The Earl of Her Dreams (8 page)

Kate found a pair of hose and wished Christian to the other side of the inn so that she could put them on. “She attends some events. She spends a week there during the holidays as well, before returning to the country.”

“Going to meet her in London, were you?”

Christian didn’t look up, so she gaped at the top of his head instead. “How’d you know?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t. But you are on the coaching road to London, traveling in disguise. What, did your father want you to marry the gnarled vicar?”

“My father is dead,” she said stiffly.

He straightened, his eyes boring into hers, unreadable. “My sympathies.”

His face was closed and she couldn’t detect from his tone of voice if he was being sincere. “Please wait outside while I dress.”

He rose, and she was startled to see his features change abruptly, a flippant mask sliding into place. “No chance for a quick tumble to warm our blood?”

“No. Out.”

He gave her a lazy smile as he left. She stared at the door, unnerved for a few moments, before gathering her clothing together.

She changed quickly and walked into the room next door to find Christian already rifling through scattered books and papers. Freewater’s room was a mess.

“What are you doing?”

Christian stopped probing through the bureau drawers and looked up. “Freewater is a member of a less than reputable publishing press in London. I’m trying to ascertain if he is up to anything beastly.”

His voice was full of disdain, and she blinked. “What difference does that make?”

He muttered something she couldn’t quite
catch. She decided to ignore him for the moment as she picked through a few belongings on the side table.

“So what are we looking for? A weapon, a motive?”

“Oh, anything that might prove incriminating. You don’t happen to see any journals other than these, do you?”

She gazed around the room. There were dozens of journals. She absently opened one. “What does Freewater need all of these for? Is he a writer?”

He shrugged carelessly, although there was an underlying tension to the action. “Perhaps. See if you can find any more.”

She complied. If nothing else, perhaps humoring Christian and his obsession with Freewater might expedite their search of the man’s room and move them into another sooner. She was certain that Freewater hadn’t done it.

Benji finally returned with ink and paper, and Christian set him to searching floorboards and walls as well. It was a bit cramped with the three of them, and as this was one of the larger rooms, she had little doubt that when they reached the smaller ones their searching strategies would have to change.

She was interested to see how Christian would proceed with the investigation.

She searched under the bed and said casually, “I saw two people on the balcony last night around two. One looked like Janson.”

Christian’s head shot up and his voice held a spark of interest. “Can you describe the other person?”

“It was a man, taller than the one I thought was Janson. I couldn’t see very well.”

“Well, Janson wasn’t very tall, so there are three or four men here at the inn who would fit—Desmond, Lake, Tiegs…Perhaps Gordon or that other servant, Elias. Could have been a servant bringing him something.”

Kate was reluctantly pleased by his assessment. Although his attitude might be suspect, Christian’s intelligence seemed quick.

“Hmmm…could have been.”

“Benji, what is the other male servant’s name? The one Gordon said lives above the stables?”

“You mean Tom, sir?”

“Thank you. You and Tom are too short, so you’re off the hook for now.”

Christian give Benji a teasing smile, but Benji was wide-eyed and looked horrified. She felt a stab of pity for the poor man.

“Benji, do you know if anyone on the staff served Janson last night out on the gallery?” Christian asked.

“No, sir. Perhaps you should ask Mrs. Wicket.”

“I will. The man could have been Lake. Man was out for blood last night.”

Kate bit her lip. “I heard them arguing prior to going to bed.”

Christian narrowed his eyes as he flipped through the pages in each journal. “What about?”

Kate caught Christian’s gaze and looked at Benji’s bent head. It was going to be quite awkward talking about certain topics in front of one of the servants.

Christian nodded his understanding. “Benji, do you think you might ask Mrs. Wicket if she sent any of the servants to Janson while he was on the gallery? Especially around two in the morning?”

“Of course, sir.” Benji withdrew from the room.

She heard his footsteps disappear downstairs.

“They were fighting about Mary.”

Christian looked unsurprised. “They fought over her like two cocks. That’s what precipitated the fight in the taproom. Could be that Lake finally saw his chance.”

“Julius Janson was not the nicest of fellows.”

“Most of us aren’t.”

Kate was uncomfortable thinking about the conversation between the two men. “Lake threatened him after he said some…rather awful things about Mary.”

A warm hand squeezed her shoulder. “The man was a right bastard, so I can only imagine. There’s a difference between wit and crudeness. Also differing levels of bastardy. Can’t imagine the man had many friends.”

