Josephine
It was just going on five o'clock when Hero drove the sleek carriage through the gates of the large park. Perched next to him, dressed in her new blue carriage gown with its matching hat, Josephine reminded herself for the thousandth time that she was merely a paid companion who had been employed to perform a part. But deep down she could not resist the temptation to pretend for just a little while that the play had become reality and that Hero had invited her to drive with him because he wanted to be with her.
The scene spread out before she was lively and colourful. The spring afternoon was sunny and warm and, as was the custom in town, many in the Polite World had come to the park to see and be seen.
The tops of many of the vehicles had been lowered to better display the elegantly dressed passengers. Several gentlemen rode exquisitely turned-out mounts on a neighbouring path. They paused frequently to greet those in the carriages, exchange gossip and flirt with the ladies. Couples who took a turn around the park together were, in fact, announcing to Society that marriage plans had either been arranged or were being seriously considered.
Josephine was not surprised to discover that Hero handled the reins the way he did everything else, with a smooth, efficient skill and quiet authority. The beautifully matched, well-schooled greys responded instantly to his touch.
"I located Watt in a livery stable," Hero said.
"Was he able to tell you any details concerning your great-uncle's death?"
"Watt said that on the day of the murder, he and Uncle George spent the better part of the afternoon working on some experiments in the laboratory. After the evening meal, George retired to his bedchamber upstairs. Watt went to bed, too. His bedchamber is located downstairs, near the laboratory."
"Did he hear anything that night?"
Hero nodded grimly. "Watt said he was sound asleep but was jolted into wakefulness by some odd noises and what he thought was a muffled cry from inside the laboratory."
"He went to investigate?"
"Yes. It was not uncommon for Uncle George to go back into his laboratory late at night to check on the results of an experiment or make notes in his journal. Watt feared that he had had some mishap. But the door of the laboratory was locked. Watt had to retrieve a key from his bedside table. While he was doing so, he heard two pistol shots."
"Dear heaven. Did he see the killer?"
"No. By the time he got into the laboratory, the villain had fled through a window."
"What of your great-uncle?"
"Watt found him on the floor, dying in a pool of blood."
Josephine shuddered at the thought of that scene. "How dreadful."
"Uncle George was still partially conscious. He mumbled some words before he died. Watt said that they made no sense to him. He assumed that George was experiencing some strange hallucination brought on by the mortal injury."
"Did Watt recall what he said?'
"Yes," Hero said evenly. "According to him, my great-uncle's dying words were meant for me. George said, Tell Hero that Mercury is still alive."
Josephine caught her breath. "Then you are right, sir, this does concern your great-uncle's old companions and those strange red stones."
"Yes. But I have been proceeding on the assumption that Mercury was dead." His mouth twisted. "I ought to have known better than to arrive at any conclusions without proof."
She studied the tight brackets at the corners of his mouth. Her earlier irritation evaporated. "Tell me, my lord, are you always so quick to shoulder all of the responsibility when things go wrong?"
He gave her a quick, frowning glance. "What sort of question is that? I assume the responsibility that is mine."
"And then some, I think." She noticed that two expensively garbed ladies in a passing carriage were watching her and Hero with the avid expressions of a pair of cats eyeing potential prey. Quite deliberately she angled her dainty parasol to block their view. "It has become clear to me in the short time that I have known you that you are far too accustomed to the dictates of duty. You accept whatever obligations are thrust upon your shoulders as though they were your lot in life."
"Perhaps that is because responsibility is my lot in life," he said dryly. "I control a considerable fortune, and I am the head of a very large family. In addition to any number of relatives, a great many tenants, farmers, servants and labourers depend upon me in one way or another. Given that situation, I do not see how I can escape the demands of duty."
"I did not mean to imply that you should attempt to evade your obligations," she said quickly.
He was amused. "I am pleased to know that you did not intend any criticism because my intuition tells me that you and I have a great deal in common when it comes to the manner in which we feel the weight of our responsibilities."
"Oh, I hardly think-"
"Take, for example, the way in which you rushed to Sally's rescue today. There was no need to get involved."
"Rubbish. You know very well that one cannot listen to such vile threats and remain silent."
"Some people could have done so without a qualm, telling themselves that they had no responsibility in the matter." He drew in the reins slightly. "I think we are also alike in other ways as well, Miss Langford."
"What do you mean?" she asked, wary now.
He shrugged. "Having interrupted that scene between Zach and Sally, you could have surrendered to Zach's blackmail in order to protect your position in the household."
"Nonsense."
"There was, after all, a fair amount of money at stake. Triple your wages plus a bonus. Even split in half with an extortionist, that is far more than you can expect to make in a year's employment as a companion elsewhere."
