Authors: Regina Richards
"May I?" Detective Fielding asked, indicating the place on the sofa next to Elizabeth. He sat down, his expression sympathetic. It reminded Elizabeth of the various doctors over the years who'd delivered bad news about her father, her brothers, and finally her mother. Such carefully practiced solicitude always meant trouble.
The thought of her family made her straighten her spine. She had no reason to fear this man. What could he do to her? Upstairs her mother lay dying. And though Elizabeth herself was experiencing a strange, sporadic reprieve from the symptoms of her disease, she wouldn't lie to herself. She was dying as well. There was nothing Detective Fielding could do to frighten her. Nothing. Except threaten the man she loved and steal whatever time she had left with him.
"Lady Devlin," the detective began, "you understand that a man is dead?"
"Yes, of course."
"And a girl attacked," Lennie added from his post near the door. Detective Fielding wrinkled his brow at his subordinate, but that look of pique was instantly masked by benign solicitude when he looked back at Elizabeth.
"Do you think a person, any person, should be allowed to get away with murder, Lady Devlin?"
"Are you saying Karl Grubner was murdered?" she asked.
"What else?" Fielding's expression remained amiable, but his eyes hardened.
"An animal most likely," Randall spoke from his place near the window. He swallowed the last of his brandy and returned to the decanter.
"An animal no doubt, but we believe one of the two-legged variety," Detective Fielding said. "Lady Devlin, I know this has been a shock for you, but I do need to ask you some questions."
"You'd better wait for Nicholas," Leo said from his chair. "He'll want to be present if you intend to question his wife."
"And if it turns out I need to question her officially, then of course, any husband would want to be present at that sort of encounter," Fielding agreed smoothly. "But surely you don't think I suspect Lady Devlin of anything. She would hardly be capable of over-powering a man the size of Grubner."
"Wait for Nick," Leo said.
The detective kept his eyes on Elizabeth.
"Did you sleep well last night, Lady Devlin?" Fielding asked.
Before Elizabeth could answer, one of the men who'd been with Lennie and Detective Fielding in the stable came into the room. He stayed only long enough to whisper in the burly runner's ear and hand him something.
Elizabeth recognized the book that had been sitting on her dresser that morning. The runners had searched their room. If it was true they didn't suspect her, they must suspect Nicholas.
Elizabeth thought of the ashes in the fireplace, of Nicholas carrying her from her mother's room. He'd been as wet as if he'd taken a dip in a pond. Or a horse trough. She shook her head trying to rid her mind of images of what he might have been trying to wash away. Her husband was not a murderer. Detective Fielding must have thought she was shaking her head in response to his question.
"You didn't sleep well?" Fielding's voice was low, almost coaxing. He leaned in close, too close. "Why?"
Across the room Bergen cleared his throat. The fine hairs on the back of Elizabeth's neck stood up, warning her to be careful about what she said. Nicholas was not capable of murder. She knew that, but the runners didn't. They'd already searched her husband's room. Hardly something one did to the son of a man as powerful as the duke without cause. How much did they know or suspect about last night? And why had that information led them to Nicholas when there had been others out as well?
Elizabeth glanced over at Lennie who still held the book he'd given her last night. As if that were a cue, he advanced and placed the worn leather volume in Fielding's outstretched hand.
"Did you find this book interesting, Lady Devlin? Frightening perhaps?"
"I'm not familiar with that book. Mr. Hodges," she nodded toward Lennie, "gave it to me last night when I went to check on Margaret. But I never opened it."
"Too bad," the detective said. "If you'd read it, you might not have put yourself into such a dangerous situation."
Elizabeth's stomach twisted. What did the runners know? Because of her visit to Margaret, they knew she had been up in the middle of the night. And the mistake she'd made in the stable when she'd thought it was Jimmy who'd been killed would lead them to question the boy, if they hadn't already. They'd know she'd visited the stables looking for her husband and that he and his stallion had been gone. If Jimmy had still been waiting up when Nicholas returned, her husband would be in the clear. But from the way the detective was behaving, Elizabeth could guess that had not been the case. Had old Grubner sent the boy to bed and waited to tend to the stallion himself?
