Dangerous Diana (Brambridge Novel 3) (17 page)

“What are you going to do now?” Melissa folded and refolded the paper in her hands. Surely Hades hadn’t done this to her?

“I’m afraid that we will need to take you away and try you for masquerading as an apothecary without the relevant license.”

Melissa looked down at the crumpled Act in her hands again. “I refuse,” she said slowly, planting her feet firmly on the floor. “I refuse on the grounds that the Act is only three months old. That does not give anyone time to complete even the six month’s minimum apprenticeship to come up to the bill’s standards.”

The fat man’s smile widened. “And how are you going to stop us?”

“We will.”

Melissa turned and stared at the crowd of people that filled the dark hallway, headed by Mrs. Hobbs and the large butcher from Bayswater High Street. He looked determined, but refused to meet Melissa in the eye. His apprentices stood behind him, large meat cleavers hanging loosely from their hands, and their aprons were still stained with blood.

“You told me what he did, Miss Sumner, and I’ve just had a chat to his Mum. She said he owed you a favor and I’ve just called it in!” Mrs. Hobbs called cheerfully above the crowd.

The fat man edged round the table, his smile nowhere to be seen as the first two tall, menacing young men with sharp knives stepped into the kitchen.

“I say,” he began. But soon the crowd enveloped both of the Society of Apothecaries men, jostling them to the door, forcing them over the glass of the distillation equipment and unceremoniously pushing them into their carriage.

The tall man pulled the door of the dour black carriage sharply shut and sought out Melissa with his eyes over the baying crowd. “We’ll be back for you,” he mouthed. Melissa trembled as he drew his head in and the carriage left with a jolt.

“Do you consider the debt repaid?” the butcher asked her, as his apprentices chased the carriage down the street. He sighed with relief as Melissa nodded silently. “For what it is worth,” he continued unexpectedly, “your remedies work, and it would be worth you pursuing your business.”

He turned on one heel and marched off down the street, following his men back towards the high street.

“Good grief.” Melissa sank onto the doorstep as the trembling stopped. “I can’t start over again, not another time.” She buried her head in her hands. “I’m sorry but I—I’m not sure what to do next.”

“I do,” Mr. Hobbs said grimly. “You need to disappear again for a few days.”

CHAPTER 19

Hades pressed his ring heavily into the warm wax sealing the note and waited for the image of a lion to set. Peeling the note away from his ring, he handed it quickly to Carter.

“Send this at once to Bayswater. Make sure Miss Sumner gets the note. If not, give it to Mr. or Mrs. Hobbs.”

Carter nodded at him knowingly and winked. Hades clenched his quill and cursed as he broke yet another nib. It had been the same way since his mother had left; all of the household staff looked moonstruck.

I don’t love her,
he wanted to howl like Arturo.
I don’t know what love is
. Was love the reason that he wanted to devour Melissa from her head to her toes every time that he saw her? Was it love that he thought about her every few moments and hoped that she was safe? That he found himself gazing longingly at the leather-bound armchair in his study and hadn’t once sat in it since she left? He dropped the broken quill to the table and scratched at his head. He had even found himself sniffing the head of the chair where she had let her scented hair rest against the cushion. For God’s sake, he could still smell the lavender.

Pulling the pieces of parchment he had ruined with blots of ink off the desk, he opened one of its lower drawers and shoved the fragile rolls in, catching the edges on the torn paper of the parcel of books that he still hadn’t taken out of the desk.

If only she didn’t seemingly want
everything
from him. It was lucky that he was leaving for Brambridge in Devon. He had to get away. Perhaps the Viper would follow him, and there was still the Dutch man that Henry had mentioned that was coming in with Renard to buy the secrets that the Viper was selling. Henry sighed as he slammed the drawer back in place. And if all else failed there was the elusive Mr. Trump to visit,
and
the books to read that he still hadn’t unpacked from his saddle-bag from weeks before.

It took him two days in his own carriage to reach Honiton, the main coaching station close to Brambridge. It was a good place to stop for an early midday meal. The main street was lined with coaching inns interspersed with small shops selling lace from the surrounding area. His coachman and tiger were grateful for the stop as he had barely allowed them any rest in the preceding forty-eight hours.