"One cannot give in to extortion." She adjusted the parasol. "You know very well that had you been in my shoes, you certainly would not have done so."
He merely smiled, as though she had proved his point for him.
She frowned. "Oh. I see what you mean. Perhaps we do share some character traits. But that was not quite what I meant."
"What did you mean, Miss Langford?"
"I believe that what I am trying to describe may have more to do with your excessive sense of self-mastery. Your notions of what is right and proper for you to do. I believe you may demand more of yourself than is strictly necessary if you see what I mean."
"No. I don't see what you mean, Miss Langford."
Exasperated, she moved the parasol in a somewhat random manner. "Let me put it this way, my lord. What do you do to make yourself happy?"
There was a short, stark silence.
Josephine held her breath, wondering if he thought that she had overstepped her bounds as an employee yet again. She braced herself for an icy set down.
Then she noticed the twitch at the corner of his mouth.
"Is this a polite way of informing me that l am not particularly charming, witty, clever or amusing?" he asked. "If so, you could have saved your breath. Others have already made that observation."
"I once loved a man who was charming, witty, clever and amusing," she said. "He claimed to love me in return. In the end, he proved to be a faithless liar and a coldhearted fortune hunter. As a result, I am not very keen on the charming, witty, clever and amusing sort."
He slanted her an enigmatic sidelong glance. "Is that a fact?"
"It is," she assured him.
"He was a fortune hunter, you say?"
"Oh, yes. Not that I had a great fortune to be hunted compared to yours, my lord." She could not repress a little wistful sigh. "Still, it was a rather nice house and some excellent land that, when properly managed, produced a tidy profit."
"Who managed it? Your father?"
"No. My father died when I was an infant. I never knew him. My mother and my grandmother managed the land and the household. I learned the skills from them. The property was to be my inheritance. My mother eventually remarried, but my stepfather was only interested in the income that came from the farm."
"What did he do with the money?"
"He fancied himself a skilled investor. But he generally lost more than he made. His last financial venture involved a certain mine in Yorkshire."
Heroʼs jaw tightened. "I recall that project. If it is the one I am thinking of, it was a swindle from the outset."
"Yes. Well, unfortunately, my stepfather lost everything in it and the shock brought on a fatal fit of apoplexy. I was left to deal with his creditors. They took everything." She paused. "Or, almost everything."
He made a minute adjustment to the reins. "And your fortune hunter? What became of him? Did he simply disappear?"
"Oh, no. He showed up almost immediately, having received word that I was no longer due to inherit. He promptly ended our engagement. Two months later I learned that he had run off with a young lady from Bath whose father had settled a great deal of money and some very nice jewels on her."
"I see."
There was a short silence during which she became acutely aware of the muffled thud of the horses' hooves, the clatter of carriage wheels and the sounds of voices drifting across the park.
She suddenly realized that she had said far more than she had intended about her personal affairs. They had started out discussing a murder. What in heaven's name had led her to this subject?
"My apologies, sir," she muttered. "I certainly did not mean to bore you with my personal history. It is an exceedingly dreary topic."
"You said that your stepfather's creditors got almost everything?" Hero asked, sounding curious.
"On the day I was confronted with the creditors, things were a bit hectic, as you can imagine. I was obliged to pack my personal things under the eye of the Runner who had been brought along to oversee the eviction. I used my grandmother's trunk, the one she had acquired in her acting days. It had a false bottom."
"Ah." A small smile flickered at the corner of his mouth. "I begin to see where this is going. What did you manage to smuggle out of the house, Miss Langford?"
"Just the items that I had hidden in the trunk: my grandmother's gold and pearl brooch, a pair of earrings and twenty pounds."
"Very clever of you."
She wrinkled her nose. "Not nearly as clever as I had hoped to be. Do you have any idea how little the pawn dealers will give one for a perfectly lovely brooch and a pair of earrings? Only a few pounds. I managed to get myself to London and find a post through Goodhew and Willis, but I assure you, there was very little leftover."
"I understand."
She squared her shoulders and adjusted the parasol again. "Enough of that depressing topic. Let us return to the matter of your investigation. How do you intend to proceed?"
He did not respond immediately. She got the impression that he wanted to continue discussing her deplorable financial situation.
But he flexed his gloved hands on the reins, sending a subtle signal to the greys, and returned to the subject of his great-uncle's murder.
"I've been thinking about that problem," he said. "I believe my next step will be to try to locate the third member of the Society of the Stones, the one who called himself Saturn. In addition, I think it might be a good idea to keep a close watch on Zach."
