Death Comes to London (29 page)

The slightly smug look of satisfaction on Broughton’s face confirmed to Robert that Miss Harrington’s suspicion might be correct.

“Is that snuffbox listed amongst the dowager’s possessions, Miss Harrington?”

“I believe it went missing.”

Robert studied Broughton’s face. “One wonders if it ended up somewhere in here. Perhaps the magistrate can check. From what Oliver told me, you considered him to be vermin as well.”

“He had unnatural appetites. No man of worth can accept that. He was inherently weak.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not some emotional fool, Kurland. I made sure I studied my brother’s abnormalities in the same scientific manner as I endeavor to solve every problem.”

“And what exactly did that entail?”

“You systematically poisoned him!” Dr. Redmond shouted. “I’ve seen his body, Broughton. He has all the symptoms of chronic arsenic use, white lines on his nails, scaly skin, and—”

“And what, Doctor? He was
weak.
I proved it.”

“I don’t understand,” Robert said slowly. “You used your brother in a scientific experiment?”

Broughton exhaled. “I suppose I might as well reveal the whole to you. I conceived of a way to determine if Oliver’s
weaknesses
affected his strength as a man. By giving him small regular doses of arsenic, I was able to note the progression of his ailments and compare him to my test subject—me.”

“You’re saying that you took arsenic, too?”

“Yes.” Broughton looked impatient. “For the study to work, I needed to have data from a normal man such as myself.”

“But you’re still alive,” Miss Harrington said.

“Exactly, which proved my theory. I must admit I’ve suffered some ill effects of ingesting the poison, but unlike Oliver I
survived,
proving he was too morally and physically weak to endure the poison.”

Before Robert could even begin to frame a reply, Dr. Redmond pushed past him and stood in front of Broughton.

“And you were intending to publish these so-called results, were you?” His voice was shaking and his hands were clenched into fists. Robert readied himself to intervene.

“Of course not. They were merely for my own satisfaction.”

“Even though your logic is flawed and your results are laughable?”

“That is an illogical conclusion fueled by your own innate weaknesses, Doctor.”

“It is damn well not. You forgot to take one thing into account in your so-called fair and even trial. Oliver was a slight, slender man and you are probably double his weight. Of
course
the poison affected him more quickly than it did you!”

“I—” Broughton shook his head. “Damnation, you’re
right
. I didn’t think of that, and there is no way I can go back and reconfigure my results.”

Dr. Redmond lunged at him and it took both Robert and Andrew to pull him away. “Oliver is dead, you bastard, and all you care about is your ridiculous experiment!”

Robert patted Dr. Redmond on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, we’ll find justice for Oliver in the courts.”

“I doubt it.” Broughton brushed down his disarranged coat and cravat. “Who is going to take me to court? In order to prosecute me, a member of my own family has to place evidence against me at the Bow Street Magistrate’s Court. Neither my mother nor my father will want to do that. In truth, they might even be grateful to me. I’ve disposed of a tyrant
and
a pervert and cleansed our family name.”

Robert glanced over at Andrew, who nodded.

“Unfortunately, he is correct. By law, only the family of the deceased can decide to take the matter further.”

Broughton smiled. “Then perhaps we might all agree to put this unfortunate matter behind us? The dowager and Oliver will be received into the family tomb at our country church, and no one will be any the wiser.”

With great difficulty, Robert restrained himself from planting Broughton a facer.

“I think you’re forgetting something.”

“What would that be?”

“Lady Bentley.”

Irritation flickered behind Broughton’s brown gaze. “What about her?”

“Mr. Bentley intends to prosecute you for selling a set of rubies that didn’t belong to you and for murdering his mother.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, but I am. He has evidence to prove both, and even if his case doesn’t succeed, it will draw attention to you and your family and the current state of your finances.” Robert paused. “I’ve already told Mr. Bentley that I will stand as a witness for him. And I cannot guarantee that under oath I won’t reveal the reasons why I believe you killed your own brother and grandmother as well.”

“You—”

Broughton leaped at Robert and brought him crashing down to the ground, his hands wrapped around Robert’s neck. Even as he fought to get free, Robert was aware of Broughton’s superior strength and his own frightening inability to throw the man off.

