Passionate Secrets (The Secrets Trilogy Book 2) (11 page)

He pushed aside his irritation with his fiancé to focus on his irritation with the woman at his side. “Perhaps you’re going a bit too far with your attempt to meet a man?”

“How so?” She narrowed her eyes as though she couldn’t imagine of what he was speaking.

“I thought you hoped to meet a potential suitor or two.” He eyed the ring of men nearby. “Not gather a flock.”

“I have not done anything wrong,” she whispered.

While he knew her behavior had been circumspect as he hadn’t taken his eyes off her since they’d parted, she had to be doing something to attract this many.

His gaze caught on some of this season’s hopeful debutantes on the other side of the room. Their pale gowns and youthful faces would attract some, but when compared to Emma’s more mature form and the intelligence that radiated from her, he knew with whom he’d prefer to speak. Obviously the men before her felt the same way.

Yet when he scanned the group surrounding them as Emma moved back to stand near then, his irritation returned.

“I understand you haven’t yet had the opportunity to partake of London’s sights. Perhaps you might enjoy seeing one of the museums,” Lord Calverton suggested.

“Oh, that would be—”

“Excellent idea.” Michael made an attempt at a smile as he turned to Emma. “Which day shall we go?”

Her eyes widened. “I thought you were...otherwise
engaged
this week.”

Guilt pricked him at her choice of words. He wasn’t aiding her by escorting her when she could be spending time with a potential suitor. Never mind that he found the idea of her in another man’s company intolerable. In truth, he needed to keep a close eye on her. What if the professor attempted to contact her during an outing?

“My plans have changed.”

Catherine would be displeased to hear he’d be spending more time in Emma’s company, but he told himself he had no choice. With Simmons dead, they had few leads to pursue. In all honesty, he was starting to believe that Emma had no idea her uncle lived. If he hadn’t contacted her in these past ten years, why would he bother to do so now?

But Michael couldn’t put aside the idea that he would. And when he did, Michael had every intention of being there. They needed to know what the professor was up to and why. Heaven forbid if he was still trying to do some terrible experiment with children. Somehow, they needed to find him—before someone else’s life was in danger. Emma had to be the key to that.

~*~

Emma followed the viscountess up the stairs of the townhouse, her mind spinning much like it had while dancing at the ball. The evening had far exceeded her expectations. She’d thought she’d be standing by herself while everyone else visited. Instead she’d danced and taken part in many conversations. With a smile, she remembered Lord Tagart’s kindness, Lord Calverton’s shy smile. They were both nice men, very different from Viscount Weston, but pleasant all the same.

With a sigh, she thought once more of his kiss. Unfortunately, any man she met would be compared against him. It wasn’t fair, but what could she do about it?

Disappointment filled her as she pondered his engagement. In truth, it didn’t matter that he was engaged. How often had she told herself that he was not for her? Nothing had changed. She’d only changed her clothes and her hair, not the person she was on the inside.

She said it again in her mind, more firmly this time.

Not for me.

It failed to help.

“I wonder if I might ask you to read to me for a few minutes,” Viscountess Weston requested as she reached the landing. “I find my mind filled with all the conversation at the ball. Reading seems to allow me to sleep better.”

“I’d like that very much,” Emma said. She truly thought it a good idea. She couldn’t imagine going to sleep right now either.

“Lovely. Why don’t you prepare for bed and then join me in my room.”

Quickly, the maid removed Emma’s gown and corset and loosely braided her hair. By the time Emma knocked on the door of the viscountess’s room, she was sitting up in her bed with a book in her lap.

Emma couldn’t help but glance around the spacious room. It was decorated in various shades of cream with a pale green accent. The effect was cool and relaxing. A tufted chair stood beside the bed and the viscountess gestured her toward it.

“This is such a treat.” She handed Emma the book with a smile.

“I love to read with my family, so this is a pleasure for me as well.” She examined the title, surprised to find it was a popular fiction novel. “I’ve heard this is an exciting story.”

“I hope it’s not too exciting or I shall never sleep.” The smile she gave Emma was much like that of a young girl’s and made Emma smile in return. “Let us try a few pages and see if we care for it.”