"Zach?" She was startled. "Why is that? You assured me that he could do us no harm."
"I am not concerned with any gossip about your position that he might attempt to spread," Hero explained. "But I would be very interested to know if anyone attempts to contact him now that he is no longer employed in my household."
"Why would anyone do that?"
Hero looked at her. "If I were a killer who was trying to remain hidden, I would be extremely curious to know if someone from my victim's family was making inquiries and, if so, whether or not I was a suspect. Who better to interview than a disgruntled servant?"
She was impressed. "That is a brilliant notion, my lord."
He grimaced. "I'm not sure that it qualifies as brilliant, but I do feel that it should be considered. It is possible that Zach overheard more than a conversation concerning your status as a paid employee."
She suddenly understood. "We talked about John Watt and your investigation last night in the library. Yes, of course. Zach may well know that you are hunting a killer."
He nodded. "If someone were to contact Zach, I could assume that he is the murderer and that he may be anxious or curious to know what is happening in Rain Street."
"Presumably no one else would bother to talk to a dismissed butler," she agreed. "But how will you arrange for Zach to be watched night and day?"
"I have been considering that question. I could use street lads, although they are not always dependable. The alternative is a Runner. But many of them are no more reliable than the street boys. In addition, it is common knowledge that they can be easily bribed."
She hesitated, recalling her one and only experience with a Runner. "If you elect to go to Bow Street, there is one man there you might find trustworthy. His name is Hitchins."
Before Hero could question her about Hitchins, a man mounted on a handsome, prancing bay came alongside the carriage. Josephine glanced at him, absently noting the excellence of the horse and the polish on the rider's gleaming boots.
She started to look away, and then the shock of recognition slammed through her.
Impossible, she thought. It couldn't be him. With a gathering sense of dread, she raised her gaze to the gentleman's handsome features.
She found him staring at her, equally stunned.
"Josephine," Jeremy Clyde said. His eyes lit up with the smouldering warmth that had once made her pulse race. "It is you. I thought I must have been mistaken when I noticed a familiar-looking lady in this carriage. What a pleasure to see you again, my dear."
"Good day, Mr. Clyde. I understand that you were wed several months ago." She gave her most wintry smile. "Please accept my congratulations. Is your wife here in town with you?"
Jeremy seemed slightly disconcerted by the direction of her conversation. She got the impression that he had forgotten that he had a wife. She thanked the fates that she had not married this man. If she had, she would no doubt have found herself in the position of being the inconvenient spouse whom Jeremy had trouble recalling to mind.
"Yes, of course, she is here," Jeremy said, evidently recovering his memory. "We have taken a house for the Season. Jo, I had no notion that you were in town. How long will you be staying?"
Hero glanced briefly at him and then looked at Josephine. "An acquaintance of yours, my dear?"
"I beg your pardon." Flustered at having forgotten her manners, she pulled herself together and quickly made the introductions.
Jeremy inclined his head politely in acknowledgement, but Josephine noticed the flash of astonishment in his eyes when he realized whom he was meeting. He had not recognized Hero by sight, which was hardly surprising, Josephine thought since the two men had never moved in the same circles. But Jeremy certainly recognized the name and the title.
Amusement bubbled through her, suppressing her initial dismay. The sight of his discarded fiancée sitting intimately close to one of the most mysterious and most powerful men of the ton had clearly flummoxed Jeremy.
But even as she watched his face, she could see his confusion and surprise transforming into cunning speculation. Jeremy was already trying to think of a way in which he could turn her connection to Hero to some advantage.
Why had she not noticed this side of him while he had been wooing her? Now that the scales had fallen from her eyes, she could only wonder what it was that had once attracted her to him.
"How do you come to be acquainted with my fiancée, Clyde?" Hero asked in the dangerously casual manner that Josephine was learning to recognize.
Jeremy's face went as blank as a sheet of foolscap.
"Fiancée?" he repeated. He sounded as though the word had caused him to choke. "You are engaged to Jo, sir? But that's impossible. I don't understand. It cannot be-"
"You did not answer my question," Hero cut in, wheeling the greys around another vehicle. "How do you come to be acquainted with my fiancée?"
"We are, uh, old friends." Jeremy was obliged to urge his mount to a swifter pace in order to keep up with the carriage.
"I see." Hero nodded as if that explained everything. "You must be the fortune hunter, the one who ended his engagement to Josephine when he discovered that she had lost her inheritance. Ran off with a young heiress instead, I understand. Now that was a piece of very shrewd business on your part."
Jeremy stiffened. His anger must have transmitted itself directly through the reins because his high-strung mount reacted with a nervous toss of the head and began to dance anxiously about on the path.