“The Wickets seem—seemed—awfully fond of him, though.”

“The innkeeper is not the brightest of men.” He let his gaze wash over her boy’s clothing in a pointed fashion.

Kate swallowed at the look in his eyes as they locked back onto hers. “Don’t you think we should search another room? Freewater is not exactly suspect.”

Christian turned to glare at the knobby desk in the corner. “There’s nothing else here,” he muttered, irritation in every crease of his face.

“What did you expect?”

He waved her off. “We need to search the people too.”

She stared at him, her mouth dropping slightly. “You think the murderer just brought the weapon he used down to breakfast?”

Christian shrugged. “You never know.”

Benji huffed back through the door. “Mrs. Wicket said that no one was sent to Janson after midnight.”

“Thanks, Benji. What is the atmosphere in the dining room? Anyone getting anxious?”

Benji looked uncertain. “Mr. Crescent was particularly interested in what was happening up here. Mary said he had cornered Mr. Freewater earlier and badgered him about something. And of course Mr. Desmond is especially upset.”

Christian’s face became pensive. Benji watched him anxiously, and even Kate held her breath, though why she was holding her breath she couldn’t say.

“We should search the Crescents’ room next.”

Surprise ran through Kate. She had little doubt they would find anything more than drab yet officious clothing.

Sure enough, between the three of them they discovered nothing of interest in the Crescents’ room. Christian appeared agitated. He hadn’t even made an inappropriate remark in the past hour, and that said something about his state. Surely he hadn’t expected to find anything of value?

“Benji, are you sure you lowoked under the tick?
Mattresses make excellent hiding places. No heavy poles or crops? Not even, perhaps, a journal?”

“Mr. Black.” Kate gave him a pointed stare. “We have searched this room three times. We searched through Freewater’s nigh on five times. I don’t know what you expect to find. A loose floorboard? A sign proclaiming where the weapon is hidden?”

Christian cast a speculative glance at the floor and Kate threw her hands up. She was tired of his single-mindedness. She would never have guessed the man would be so thorough. It would be a good trait if expressed in any way other than his obsession with the two rooms they had searched…two rooms at the very bottom of the suspect pool.

She marched forward to tell him so, but a knock at the door stopped her in place.

“Enter,” Christian called out.

Sally opened the door, and Kate’s eyebrows rose as color flooded Benji’s cheeks. The inn was turning into a veritable feast of potential lovebirds. “Pardon me, Mr. Black, Mr. Kaden, Benji, but Mr. Wicket would like to know when the patrons can return to their rooms.”

Christian gave the floorboards one last frustrated glance. “Tell Mr. Wicket that we will be down in ten minutes. Thank you, Sally. Benji, you
can go with Sally. Please report what we talked about to the Wickets. Thank you for helping.”

Benji was hot on Sally’s heels, as he hightailed it from the room.

Christian leaned his head against the wall. “Well, we should get downstairs and search Freewater and Crescent to make sure they aren’t hiding anything.”

“They aren’t hiding anything, Mr. Black.”

His brows rose at the irritation clear in her voice. “How do you know, Mr. Kaden?”

“It doesn’t make any sense. You are just making things difficult for them because they are miserable men you obviously dislike.”

“If that were true, Desmond’s room would be upside down by now.”

“Desmond is a much more likely suspect.”

Christian’s full lips thinned. “Perhaps. Let’s go downstairs, search a few people, and call it a day.”

“What?” Kate felt cold. All of the positive traits she had recently attributed to Christian Black withered under the growing storm of anger, something that never seemed to be in short supply for her lately. The man was an utter cad, just as she had first suspected.

“Search a few people, then give up and do something else?” She felt the need to clarify.

He winked, his façade once more in place. She was far, far from being amused.

“I knew you weren’t a Bow Street Runner, but I didn’t realize what a charlatan you really were,” she said evenly and firmly pushed her disappointment aside.

He raised a brow. “What is your point,
Mr. Kaden
?”

She raised her chin at the jab. “Fine. Search a few people and then be on your merry way. I will solve this on my own. Good day, Mr. Black. Please have the courtesy to keep your merry way far from mine.”

His eyes narrowed. “You think you can solve Janson’s murder on your own?”

“I
will
solve it.”

“Why do you even care? And don’t give me that drivel about how someone has to care. I could give you plenty of instances of that statement being utterly false.”

She noted the bitterness in his voice, but it was drowned by the earlier thoughts of why she wanted to find out what happened to Janson.