Emma settled into the chair and opened the book. Several pages later, she was well engrossed in the story. She paused to glance at the viscountess but couldn’t tell if she was merely resting her eyes or if she was sleeping. She decided to continue to the end of the chapter just so she had a good stopping place. Unfortunately, the author put a clever hook at the end of it. She paused, debating whether she should turn the page.

“Surely, you’re not going to stop reading there?” the viscountess asked, her voice slurred with sleepiness. “Read the next few sentences so we won’t be left wondering if he braves the storm to go after her.”

With a smile, Emma read a few more sentences before pausing again.

“Thank heavens. A hero who didn’t try to protect her would not be worth reading about.” The viscountess opened one eye. “Don’t you agree?”

“Indeed. Though it’s her own fault for running out into the rainy night to begin with.”

“Hmm...true enough. Making silly decisions in the height of emotional drama happens more often than you think.”

“Have you ever done something like that?” Emma immediately regretted the question as soon as she asked it. “I’m sorry. That was inappropriate of me.”

“Nonsense, my dear. If we’re to become friends, we need to know these sorts of things about each other. And yes. I have. Terribly silly decisions. As is still true today, love matches were rare in my day, but I thought I’d found one with George. Shortly before we were to marry, I became convinced he didn’t love me after all.”

“How awful.”

“Indeed. I heard rumors that the reasons he wanted to marry me had more to do with financial matters than me. I was devastated. And like the silly heroine in the book, I left his company in inclement weather.”

Emma held her breath, hoping the viscountess would finish her tale.

“Lucky for me, he followed and convinced me that he loved me and saved me from frostbite.” She chuckled. “That was a night to remember.”

Emma tried to imagine what it would be like to have a man love her enough to come after her in the middle of a storm. Would she have a chance to find a man like that? Or did she need to accept any man who showed interest in her? Would it be enough for her to find one with whom she could be friends?

With a quiet sigh, she closed her eyes for a brief moment. She was afraid she’d already found a man whom she could give her heart to, but he didn’t want it.

Michael stared at Charles Nulty, surprised this soft spoken, timid man could’ve once served as chief warder of Pentonville Prison for so many years. When Ashbury had sent a message this morning asking Michael to accompany him on this meeting, Michael had expected they’d be speaking with a man of some presence, an authority figure.

The man before them was nothing of the sort.

Instead, he was merely a bewildered old man. Michael could feel Ashbury’s frustration mount as Nulty puttered about his drawing room, showing them the collection of small china dogs his wife had accumulated. One at a time.

“This one is a Saint Bernard. Quite an interesting dog, you know.”

“Yes, that’s fascinating, but as I mentioned earlier, we’d like to ask you a few questions about your position at Pentonville Prison.” Ashbury glanced at Michael as though Michael should somehow assist him.

Michael lifted a brow, uncertain as to how he could help the old man stay on the topic at hand. “You were there for many years.” Michael tried a conversational tone, hoping that would relax Nulty.

“Indeed. Many, many years.” He set down the Saint Bernard, adjusted its position, then stared out the window for a long moment.

“We’re wondering if you might remember a prisoner there by the name of Vincent Simmons.”

Nulty turned to stare at Ashbury in surprise. “Do you have any idea how many men went through that prison? How could you think I would remember any of them?”

Michael sighed. He really hadn’t expected the man to recall Simmons.

But Ashbury didn’t seem convinced. “There are two men we’d like to learn more about actually. The other man was Edward Smith.”

The old man hesitated before picking up another figurine, a flicker of something crossing his face.

Ashbury seemed to have caught it as well, for he moved closer to Nulty. “There have been rumors that someone allowed the two men to change places. Smith hung in Simmons’ stead.”

“That would never be permitted.” He set the figurine down, adjusting it to line up precisely with the others.

“No. But you and I both know these things happen.”

Michael feigned interest in another figurine, trailing his finger along the smooth surface. “Smith was said to be dying of consumption anyway.”

Nulty frowned as he glanced at the item Michael touched. “That one is a Talbot hound brought to England by William the Conqueror. Excellent scent hound.”

Michael took a second look at the dog. “I had no idea. Never seen one like it.”

Ashbury glared at him, and Michael cleared his throat, bringing himself back to their inquiry.

“We’ve been told the individual who requested the switch was a man of science.” Michael kept his gaze on Nulty to gauge his reaction.

“Science? What would he want with a prisoner?”

“We’re hoping you could help us with that. Along with the identity of the man.”