A short walk took Hades along the bustling main road towards a quiet church which backed on to an orphanage. Opposite the church stood a smaller than average inn, called the Whale, that was much less busy than the others but which Henry had recommended for a pie and a pint of ale. Ducking inside the low doorway, Hades was pleasantly surprised by the airy atmosphere within, with a large taproom, and private room beyond.

He was even more surprised to see Freddie holed up in the corner of the tap room, a foaming jug of beer in front of him, his leg outstretched on the bench.

“Freddie. Freddie?” he said again as the man twitched but didn’t look at him. Pushing his way past the empty tables and chairs, Hades bent down in front of Freddie. Lines of pain were etched across the man’s face, and his eyes were half closed. Concerned, Hades sat down opposite him and tapped him lightly on the shoulder.

“Are you awake?”

“Hello, Hades.” Freddie opened his eyes with effort and shifted his foot on the stool to give more room to Hades.

Hades shook his head and carefully pushed Freddie’s foot back into position. “What are you doing here?” He nodded to the barmaid, who poured him a tankard of beer.

“Lady Colchester and old Anglethorpe twisted my arm to come down to Devon. A small party they said.” Freddie grimaced. “It can’t be that small if you’re here too.”

Hades nodded. What was Henry and his canny sister up to? “I didn’t know it was a house party. I’m here to see someone about the Viper.”

Freddie snorted and took a long sip of his ale. “Wild goose chase I’ll bet. The Viper seems to play things close to his chest. From what I’ve heard, he seems to know things a long time in advance of everyone else.”

Hades took a sip of his beer. It was true. But he was hoping that this time the man would come after him personally. After his ‘stomp the grass’ ploy, he hoped that the villain had been sent off kilter. His enemy, though, was wily and highly intelligent. He set the tankard carefully down on the table. At least he would be focusing his attentions now on Hades, and not on Melissa.

“How are you getting down to Brambridge?” Freddie reached out for his own tankard and drew it shakily towards him.

“I’ve brought my own carriage. It seemed a safer bet than my horse.”

“Hmm, I agree.” Freddie nodded to his leg. “I thought I was better, but the continuous riding seems to have set something off again. Either that or it was Martha at the Pink Canary Club…”

Hades snorted. The man was incorrigible. Why didn’t he just admit that he needed help?

Freddie grinned, the lines on his face smoothing away. “I’ll have to wait till it’s better before I can get down to Brambridge. They’ve said they’ve got some rooms here which I’ll take advantage of. And the barmaid is rather attractive…”

“Why don’t you come in my carriage?” Hades tipped back on his chair.

“Oh, I really couldn’t…”

Hades looked up sharply. Freddie sounded nervous, almost as if he didn’t want to go to Brambridge. But that was his to decide. Hades looked out of the open inn door as Freddie mumbled. A sweep of black hair and a silver glint caught his eye. He blinked, and it was gone.
Melissa, here in Devon
? It was one of the rare moments when he hadn’t been thinking about her. He rubbed his head tiredly. Had his mind been playing tricks on him?

“Well, I…”

“Hold on Freddie, back in a minute.” Hades stepped quickly to the Inn door and looked out, but he had been too slow. There were no longer any women walking down that side of the high street, and all the doors were closed on the cottages surrounding the inn.

He drew back into the inn and passed a hand quickly across his brow again. Perhaps he too was sickening for something. He sat back down with a thump and took a long draught of his beer.

“You need to be careful with that stuff,” Freddie said ruefully, pointing unsteadily at his nearly empty tankard. “Believe me, I know.”

Hades looked away. He was aware of the incident in Brambridge where Freddie had been so inebriated that he had lost his senses in the face of a luscious French spy. Granwich had told him; amongst their circle of War Office colleagues one had to know where each other’s pressure points were. But despite the empty tankard it seemed as if Freddie was sober enough today. Damn it, it was one of the reasons he had been so angry at the ball where he had first met Diana… no, Melissa. He’d just had words with Freddie who’d told him in no uncertain terms that what had had happened in Burgos stayed in Burgos; that it had had no impact on his behavior in Brambridge. That it was just
bad
luck.