“I want to see justice done.”

He snorted. “Justice probably was done. We both agreed that Janson wasn’t exactly a pillar of the community.”

Kate ignored him and marched to the door. Solace wasn’t going to be found in this room. Perhaps it wasn’t even to be found at this inn. But she would find it. And she would find out what happened to Janson.

“Wait, Kate—”

She yanked open the door so hard it crashed into the wall and recoiled, barely missing her. She was brimming with too much emotion to care. Too much anger, at both herself for allowing accidents to happen, and at the world for punishing her. She marched toward the stairs without a backward glance.

She could hear Christian swearing as he ran to catch her. He hopped in front of her, blocking the way, his left arm against the banister.

“Kate, you can’t just walk down there and start making things up.”

She gave him a pointed look. “No, that would be wrong, wouldn’t it?”

He brushed her comment aside. “They won’t believe you.”

“Why, because I’m not the charming Christian Black, Bow Street Runner, founder of the ludicrous Runner’s Code?”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Shhh. No, because you have no credentials.”

“Neither do you. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

She ducked under his arm and marched determinedly down the stairs, through the hallway, and into the dining room.

E
veryone turned as she entered, their chair legs scraping the hard floor.

“Good people. You may return to your rooms if you like, but I may be coming by to ask a few questions. Please continue to enjoy your stay.”

The patrons exchanged glances, but didn’t seem inclined to go back to their drinks or conversations.

“Did you find anything? Are you still searching?”

Kate tugged her head wrap, her anger converting into nerves as she realized that her actions were putting her directly into attention’s path. She straightened her shoulders resolutely. Looking out over the sea of faces, she knew no one else would take the helm. She caught Desmond’s sneer. Well, at least no one without an agenda. She would just have to deal with the consequences of being center stage.

“We haven’t found anything conclusive yet. And I can’t divulge any part of the investigation, I’m sure you understand.” She remembered her village constable, who had held the position more or less permanently, saying something equally pompous when a villager had lost a few sheep and blamed his neighbor.

“No, I don’t understand at all.” Desmond gave her a calculating look. “Why don’t you tell everyone what is going on?”

“I’m afraid Mr. Kaden can’t do that. He’s under strict orders. If you have issues, take them up with me.”

Kate stiffened as the smooth voice curled the hairs at the back of her neck. Desmond looked sour, but backed down under Christian’s authoritarian tone.

“We will be creating a plan and going over it
with Mr. Wicket later. We will let you know what we can. We’re not holding you hostage, the storm is doing that.”

He gave one of his too charming smiles, and Kate gritted her teeth as he received a few in return.

“You may ask us questions this evening.”

And with that, Christian nudged the middle of her back and they settled in at the only empty table, near the front of the room, slightly apart from the others. Daisy immediately appeared with a fruit and cheese plate.

“What are you doing?” Kate hissed to Christian after the barmaid left.

“Helping.” He popped a piece of cheese in his mouth, as if he once more hadn’t a care in the world.

“I thought you wanted to search a few people and then call it quits?”

“Couldn’t let you have all the fun, Mr. Kaden.”

She huffed and leaned against the back of her chair. “I don’t need your help.”

He played with another piece of cheese, rolling it end over end. Finally he looked up, his eyes growing serious. “Maybe not, but I’m offering it.”

She blinked, her remaining ire draining away amid his sober demeanor and accommodating words.

“Do you mean that?”

His eyes shadowed, but he responded in an even tone. “I may not say the right things all the time, and it may not be what anyone wants to hear, but sometimes even I mean what I say.”

She saw truth in his eyes. A strange thing, really.

“But you said earlier that you were going to find the killer and then you seemed to give up when your search of Freewater’s room didn’t yield whatever it was you wanted.”

He picked up a piece of bread. “I said I was going to take a look at the body and search a few rooms. I did that.”

“Under a false identity,” she whispered.

“How do you know I’m not a Runner?” He winked, the earlier shadows dissipating as if they had never been.

She shook her head. She didn’t know if she felt up to the task of unraveling the intricacies of the man in front of her. Somehow it seemed a more difficult task than discovering what had happened to Janson. But she was more relieved than she allowed herself to let on that he was once more on the job.

They could help each other. It had nothing to do with wanting to strangle him one minute and let him do to her whatever his eyes kept promising the next.

“I could use the help,” she said tentatively, looking around to make sure they weren’t being overheard. “I don’t actually know what I’m doing.”