At the castle last night she'd recognized Lennie by his footman's livery, but it'd been too dark to see his face. Could he have seen hers? Or perhaps recognized her voice? Elizabeth's mind raced, trying to remember if she'd revealed herself in some damning way. She needed to speak to Nicholas, needed to know what she should and shouldn't say to these men. She glanced at the door again.
"Did you have a chance to read the title, Lady Devlin, before you went out to the stables searching for your husband?"
"No," Elizabeth said. There was no point in denying she'd been in the stables. Jimmy could confirm it.
"
Vampires of Northern Europe.
" Detective Fielding paused as if expecting some reaction from her. When he got none, he opened the book and poked a finger at the fading print on one yellowed page. He read aloud.
"These creatures of darkness, so oft misunderstood, differ in only subtle ways from their brothers of the daylight. Whilst they must and do feed on the blood of others, the quantities they require are small and not missed by the humans who sustain them."
The detective snapped the book shut causing Elizabeth, who'd been leaning forward, to startle back. "I think Grubner and Margaret would disagree with the author, don't you?"
"Vampires? At Heaven's Edge?" Elizabeth was pleased with the incredulous tone she achieved. If Detective Fielding wanted to play games, then play games they would. "What a fanciful notion for a man in your line of work. Shall we have the woods searched for werewolves as well? And ghosts. Surely in a place as old as this there must be at least one or two decent ghosts."
Across the room one corner of Bergen's mouth twitched.
"Not a
true
vampire, of course." The detective's solicitous attitude was gone; his voice was now as hard as his eyes. "For over four months we've been tracking a criminal who appears charming and quite normal, but is in fact a madman who uses the disgusting guise of vampirism to murder his victims. Is that the sort of man you wish to share a…roof with, Lady Devlin?"
Elizabeth licked her lips. She did not, would not, believe Nicholas was a killer. If these lawmen had accused anyone else of such crimes, even the Duke of Marlbourne himself, she'd have felt bound to tell them all that had gone on last night. But she would say nothing that might put her husband under suspicion.
Nicholas had not been the only one to leave the house last night. Leo and Amanda had been out. Lucy and her mysterious companion had also left, as had the duke. And, judging by the welts, scratches and bruises on every man in the room save Detective Fielding and Dr. Bergen, so had many others. Her eyes strayed to Randall.
No, her husband wasn't the only suspect.
Elizabeth rearranged her skirts, trying not to think of the puncture wounds concealed beneath, or of how suspiciously similar they were to the ones on Margaret and, from what she'd overheard in the stable, on Grubner as well. There had to be another explanation. It wasn't Nicholas. It couldn't be. Detective Fielding was watching her too closely, causing Elizabeth to feel suddenly hot and cold at once.
"Your wedding ring is a ruby, isn't it, Lady Devlin? And not just any ruby, a blood ruby." The detective lifted Elizabeth's hand. The ruby glittered in the morning light. When she pulled her hand away, the detective began flipping through the book again.
"Let's see. Yes, here it is." He traced a finger down the page as he read. "
Throughout the world there are many different clans or sects of vampire folk, each with its own culture and traditions, its own gifts and weaknesses. Even among European vampires there are a multitude of different groups. These clans are so closed, so secretive, that occasionally they intermingle in the non-vampire world without even realizing they are doing so
.
Centuries ago great feuds would erupt between groups, often over a misunderstanding or unintended slight. Both vampire and non-vampire alike suffered in these bloody confrontations. One cause of such feuds was the accepted practice in certain clans of vampires taking human females for brides. This was probably done to serve financial, social, or reproductive needs."
Fielding glanced at Elizabeth. She kept her expression neutral. Fielding carefully turned a fragile page and read on.
"Imagine the anger of a vampire who learns a member of another clan has dined on his wife, mistress, or other beloved human. Or worse, administered the three unique bites necessary to change the human consort into a vampire, effectively stealing the consort from the original vampire clan by making her a member of another. Probably as a way to prevent wars from breaking out between clans, over time vampires developed a tradition of marking their human consorts with blood rubies."
