living quarters," Marcus observed.

"No, but he orders his coats from Weston and he recently purchased his own carriage. You know what that costs." Iphiginia explored the desk quickly. "And there is that budding he purchased from the original Dr. Hardstaff. That must have cost a great deal."

"And that monument he built in Reeding Cemetery." Marcus opened a drawer in a bureau and saw a stack of freshly laundered and starched cravats.

"It is difficult to credit that a man who is nasty enough to commit murder and blackmail would be the sort to build such a striking memorial to his mother." Iphiginia sucked in her breath. "Ah-bah."

"What does ah-bah mean?" "It means that the desk is unlocked." Iphiginia began rummaging around in the top drawer.

Marcus moved across the room. "I hate to intention the obvious, but if the desk is not locked, it is no doubt because there is nothing of any great import inside."

"Nonsense. One cannot conclude that. It simply means that Herbert does not consider the wax and seal dangerous.»

"Then he is not quite as intelligent as I had assumed." Marcus frowned as Iphiginia opened the wax jack.

"Red wax," she said, disappointed. "But perhaps there is another wax jack about somewhere. And the seal must be here, too."

But after twenty minutes of diligent searching, neither black wax nor the phoenix seal came to light.

"I do not understand it." Iphiginia stood in the center of the room and tapped her toe in evident frustration. "They must he here."

"Not necessarily." Marcus was impatient to he gone. It was all very well to indulge one's bride, he thought, but enough was enough. "He may keep them on his person or in a safe that we have not discovered. There are any number of places where one could conceal items as small as a wax jack and seal."

"I know where he would keep such items." Iphiginia's eyes widened with excitement. "Dr, Hardstaff's Museum of the Goddesses of Manly Vigor."

Marcus groaned. "I really don't believe that there is much point searching the museum. What if one of Dr. Hardstaff's patients is receiving a treatment?"

"It is certainly worth a try." Iphiginia turned down the lantern and started toward the window. "Don't dawdle, Marcus. We do not have all night, you know."

"Thank God." Marcus glanced quickly around the shadowed room, making certain that they had not left any obvious sign of intrusion. "I would very much like to spend some portion of this night in bed."

Iphiginia scooped up her cloak and skirts and put one leg over the windowsill. "Must you grumble? We have the rest of our lives to spend in bed."

Marcus cheered at the notion. Ale rest of his life with Iphiginia.

The alley behind Number Nineteen Lamb Lane was as shadowed and empty that night as it had been the other evening. The stairs that led up to the back door squeaked and sighed beneath Marcus's weight. He climbed them ahead of Iphiginia, treading warily.

For some reason he felt now a sense of unease that he had not been aware of earlier in the alley behind the Thurcy Street lodgings.

Marcus reached the landing and tried the door. It opened easily, just as it had the other night. The fine hairs on the back of his neck stirred.

"Marcus?" Iphiginia paused on the step and looked "Is something wrong?"

"Stay here. I'll go in first." Marcus removed his coat and slung it over his shoulder. The night air came straight through the fine lawn of his shirt, but he paid no attention. He had a sudden wish to feel less encumbered. "Let me have the lantern."

"But Marcus."

"Wait here, Iphiginia. I mean it."

To his infinite relief, she obeyed. Marcus lit the lantern and moved into the darkened hall.

The corridor was eerily silent. Apparently none of the Goddesses of Manly Vigor was giving a performance this evening. Marcus went down the hall to the chamber that contained the bed and the stage.

He opened the door cautiously.

The interior lay in deep shadow. The light from the lantern revealed the torn transparency curtain in front of the stage. It had not been repaired since Sands had ripped it from the ceiling hooks.

"Do you see anything?" Iphiginia asked softly from the doorway.

Marcus spun around. "Damn it, Iphiginia, I told you to wait outside."

The scrape of a boot on the wooden floor of the hall sent a cold chill through him. I

"Iphiginia, move." Marcus put the lantern down and launched himself toward the door.

He was too late.

A man's arm came out of the shadows from behind Iphiginia and caught her by the throat. Iphiginia gave a soft shriek that was cut off almost immediately.

"Not another step, Masters." Herbert held Iphiginia in front of him as a shield as he moved into the chamber. The lantern light glinted on the barrel of the pistol in his hand. "Or I will shoot you."

"Let her go, Hoyt." Marcus came to a halt. He took a reluctant step back and stopped next to the lantern. "This has all gone far enough. It must end tonight."

"I agree." Herbert smiled bitterly. "But as I have written most of the other scenes of this play, I will write the ending. I fancy something melodramatic that will make an interesting tidbit for the ton. What do you think about having the notorious Lady Masters kill her husband when she discovers him at Dr. Hardstaff's Museum on their wedding night?"

"Not another step, Masters." Herbert held Iphiginia in front of him as a shield as he moved into the chair. The lantern light glinted on the barrel of the pistol in his hand. "Or I will shoot you."

"Let her go, Hoyt." Marcus came to a halt. He took reluctant step back and stopped next to the lantern.

"This has all gone far enough. It must end tonight."

"I agree." Herbert smiled bitterly. "But as I written most of the other scenes of this play, I will write the ending. I fancy something melodramatic that make an interesting tidbit for the ton. What do you about having the notorious Lady Masters kill her husband when she discovers him at Dr. Hardstaff's Museum their wedding night?"