"Obviously, Jo has given you a very distorted version of events," Jeremy said, yanking fiercely on the reins. "I assure you our relationship did not end because of the disastrous state of her finances." He paused meaningfully. "Unfortunately, there were other reasons involving Miss Langford's private affairs that obliged me to end our connection."
The dark hints that she had compromised herself with another man left Josephine so furious she could hardly breathe.
"What other reasons?" Hero asked, for all the world as though he had entirely missed the subtle implications of Jeremy's words.
"I suggest you ask Miss Langford." Jeremy struggled with the reins of his sidestepping, head-tossing mount. "After all, a gentleman does not discuss a lady's intimate affairs, does he?"
"Not if he wishes to avoid a dawn appointment," Hero agreed.
At the sound of those unambiguous words, several heads swivelled instantly toward the carriage. Josephine realized that she and Hero and Jeremy were suddenly the focus of every member of society who happened to be in the vicinity. It was rather like being caught in the fierce heat of a burning lens.
Jeremy's jaw dropped. Josephine did not blame him. She was almost certain that her own mouth had fallen open as well.
She could scarcely believe what she had just heard. Hero had threatened Jeremy with a duel.
"Now, see here, sir, I don't know what-" Jeremy broke off to jerk violently on the reins of his agitated horse.
The additional insult was too much for the beast. It reared wildly, hooves flailing.
Jeremy lost his balance and began an inevitable slide to one side. He fought frantically to regain his seat, but when the horse took off at full gallop, he had no chance. He fell hard on the path, landing on his rear.
Feminine giggles and raucous masculine laughter emanated from passing carriages and riders nearby who had witnessed the debacle.
Hero ignored the entire scene. He tweaked the reins and the greys moved out in a snapping trot.
Josephine looked back over her shoulder and watched Jeremy pick himself up, dust off his rump and stalk away across the grass. The one glimpse she got of his flushed face was sufficient to send a shudder through her. Jeremy was furious.
She turned around quickly and sat, gazing straight ahead, clinging tensely to her parasol. "I apologize for that unfortunate scene," she said tightly. "I was caught by surprise. I certainly never expected to find myself face-to-face with Jeremy here in London."
Hero guided the horses toward the gates. "I believe we shall go home now. Thanks to Clyde, we have achieved our purpose. Our presence here in the park this afternoon was most certainly noted and will no doubt be remarked upon at length this evening in every ballroom in town."
"No doubt." She swallowed and glanced at him quickly, uncertain of his mood. "It is generous of you to take such a positive view of the situation."
"My good nature has some limitations," he said. "I will expect you to keep your distance from Clyde."
"Of course," she said, appalled that he would think that she might want to have anything to do with Jeremy. "I assure you, I have no wish to speak to him again."
"I believe you. But he may well try to presume on your previous association."
She frowned. "I do not see how."
"As you yourself noted, Clyde is nothing if not an opportunist. He may convince himself that he can find a way to turn his acquaintance with you to his advantage."
She was hurt that he thought for even a moment that she needed to be warned. "I promise you, I will be careful."
"I would appreciate that. This situation has already become complicated enough as it is."
Her heart sank. He was certainly not pleased, she thought. And why should he be, come to that? The incident with Jeremy was the second complication in which she had been involved that day.
If she found herself connected to any more irksome problems, Hero might well conclude that she was more trouble than she was worth.
Judging from his pensive, brooding expression, she suspected that he was thinking similar thoughts.
Concluding that it would be a very good idea to change the subject, she seized upon the first one that came to mind.
"I must compliment you on your excellent acting talents, my lord," she said with an approving air. "Your implied threat to issue a challenge to Jeremy should he spread unpleasant gossip about me was extremely convincing."
"Do you think so?"
"Yes, indeed. It was only a single line, but you delivered it in a most gripping manner, my lord. Just the right degree of cool understatement, if I may say so. Why your words even sent a shudder through me."
"It remains to be seen if Clyde was similarly affected," Hero said thoughtfully.
"I'm certain that he was." She chuckled. "For a moment, you actually had me persuaded. I vow, had I not known that you were merely acting a part in this play we are staging, I would have sworn that you meant every word you said."
He gave her a curious look. "What makes you think that I didn't mean exactly what I said?"
"Really, sir, you are teasing me," she said.
They both knew that he had not meant that threat, she thought. After all, If Hero had not bothered to pursue his real betrothed when she had run off with another man, he was hardly likely to engage in a duel over the honour of an imitation fiancée.
It was only much later, when she was going upstairs to her bed-chamber, that she remembered that Hero had never answered her question: He had not told her what he did to make himself happy.