“Let him go!”

Just as he recognized Miss Harrington’s voice there was a crack and Broughton slumped over him, dousing Robert in the vilest tasting liquid he had ever imagined. By the time someone rolled Broughton off him, Robert lay in a puddle of rodent parts, broken glass, and embalming fluid.

“Are you all right, Major?”

Miss Harrington knelt beside Major Kurland and considered his dazed expression.

He gingerly sat up and clutched his head. “Was that completely necessary?”

“I thought you were going to die. I picked up the heaviest thing I could find and hit the lieutenant on the head with it.”

“Thank you.”

“You are most welcome.” She glanced to the side and bit her lip. “Lieutenant Broughton is still unconscious. Mr. Stanford has sent for the magistrate.”

“Let’s hope Mr. Bentley did his part and gave his information to Bow Street in time.”

“We can but hope.” She handed him her dainty handkerchief. “You might wish to wipe your face.” She shuddered. “There are
things
on it.”

This time he accepted her assistance to get to his feet and then sat down at one of the workbenches. He stretched out his injured leg and occasionally rubbed his thigh, but apart from the throb of his head, he didn’t seem to be in too much pain.

He lowered his voice. “May I suggest that Dr. Redmond escort Miss Anna home?”

Lucy cast a distracted glance at her sister, who was talking animatedly to Mr. Stanford. “Perhaps we should all go.”

“No, I need Stanford to stay. As a respected lawyer he’ll be invaluable in convincing the magistrate that we have a case.”

“Then Sophia could take Anna home.”

“I doubt she’ll leave without Stanford.”

“I suppose you want me to leave as well.”

“As you were the one who knocked Broughton out, I believe you should stay to protect my reputation, Miss Harrington.”

“Then I’ll try and persuade Anna and the doctor to depart before Lieutenant Broughton regains consciousness. I suspect Dr. Redmond might need to leave Town in rather a hurry.”

“I don’t like him getting away with this, but he does have some excuse.”

She blinked at him. “That was my earlier contention, Major. I’m glad you have come around to my way of thinking.”

“How could I not?” He smiled at her. She turned away in some confusion to find Anna, and send her and the doctor on their way. As she closed the door behind them, she considered what to do next. Should she return to the major’s side, or join Sophia and Mr. Stanford, who were talking intently to each other?

Another slight motion caught her gaze and she turned to see Lieutenant Broughton reaching upward for the brown bottle of cough medicine that sat on the worktop.

“No!” she shouted, and ran toward him, but it was too late, he swallowed the contents of the bottle and let it smash on the floor beside him. Within seconds his smug expression disappeared, and he curled up into a ball and writhed on the floor screaming.

Lucy took a step backward and then another, her hands pressed to her mouth.

“Miss Harrington.”

She turned blindly and threw herself against Major Kurland’s chest. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders.

“Come away, it’s all right. I have you safe, come away.”

She closed her eyes tightly and let him draw her backward out of the building and into another. She only wished she could stop up her ears from hearing the lieutenant’s continual screams as the poison tore through him.

The warmth and the scent of tropical flowers and damp earth made her aware that they were in the conservatory. She was also aware that Major Kurland continued to hold her within the circle of his arms. It was surprisingly comfortable. Her head fitted nicely under his chin and, beneath the embalming fluid, he smelled pleasantly of bay soap and a hint of cigarillo smoke.

She looked to her left and discovered that Mr. Stanford had gathered Sophia into his arms and was dropping little kisses over her hair and forehead.

“Oh,” she whispered. “That’s the way of it.”

And that was what Major Kurland had meant when he’d suggested that Mr. Stanford wasn’t for her. She watched for a moment longer, until Sophia lifted her head and kissed Mr. Stanford back. She’d been so caught up in solving the mysterious deaths with Major Kurland that she’d completely missed the growing romance between Sophia and Mr. Stanford.

Very carefully, she placed both her hands on Major Kurland’s chest and pushed backward until she could look up into his dark blue gaze.

“You can release me now.”

“As long as you are all right.”

“I’m quite recovered. That was horrible.”

