For Desire Alone (18 page)

“It is more the first than the second, I can almost guarantee it,” Vivien said, her tone very low and filled with comfort.

Mariah appreciated the effort, but she shrugged. “One or the other, the result is the same. And so you are correct. I must put John out of my mind and find someone to protect me. As much as I would like to curl up in a ball and simply mourn what I cannot have, what I almost had, it is not possible.”

“No, you cannot do that,” Vivien said, her voice suddenly distant. “Women of our station do not have that luxury to mourn love. This is our life and we can do nothing but live it as it has been presented to us.”

Mariah nodded. “And I intend to do so.”

“Good,” Vivien said and her tone was now clear and strong as ever. “My dear friend, let me say one more thing on the topic and then we shall not speak of it again unless you desire it.”

“Very well.”

“John Rycroft is a fool not to love you,” Vivien said with a shake of her head. “And so was Owen. But a man’s love is a very dangerous thing anyway, so you may not realize it, but you could have dodged a very dangerous situation.”

Mariah smiled. Her friend meant well, but her words did not help. She shrugged. “I have never experienced the love you describe, so I must take your word for it.”

She looked out the window and was relieved to see that they were turning into the long drive of a city estate.

“It appears we are here, wherever the mysterious
here
is,” she said, her tone as bright as she could make it under the circumstances. “And I shall shine and coo and seduce to the best of my abilities.”

But as Vivien laughed and they prepared to exit the carriage, Mariah knew what she said was nothing but a lie. She might pretend a great deal, but a part of her was dying tonight. A part she desperately wanted to save, even though it wasn’t possible.

Mariah smiled at their host from across the room and did not have to force the expression. Viscount Felix Edmondstone was a well-known and highly respected man of the
ton
. He was older than she, much older; she guessed somewhere in his forties. He had lost his wife three years before and had never had lovers during their time together, so she hadn’t met him before now, but she liked him a great deal. He seemed kind, intelligent, gentlemanly, and from the way he talked to her and kept his stare on her, he liked her well enough too.

He did nothing to stir her body or her heart, but that was best. A mistress wasn’t supposed to feel strong passions or emotions. Doing so once, let alone twice, had more than proven that fact.

She turned away from the gentleman and poured herself a glass of wine from the decanter on the sideboard. As she took a sip, she felt a gentle hand on her forearm and turned to find Vivien standing at her side.

“Would you like to take a turn about the parlor down the hallway? Lord Edmondstone tells me there are some very rare books in that room and I know how you love your reading.”

Mariah nodded in relief. She wasn’t having a bad time, by any means, but getting away from the crowd sounded heavenly. The two women linked arms and both gave a nod to their host as they slipped from the room and down the hallway to another parlor. Once they were inside, Vivien released her and Mariah leaned back against the closed door with a sigh.

“It cannot be as terrible as your expression implies!” Vivien said.

Mariah shook her head. “Oh no, not at all. Is my face really so awful?” She found a mirror above the fireplace and examined herself. She did look a bit drawn. “I hope he did not feel the same way.”

Vivien moved to the fire to look at her reflection as well. “No, it wasn’t until you left the room that you relaxed into this expression of a tormented lady.”

“Good.” Mariah stepped away and paced to the window to stare outside. “I promise you, I am not having a dreadful time. Lord Edmondstone is everything good and gentlemanly.”

“He is, indeed,” Vivien agreed. “He has not had a mistress in nearly fifteen years. He gave that all up when he married his late wife. I thought he would be a good match to you, as he is not wild, he is kind and he will likely want your company as much as your body. More to the point, he is capable and willing of taking care of you if you do the same for him.”

Mariah could hardly keep her frown from deepening on her face. “Yes, that is exactly what I need. He will do, I suppose.”

But her thoughts flitted immediately, as they had been all night, to John and his passionate embraces. His kiss, his whispers of desire against her ear. To the connection they shared that went so much deeper than friendship.

Vivien took her hand and the act mercifully cleared her mind of those troubling thoughts.

“I agree that he could be the one for you. That is why I brought you here, but Mariah, do not jump so quickly. This is a first meeting. Have a few more, get to know the man and
then
make your decision.”

Mariah shifted. Once again, Vivien’s voice of reason was quite correct, but it was hard to follow. Knowing she loved John and could never have him made her want to run. And entering into a protector/mistress relationship with Edmondstone was one way to do just that. John would let her go if she found another.

Vivien released her hand. “I shall leave you alone for a moment and make your excuses. Do take a look at the rare books, for that is what I intend to tell our host and other guests that you were taken in by.”

“Vivien,” Mariah said as her friend moved for the door. She turned there with a questioning tilt of her head. “Thank you. Your friendship is all that makes this odd situation bearable.”

Vivien’s face softened. “Of course. My friendship is something you shall always be able to depend upon, no matter what happens with Edmondstone, John Rycroft or any other man.”

Then her friend was gone, leaving Mariah to collect herself. Not an easy task, considering how busy her mind and how heavy her heart were. And both were filled with memories of only one person.

She sighed as she turned to examine the bookshelves Vivien had offered as a reason for her to take a moment to herself. She doubted even books could offer her respite, but at least it was worth trying.

There was a small bookshelf against the back wall between two comfortable chairs and she moved over toward it. She bent down at her waist and looked over the titles, making note of a few she found interesting so she could gush over them later for the benefit of her host.

Finally, she straightened up and turned to exit the room, but as she did so there was a flash of movement from the corner of her eye, a burst of pain as something connected squarely to the side of her head and then darkness as she slumped to the floor.