Ashbury shifted to stand directly in front of Nulty. “Sometimes, we’re forced to do things we wouldn’t consider doing under normal circumstances.”

“We’re not here to cast blame on anyone,” Michael added, hoping to encourage an answer. “We only want to discover the identity of the person who requested the arrangement.”

“Why does it matter?” Nulty shook his head as he shifted another of the figurines. “That was a long time ago.”

Starting to believe the man remembered more than he was letting on, Michael decided to press him further. “We believe this man has been conducting tests with electromagnetism on children. Lives are at risk.”

“That’s outlandish. I don’t believe you.” Nulty tightened his lips, much like a belligerent child who refused to listen as he picked up another figurine.

“We have no reason to deceive you.”

“If there’s anything you can remember, anything you can tell us, it might save someone’s life.” Michael wanted to throttle the man for being so stubborn.

“Children, you say?” Nulty asked almost reluctantly.

“Who knows what he’ll try next in the name of science,” Ashbury added. “Dogs perhaps?”

Nulty turned to glare at Ashbury, obviously horrified at the prospect. “Surely not.”

“One never knows,” Michael added.

Nulty shook his head and heaved a sigh. “I received a message from someone who called himself ‘the professor’. Said Simmons was his nephew and that he needed his assistance with research he was conducting. He promised to make sure Simmons behaved and changed his ways.”

“Simmons murdered my fiancé’s father, all for the sake of a meteorite.” The cold green of Ashbury’s eyes showed the intensity of his feelings. “Why would you allow him to escape his due punishment?”

“He threatened me,” Nulty protested. “I had no choice.”

“How?”

Nulty shifted as he rubbed his brow. “In the first message, he offered money. I refused. In the next, he advised me that he knew where my family and I lived. He knew my daughter’s name. He named the shop where she worked. The message said if I didn’t do as he asked, he would have her...accosted on the way home one night.” Nulty swallowed hard. “Again I refused.”

Michael watched as the old man struggled with his lingering guilt, something to which Michael could relate.

“Soon after that, two men stopped her on her way home. They tore her dress, struck her, and scared the bloody hell out of her. Another message came the next day, advising me that the next time would be worse.”

“These messages bore the same signature?”

“Aye. All were signed ‘the professor’. No name.” Nulty looked Ashbury in the eye. “Surely you can see that I had to protect my daughter. He left me no choice. Family comes first.”

Ashbury nodded. “Yes. Family comes first.”

“My daughter had to quit work. She was too frightened, even after I had a guard accompany her.”

“At times, it’s difficult to find the line between staying true to your honor and protecting your family.” Michael avoided Ashbury’s gaze as he spoke, not wanting him to read anything more into what Michael said. Those simple words shared far too much of himself.

Nulty pulled at his collar as though it suddenly felt too tight. “I don’t know that I could’ve done anything different than I did at the time. I’ve gone over it many times in my mind and found no other solution.”

“If you remember anything else, please contact us. We need to find this man before he hurts others.”

“A meteorite you said? What of this?” Nulty walked across the room to a table with newssheets on it. He sorted through them until he found what he was looking for and handed it to Michael.

“Murder at the Museum,” Michael read aloud. He glanced at Ashbury to see if he’d already seen the article.

Ashbury shook his head.

“A guard was found murdered at the Museum of Scientific Research for Rocks and Minerals. The murderer escaped with a unique lunar meteorite, one of the largest ever found.” Michael read through the remainder of the article, but learned little else. Still, he intended to add the information to his list.

“Perhaps a trip to the museum is in order,” Ashbury suggested.

Michael nodded. “We’ll have to hurry. It says here that tomorrow they’re moving the meteorite exhibit to a safer location. It might also be time to discover more about the professor’s family tree from Emma. If he had a nephew named Simmons, surely she was aware of him.”

Did he dare ask her? Or would it only alert her to their suspicions?

~*~

Emma breathed deeply, hoping to calm her nerves. The invitation from Viscount Weston this morning to accompany him to a museum had been surprising despite his mention of an outing the previous night. She had to wonder if his fiancé knew of his invitation. Would she be accompanying them as well?

“I hope you enjoy yourself,” Viscountess Weston said as she looked up from the book she was reading as Emma entered the drawing room.

“Are you quite certain you don’t want to join us?”