The detective coughed discretely into one hand. He directed a half-smile at Elizabeth, then dropped his eyes significantly to her hand. Elizabeth imagined the ruby glittering like a bloodstain against the dove gray of her dress. She willed herself not to cover her wedding ring with her hand, or even look at it. All eyes in the room were on her, gauging her reaction. She returned the detective's half-smile with an insipid smile of her own. He cleared his throat.
"Let's see now, where was I? Ah, yes, here.
A human bride might wear a blood red wedding ring, a mistress a necklace or bracelet. Perhaps a ruby stickpin would become part of the daily uniform of an old family retainer. The wearers might or might not be told the significance of the jewelry, depending on whether they were privy to their master's true nature."
Fielding paused as if to catch his breath.
Elizabeth couldn't stop herself from scanning the room, searching for gems. Randall wore none. Dr. Bergen caught her eye and gave her a mocking look as he held up bare fingers for her inspection. The only ruby in the room, besides her own, was the one gleaming like fresh blood in the pinky ring on Leo's hand. He was staring at it himself, along with the rest of the room. He shook his head.
"Nonsense," Leo said. "A gift from a friend, but not a vampire friend I assure you."
Fielding read on.
"Do not be fooled. Everyone who wears a ruby in a vampire's household is not human. In the last several hundred years, the wearing of blood rubies has become popular among vampires themselves. Thus there is no guarantee that the family retainer with the ruby stickpin is human. He may be as much a vampire as his master. Still the message of the ruby is the same. It warns off others of their kind, letting them know the wearer is not fair game."
Unbidden, a vision of the strange wedding in the chapel at Maidenstone filled Elizabeth's mind. She saw clearly that moment at the end of the ceremony when Nicholas had turned her to face the cloaked and cowled guests and held her hand high, displaying the ruby to all those present. She remembered their low murmur of ascent before they'd left the church in silence. Once again Fielding snapped the leather book closed. Wrenched from her frightening memory, Elizabeth made a small cry of distress.
"Poorly done, detective," Bergen said quietly. "It isn't necessary to frighten her like that."
Fielding changed the subject abruptly.
"Did you leave Heaven's Edge last night, Lady Devlin? When Jimmy met you in the stable and told you your husband had left on his stallion, did you follow him into the woods?" Fielding held up a cautionary hand. "Think before you answer. Lennie followed a cloaked figure to the castle ruins last night. Later he had, er, reason to find himself beneath the moat bridge. A woman was standing on the bridge above him. Were you that woman, Lady Devlin?"
"Detective Fielding, that is outside of enough!" Leo sat forward in his chair. "Neither Lord Devlin nor his father, the duke, will be pleased with your--"
"Do you own a blue dress with white lace at the hem, Lady Devlin?" The detective was leaning in too close, his voice overloud.
Elizabeth's mind spun. She'd told Jimmy she was returning to the house. Had he seen her go into the forest instead? What had he told the runners? The man in the doorway of the castle last night, wearing the duke's livery, had been Lennie. He'd fired on the creatures pursuing her and probably saved her life. Had he also seen her face? She'd never worn that blue dress before last night so the only persons who knew she'd owned such a garment were Katie, who'd unpacked it, and her husband, who'd purchased it. If she answered yes, how would she explain that it was gone -- nothing but ashes in her bedroom fireplace? If she said no, would they be able to prove she was lying and would that hurt Nicholas?
"Well?" Fielding pressed.
Elizabeth stood and crossed the room to the bell pull. Lennie was there before her, cutting her off. She gave him her best imitation of one of the Countess of Glenbury's imperious glares. It worked. He hesitated long enough for her to step past him and give the bell cord a tug. She heard its faint clang in the hall outside as she faced the men.
"I have been a bride for such a short time, perhaps I'll feel differently in twenty years." She gave Detective Fielding an apologetic look. "But for now, I desire to please both my husband and my new father-in-law. So I'll take Leo's advice and allow these questions to wait. In the meantime, I suggest we all," she included the runners in her invitation with a smile, "have breakfast."