He smiled. “I’ve been in enough trouble. I think I can handle the authority aspects without too much difficulty.”

She didn’t know whether to return the smile, or frown.

Daisy appeared with two plates of beef and two bowls of stew, all balanced perfectly. “Here you go, sweet cheeks.” She gave Christian a saucy smile and winked at Kate. Kate forced a smile and dug into her stew. It was flavorful, the meat and vegetables tender and perfectly cooked.

Kate ignored the stares from the other patrons. Even the walls of the room appeared shadowed, as if reflecting the edgy and nervous feelings of the occupants.

“We should probably devise a plan, just like you suggested. We don’t even really know what we are searching for,” Kate said as she mopped up the last of her stew.

“Whatever he was murdered with, I suppose.”

“Any ideas?”

“Something heavy.”

Amusement and annoyance had never fit together as well as they did with Christian Black.

“Any more ideas?”

“Something wielded with force, judging by Janson’s head, but then too he
could
have sustained the damage from a fall off the gallery.”

“But you don’t believe that.”

He shook his head and played with his spoon, clinking it against the side of the bowl. “No. The broken leg is probably a result of the fall, but it’s just not that high for the type of damage he sustained to the back of his skull.”

“Perhaps the green cloth we found belongs to the killer. Caught in the scuffle?”

“Perhaps.” He gave her a smile that she automatically returned for once. “And we have those other things that we found.”

“Do tell what you’ve found, Black.” Desmond appeared at their table and sat down imperiously, his dark hair ruffling as he tossed his head.

Christian’s eyes narrowed. “You’ll know when everyone else does, Desmond.”

“Everyone knows that Lake did it, the jealous bastard. When are you going to arrest him?” Desmond drummed his fingers on the table.

“There’s no evidence that Lake did it.”

“You are the only ones that refuse to see the truth. Pretty obvious, even for a simpleton.” He gave Christian a once-over. “Or maybe you don’t
know what you’re doing after all. I’m going to be a barrister. Perhaps I should take over this investigation.”

Kate watched, fascinated, as Christian relaxed against the back of his chair.

“No, you won’t. I’ll have you strung up under Section Three of the Runner’s Code—for interfering with an investigation. Nasty business being prosecuted for Section Three, don’t you agree, Mr. Kaden?”

Kate nodded, trying to keep the bemusement from her face. She had no idea where Christan was going with his comments, but she didn’t much like Desmond. He seemed to have taken up Janson’s vendetta against Lake, and most likely all of Janson’s less appealing characteristics now that the man was no longer his leader. Lake, on the other hand, seemed like a nice enough man, if somewhat unlucky.

“Ever see a man hanged on a gibbet, Desmond? His eyes bulging, lips quivering, his last thoughts of his god and mama shown clearly on his face? Happened to Ronnie McTiernay for fighting old man Creeper, best Runner around. McTiernay barely had time to make out his will before they had him swinging. Creeper’s a friend of mine. A good friend. No, a great friend.”

Desmond shoved away from the table. “I’ve got my eyes on you, Black.”

“Well, best get them off me. I have plenty better offers already.”

Desmond shot him a disgusted look and slunk off to the darkened corners of the taproom.

Kate clutched her spoon. “Do you think it wise to make an enemy of him? After this is over, he may come after you.”

Christian smirked. “I’d like to see him try.”

“He could hurt you.”

“Why, Kate, I didn’t know you cared. Besides, if he tried anything, he’d be swinging before the week is out.”

“Shhh!” She looked around wildly to see if anyone had caught his use of her name. Only Olivia, Francine, and Freewater were left in the room, the others having returned to their rooms or gone to the taproom. Christian kept sending irritated glances Freewater’s way. “And you don’t really believe your own tripe, do you? Next you’ll be telling everyone you are a peer of the realm.”

“The Earl of Canley, at your service.” He gave a short bow, smirking the entire time.

She dropped her spoon and threw up her hands. “Fine. Let’s get back to Julius Janson. What are we searching for, other than the weapon and
the garment that may have produced the fabric swatch in his hand? How about where the murder was committed?”

His brows knit, the smirk fading from his face as easily as peeling the outer skin from an onion.

“Somewhere near the gallery most likely in order for someone to toss him over.”

Kate nodded. “Why don’t we quickly search the rooms on this floor and then the gallery. I saw him standing out there last night, and his room leads directly onto it. It makes the most sense.”