John stared at the ledger he had been examining with his brother earlier in the day. Adam had made notes in the margins here and there, corrections, as well as suggestions for savings and increasing growth. He
should
have been focused on those things, especially considering that Adam’s notes were quite detailed and interesting.

But he wasn’t.

All he could think about was Mariah.

“Fuck,” he cursed as he shoved his chair away from his desk with violence and paced to the window. It was getting late and the lights from the streetlamps and houses glittered like diamonds all around him. He had always liked the night, been more comfortable in the shadows it provided.

But now the night reminded him of her too. How he should be with her right now. How he had spent so many nights tangled in her body. Worse yet, how he had spent so many nights courting her smile or listening to her speak on topics that were a passion to her.

He rubbed his eyes and tried to forget, but his traitorous mind would not allow that. He was a prisoner to himself and there was no ignoring or denying that fact.

There was a light knock at his door and he spun around to face his servant in relief. An interruption would at least force him not to think of her for five minutes.

“Yes?” he asked as Swanson stepped into the doorway.

The butler, normally so composed, seemed a little rattled. “Sir…you have a delivery.”

John glanced at the clock on his mantle and blinked. It was nearly midnight. “So late?” he asked.

The servant held out a bulky package, wrapped in white paper twisted around what was obviously some kind of fabric.

“Sir…” he said as John moved forward to take it. “Th-there appears to be
blood
on the outer wrapping.”

He turned the package over as John rushed to him, and sure enough, there was a thick, dark fleck of red liquid on the seam of the paper. John stared.

“Could it be ink?” he asked.

Swanson shrugged. “I hope so.”

“Stand by,” John said. “And be prepared to send someone to fetch the Watch if need be.”

Swanson nodded sharply. “I’ve already told one of the younger footmen to prepare himself.”

John smiled despite the tension. He could always depend on his servants.

Slowly, he peeled away the paper, being careful to leave the spot of red intact in case there was an investigation in the future. Inside there was a piece of linen wound ’round something heavy, and to his horror, more of the red liquid dotted the fabric.

He and the butler exchanged a quick glance before he flipped the fabric aside and revealed what was inside. What he saw made him stagger backward, catching himself on the edge of the desk before he fell.

“What is it?” Swanson asked as he leaned closer in the light.

“It—it is a necklace Mariah sometimes wears,” John choked out. “And it is splashed with blood.”

Chapter Fifteen

John pulled his horse up short in front of Mariah’s home and was down and running before the animal even fully stopped. He pounded on the door with his fist, even as he tested it. It was locked, of course. As he waited for a servant to arrive, he looked around.

The guard he had hired to track Mariah and protect her was nowhere to be found. Which meant either he had been incapacitated…or she wasn’t here.

The door cracked to reveal Mariah’s butler Lymon, his eyes wide and his face pale thanks to the racket John had been making. The man was even wielding a heavy candlestick up almost as if it was a weapon, but when he saw it was John outside, he lowered it with a blinking stare of surprise.

“Mr. Rycroft?” he asked. “I—we did not expect you this evening.”

“Where is Mariah?” John demanded as he shoved past the butler into her foyer. The house was strangely quiet. Too quiet, and John’s desperation mounted. “Mariah! Mar—”

“Sir, she is not here,” Lymon interrupted with irritation, but his tone and his face had begun to reflect a deep worry which mirrored John’s own.

His heart sank. “Where is she?”

Lymon tilted his head. “I don’t know all her plans, of course, but she did say she was going to Miss Manning’s home for the evening, just as she has done many times before. A fact you know as well as I do. What is it, sir? What is going on?”

John bit his lip. “Miss Mariah may be in danger, Lymon.”

The butler’s eyes went wide. “Danger?”

John nodded as nausea rolled up on him. He tried not to think of all the possibilities of how someone would get her necklace, covered in what appeared to be blood, but images still creeped in. Of Mariah in an alleyway somewhere. Of her injured, in pain and frightened. Of her dead.

He shook the thoughts away with a moan of pain he couldn’t suppress. “Are you certain she went to Vivien’s?”

The servant nodded. “Yes. She was dressed in a pretty evening gown and told me she would be back late in the evening. I assumed there was a party.”

John pursed his lips. Vivien’s parties were notorious. And he was almost always invited to them. Or knew about them, at any rate. There had been
no
gathering planned at her home tonight.

“Did Mariah say anything to let you know where they might be going for this soiree?”

Lymon drew back in affront that was not pretended. “She doesn’t share those facts with me, sir. I wouldn’t dare intrude upon her privacy and ask. I realize that sometimes the servants of ladies like Miss Mariah are expected to act as spies for their…protectors. But I assure you that this household was not run that way. Nor would I allow it to be run that way in the future.”

John nodded. “I understand. And if this were not an emergency, I would never dare ask you to invade her privacy. Please, I beg of you, speak to the other servants, especially her lady’s maid. If you hear anything, I will be going to Miss Manning’s directly.”

The butler shifted. “Is she truly in danger?”

John nodded as he ran for the door. “I pray not.”

But as he swung up on the horse he had abandoned in the drive, he knew in his heart that those prayers were not to be realized. He only hoped he could find her and that she would not be ripped from him.

The first thing John noticed as he rode up to Vivien’s home was that the guard he had hired to watch her was sitting on his horse across the street. For a moment, his heart soared. If the guard was here, Mariah had to be here, as well. She had to be safe and the necklace that had been sent to him was a cruel hoax.