“I’m afraid rocks and minerals do not hold my interest.”

Emma smiled. “I confess I find them fascinating. Rather unladylike of me, I’m sure, but my uncle took great pleasure in his own collection. We had many enjoyable strolls searching for unusual rocks.” She hesitated to say anything further. Sharing her personal life with others was something she’d stopped doing long ago.

“Your uncle sounds like an interesting man.”

“He was. I miss him still.” She smoothed the soft yellow fabric of her gown. Wearing such lovely gowns each day would take some getting used to. As she donned her gloves, she glanced at the viscountess. “It was very kind of your grandson to offer to take me.”

“Hmm...‘kind’ is not a word often used to describe him.”

“He told me the same thing. I don’t think we’ll be gone overly long. Is there anything you would like me to acquire for you while I’m out?”

“No thank you, dear. You enjoy yourself.”

“Good day to you, ladies,” Michael said as he entered the room. He bent to kiss his grandmother’s cheek.

Something about the sweetness of the gesture and the sincerity of his smile warmed Emma’s heart. He adored his grandmother and didn’t seem to care who knew it.

“How are you today, Miss Grisby?” He turned to her and smiled, but there was a shadow in his eyes she didn’t care for.

“Fine, thank you. And you?”

“Well, thank you. I do think there’s something you should know before we depart for the museum.”

“Oh?”

“There was a guard murdered there two nights ago.”

A shiver seeped down Emma’s spine, partly because of the intense stare Michael gave her as he delivered the unsettling news.

“Is it safe, Michael? I wouldn’t want either of you to be in any danger,” the viscountess said.

“I’m sure the danger has passed. I’d postpone our visit, but the meteorite collection I’m particularly interested in will be removed after today. However, I’ll understand if you’d prefer not to accompany me.”

“Emma, are you certain you feel comfortable?” the viscountess asked.

Viscount Weston looked at her again for a long moment, as if trying to gauge her reaction to the news. Emma raised her brow in response. Did he expect her to faint? To protest their visit?

Yet as he continued to stare, she had to wonder if he somehow thought she was involved in the crime.

Convinced she must be mistaken, she asked, “The murderer has not yet been apprehended?”

“Not thus far.”

“That’s terrible,” the viscountess added. “What did he take?”

“A rather rare lunar meteorite.”

Ignoring the viscount’s odd behavior, Emma pondered the matter. “If it’s so rare, wouldn’t it be difficult to sell without someone recognizing it?”

Viscount Weston nodded.

“If he can’t sell it, what use would he have for it?”

“That’s an excellent question,” he said, his gaze still on her.

Unable to determine why he studied her so closely, she did the only thing she could—ignore him.

The idea of touring a museum where such a tragedy had taken place bothered her, but she realized she trusted Michael to ensure they remained safe. “If you believe it to be secure then I’m happy to go.”

“From what I understand the murderer was after a particular stone and was successful in his quest. I would say he obtained what he wanted and has no need to return.”

“Very well, then. Let us be on our way.” Emma turned to the viscountess. “Are you sure you won’t come with us?”

“I’ll leave all the excitement to you young people. I’m certain you’ll fill me in on the details.”

“Of course,” Emma said with a smile.

“Shall we?” Viscount Weston asked.

Soon they were settled in his carriage, a maid on the seat beside Emma to serve as chaperone. There was no sign of Miss Vandimer and Emma decided not to raise the topic.

The viscount said little as they traveled to the museum, leaving Emma to wonder at his mood. Rather than disturb the silence, she let it be.

The museum appeared to be a former residence, albeit a very large one. Marble pillars set on either side of a massive staircase gave the entrance a sense of grandeur. Emma glanced at Michael, but still he said nothing. She wasn’t sure if they’d traipse through the entire building in silence or if he intended to speak to her.

No matter, she told herself. She was more interested in the exhibits than her companion. She nodded at the footman who assisted her from the carriage and proceeded toward the steps that led to the front door, the maid trailing far behind.

“In a hurry?” The viscount’s voice was so close that it startled her.

“Oh, are you speaking with me now? I’m not certain why you invited me to accompany you if you aren’t going to converse.” She berated herself for stating her opinion. Even the maid who suddenly studied the flowers growing along the path must think her anything but a well-behaved lady.

“My apologies. I have much on my mind.”