“I know.” He grimaced. “I should never have left that bottle out on the worktop.”

“You couldn’t have known he’d be prepared to do
that.
What an agonizing way to die.” She shuddered and his arm tightened around her waist again. “He was quite mad, wasn’t he?”

“I believe he was.”

“Poor Lady Broughton. She’s lost both her sons now.”

“Indeed.”

A commotion in the garden made her look toward the open door of the conservatory.

“I should imagine that’s the magistrate.”

“Yes.”

She risked another look upward and found he was studying her intently.

“Major Kurland, shouldn’t you be going to help them?”

“Yes, I suppose I should.”

“Then—”

He slowly released her, his hands running down from her shoulders to her hands. “May I suggest you and Mrs. Giffin return to the main house? The magistrate will probably need to speak to you.”

“Yes, Major.” She hesitated. “Are you quite recovered from your fall? You look a little dazed.”

“I’m fine.” He shook himself down like a horse. “Please go into the house.”

Lucy watched him walk away from her, his expression resolute. Mr. Stanford followed him, leaving her alone with Sophia.

“Lucy?”

“Yes, love?”

“Are you all right?”

“I believe I am.” She let out a shaky breath. “Perhaps this is the best way for this to end.”

“With everyone dead like in a Shakespearean tragedy? Although Andrew did say that securing a conviction against Lieutenant Broughton would still have been almost impossible.”

“Then I suppose we should be glad that the lieutenant decided to take his own life.” Lucy shuddered. “Although it is a
horrible
way to die.”

Sophia came close enough to pat her on the shoulder. “More of a Greek tragedy, then?”

“I’m sure the gentlemen will see it like that.” Lucy buttoned up her pelisse with hands that still shook. “I must write a note to Mr. Bentley and tell him what happened. I’m sure he will be relieved to hear that his mother’s death was not his fault after all.”

“
And
that he can drop his lawsuit and bury his mother in her rubies.”

“That reminds me, I must return them to him before I leave London with the box tucked in my baggage.”

“You’re not leaving yet, are you?” Sophia held her at arm’s length. “The Season has barely begun!”

“I appreciate everything that you and Mrs. Hathaway have done for me, Sophia, but I don’t think I want a husband anymore. I just want to go home.”

Sophia held her gaze. “This isn’t because of Mr. Stanford, is it?”

“Not at all, why?”

“Because I would hate for him to come between us.” Sophia drew an unsteady breath. “I know this isn’t a good time to tell you this, but Mr. Stanford just asked me to marry him.”

Lucy smiled. “One would hope so, considering how he was behaving.”

“Are you angry with me?”

“Why would I be angry? You are perfectly suited. I wish you nothing but happiness.”

“I’m so glad that you said that. I’ve been feeling ridiculously guilty.” She embraced Lucy.

“Then don’t. If he hadn’t been intending to propose to you after all that kissing, I would’ve thought him a rake.”

Sophia smiled. “You saw that? Then perhaps I should be asking you the same question about Major Kurland.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Mr. Stanford wasn’t the only man behaving in such an intimate fashion.”

Lucy went still. “Major Kurland was merely shielding me from the horrors of Lieutenant Broughton’s death.”

“I’m sure he was, but I did happen to notice that he wasn’t averse to dropping a kiss on the top of your head.” Sophia turned toward the door, leaving Lucy frozen to the spot. “Now perhaps we’d better do what Major Kurland suggested and return to the house. I’m sure Lady Broughton will need our support.”

Chapter 19

R
obert cleared his throat and attempted to ease the collar of his tightly buttoned-up uniform coat. He’d been “invited” to visit the Earl of Clavelly at home to discuss the matter of the Broughton murders, and more importantly, he suspected, to provide an explanation as to how the earl’s nieces had become embroiled in the matter. The invitation had all the impact of a royal summons and had sent a reluctant Robert straight around to the Clavelly mansion. He was rather reminded of being hauled in front of his commanding officer for a severe dressing-down.

“I’ve spoken to the coroner and the magistrate at Bow Street, my lord. As the Countess of Broughton is too distraught to be asked if she wishes to pursue the case, the matter will remain private until the earl returns from India.”