Christian nodded and pushed away from the table, once again sending a look Freewater’s way. “Hold on for a moment, Kate.” He walked over to Freewater, and she followed in curiosity.

“Mr. Freewater, we finished searching your room. Do you mind turning out your pockets, so that we can eliminate you from our list of suspects?”

Freewater looked annoyed and huffed as he complied with the order. Kate watched with interest as the man’s face went completely white while patting an inner pocket. “What? Where?”

The man became frantic, and Kate watched Christian’s eyes narrow in speculation. “Have you lost something, Mr. Freewater?”

A bead of sweat ran down Freewater’s forehead. “No, no. Here, here is what is in my pocket.”

He held out a few pounds and a handkerchief. Christian made a point of examining the articles and then waved him off. “Thank you, Freewater. After seeing this, we may have further questions.”

“Yes, yes, as you will.” The man was already darting around the table and out of the room. Christian’s face looked torn between frustration and glee, neither of which she understood.

He turned toward her. “Shall we?”

They searched the kitchen, storage rooms, and private dining areas, but didn’t find anything interesting. The guests had started to return to their rooms, so Christian and Kate were surprised upon entering the upstairs gallery to see Nickford scraping at the railing.

“What are you doing, Mr. Nickford?”

“Gathering samples.”

Christian and Kate exchanged glances. “Samples for what?” she asked.

“For my experiment.”

“What experiment are you running?”

He scraped a few slivers into a small glass container. “I’m going to test to see if the spirits took Mr. Janson.”

Kate gaped and could see Christian’s eyebrows rise almost to his hairline. “The spirits?”

“Devilish things. They have been plaguing the inn for the last few days. Mr. Wicket said so. He said, ‘Nickford, didn’t you know, the spirits have been acting up?’ I, of course, determined to discover what was happening. Poor Mrs. Wicket has had a hard time sleeping lately. Always up and about roaming around with the dead.”

Kate would never have guessed Nickford could get any stranger.

“Er, wouldn’t you be taking away her company then, by ridding the inn of the, um, spirits?”

Christian sent her an amused glance.

“No, no. The spirits are most likely calling to her. Get rid of them and she’ll sleep peaceful-like again. Heard them calling last night, and then her up and roaming outside my room.”

Kate frowned. “She was roaming outside your room last night.”

“Oh yes. Heard a thud and a loud moan. Knew it had to be the spirits fussing with Mrs. Wicket again.”

Christian and Kate exchanged glances, and Christian finally leaned forward to stop Nickford from gathering more “evidence.”

“When did you hear this thud?”

“Round about half past two, I’d say.”

“Did you look out your door?”

“No, already knew what it was, didn’t I? But I set up a specter thingamajiggy. Should catch it tonight or tomorrow.”

Christian nodded absently, but Nickford looked expectant.

“I’m sure you will catch it, Mr. Nickford,” Kate said.

“Right good of you to say so, Mr. Kaden. Well, looks like I’m done here. Good evening.”

Kate examined the spot on the railing as soon as Nickford disappeared. It had been scraped clean. Christian bent below and examined the slats.

“Look.” He pointed to a spot on one of the slats.

Kate peered below and saw a darkened spot, as if blood had formed a small puddle there. “You think Nickford cleaned up the rest of the evidence? That these are bloodstains and this is the spot?”

She looked over the railing and saw that the snow below was slightly indented. Nothing too obvious, as the newly fallen flakes had covered the indentation. Still, it looked as if something might have landed there and been dragged away.

“The new trail Gordon made covered the tracks, but I’ll bet that is where the body landed and was dragged.”

“Nice work, Mr. Black.” Kate gave him an admiring glance, a real one, and he smiled back, a real smile in return.

“Oh, I think we make a good team, Kate.”

He didn’t move toward her, but the air felt a bit warmer, as if his body had suddenly grown closer. The air pricked her exposed skin as warmth caressed her less exposed areas.

She stumbled back into the railing and nicked her hand on one of the splinters created by Nickford’s tests. She jerked her hand away from the railing and was relieved to see the splintered edge was a few inches from the bloodstains.

“Kate?”

She waved him off and peered at her hand under the fading light. “Just a splinter from the rail.”

“Here, allow me.”

Before she could protest, Christian lifted her hand to inspect it. “Hmmm, looks like there is a sliver of wood in there. I should remove it.”

And with that she could only watch in shock as he took the side of her hand into his mouth, which was hot and wet and indescribable. His tongue looped around the underside and a shiver racked her body as he gently began to suck.