He looked down at where his knuckles gripped at the handle of his tankard. White showed across the lines in his skin. And then he had been captured by a sly beauty that wouldn’t speak, who could only stare mistily at him and say one word… Diana
.

There he went again. Melissa was in his head. He banged his tankard on the table and started to eat steadily through the pie that had arrived whilst he had been outside. The tension in his fingers eased as he stabbed his fork into the steaming potatoes and hot cabbage that surrounded the game pie. Henry was right. This was indeed was the inn to eat at. As he ate his first real meal for a couple of months, he sighed as his stomach stretched. Perhaps he could persuade Charles and Carlos to cook something similar. Their cooking was still as erratic as ever.

The two men ate in silence for the next ten minutes. Hades was keen to leave when he had finished. The barmaid did not bother them, arriving only to take their plates away at the end of the meal.

“I will come with you.” Freddie wiped his face on a large napkin. “Thank you.”

Hades nodded. It didn’t make much difference to him one way or another. “My coach is at the Crown Inn. We’ll have to walk there. Can you manage?”

Freddie nodded. “I have my stick. I’ll cope.” With a set face, he set his upheld leg on the floor and pulled himself to his feet.

“Have you had the leg looked at?” Hades started towards the bar. There were many reasons why people drank, physical pain often being one of them.

“Many times.” Freddie pulled his cane from the seat behind him and set it on the floor. With a few slow steps, he was soon at the door of the inn and onto the pavement.

“How much?” Hades asked the barmaid.

The barmaid looked him up and down with a lascivious glint in her eye, “Five shillings, sir,” she said sweetly, flashing her teeth.

Hades drew the money out of his pocket, frowning. It would only cover one meal. “Are you sure that is enough?”

“Oh, the other cove paid beforehand.” The barmaid shrugged her shoulders, her dress slipping downwards exposing a white shoulder. “He said he wanted to limit himself.”

Hades nodded and backed away from the bar. Swiveling quickly on one heel, he strode to join Freddie on the pavement.

“I thought she was going to eat you up,” Freddie remarked dryly. “How do you do it?”

Hades grunted. He didn’t know himself. But it didn’t help him now. Thrusting his hands into his coat pockets, he jerked his head in the direction of his coach. He shouldn’t have sent Melissa a note. He should have gone to see her himself, taken her away…

The Crown Inn was only a short walk up the street, but still it was slow going. Impatiently, Hades matched his stride to Freddie’s limp. He could hear Freddie’s labored breathing hitching each time his injured leg hit the floor. At a nod from Hades, his coach man and tiger hoisted Freddie into the coach without a word. They were not surprised to see that Hades had an extra guest with him. His war work had meant meeting many unsavory characters at any time of day.

“Much obliged,” Freddie muttered as Hades leapt into the coach. He lay back against the coach seat and closed his eyes again. “Of course my butler, valet, whatever Willson would have done the same if he was here… but he’s not.”

“Thank God.”

“I’ll have you know he’s very knowledgeable on Meissen pottery.”

Hades banged on the top of the coach with a laugh. Willson was an ex-soldier and knew how to dispatch a man with the unlikeliest of instruments. He was also said to be the keeper of Freddie’s secrets.

Freddie opened his eyes and squirmed slightly and then poked around at the cushions on the sprung seats behind him. Wordlessly he pulled out the saddlebags that Hades had tossed in at the last moment. “A little light reading, old boy? Thought you’d left all that at home.”

Hades feigned a laugh and tossed the bags underneath the seats, wincing as the books clunked to the floor. He sat back and folded his arms as the coach started moving; the coachman had already collected directions to Berale House where Henry had his country residence. Henry was well known in the area, as a fair land owner and the long suffering neighbor of the Stanton lands that ran alongside his that were now owned by Bill Standish, the illegitimate son of the old Lord Stanton, and another spy in Henry’s ring. They too all ultimately took their orders from Lord Granwich.

The carriage started out at a fair trot, leaving Honiton behind and quickly entering the rolling hills that would give slowly onto the sea. The lanes were deep and narrow, and in some cases high hedges and steep sides gave an almost claustrophobic effect to the travelling.