With This Ring (37 page)

The cold stone floor contained the flames before they could do any serious damage. Leo and Beatrice smothered the fire quickly. A few minutes later the chamber was lit only by the light of the lantern that Sibson had carried.

Beatrice held a handkerchief over her nose and looked at Leo. "This will certainly make for an interesting tale in the

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morning papers. How on earth are we to explain this bizarre situation?"

"Damned if I know." Leo wiped his forehead with his shirt-sleeve and glanced around the chamber. "You are the expert when it comes to crafting works of fiction. I suggest you think of a good tale that I can give to the authorities. But whatever you do, keep yourself out of it. You do not need the scandal."

"I rather think that she would survive it," Madame Virtue said in a curiously calm voice. "She is a most resourceful lady."

Leo and Beatrice turned swiftly. Madame Virtue had pulled herself into a sitting position on the edge of a brassbound leather trunk. She looked unnaturally serene. Her black veil was back in place, concealing her features.

There was a small open flask in her gloved hand.

"I salute you, Mrs. Poole." Madame Virtue raised the flask. "My worthy opponent."

Beatrice looked at her and then at the flask. "What have you done?"

"Taken one of Dr. Cox's special tonics, of course." Madame Virtue sounded amused. "I had him make up some extra to have on hand for just such a contingency as this."

"You have swallowed poison," Beatrice whispered. "Surely you do not expect me to allow myself to be charged with murder and sent to the gallows, do you? So very undignified."

"You must know enough secrets to buy your way out of the hangman's noose," Leo said. "At worst, you'll be transported."

"Unfortunately I cannot depend upon that outcome." The black veil shivered. "It is better this way. There is just one thing I would very much like to know before I say farewell, Mrs. Poole."

"What is it?" Beatrice asked.

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"Is that ring you wear around your neck truly one of the Forbidden Rings?"

"No. It is the Monkcrest ring. I really do not know where the Forbidden Rings are."

"I see. So the secret of the statue will go unrevealed after all." Madame Virtue sounded weary. "How very ironic." "Madame Virtue-" Beatrice started forward.

"No." Leo moved quickly to intercept her. "Do not get too close."

Madame Virtue's laugh was a hoarse croak. "It is all right, Monkcrest. I assure you, I have no more tricks up my sleeve." She looked toward Beatrice. "Do not fret, Mrs. Poole. You cannot save everyone, you know."

"Dear God." Beatrice pulled free of Leo's grip.

He let her go. It was obvious now that Madame Virtue was dying. He watched Beatrice catch her by the shoulders. "The important thing," Madame Virtue whispered, "is that you do save some."

She shuddered and collapsed in Beatrice's arms.

aPler 21

fortnight later Lucy looked up from the solicitor's letter she had just opened. She stared at Beatrice, who was examining a length of pale yellow muslin at the counter.

"This is astounding," Lucy announced with a gasp. "It says here that Madame Virtue left all her property and possessions to The Academy."

"I know that it is difficult to grasp," Beatrice began, then grimaced at a spate of very bad French that erupted from the other side of a nearby curtain. Arabella was being fitted for her engagement ball gown.

Much to Beatrice's surprise and relief, Lady Hazel-

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thorpe had professed herself thrilled with her son's choice of a bride.

"What happens when she discovers that Arabella doesn't have a dowry after all?" Beatrice had demanded of her aunt.

Winifred waved that aside. "Lady Hazelthorpe is no fool. She is well aware that she is extremely fortunate that her son has chosen a bride whose family is connected to the Earl of Monkcrest."

"But it is such a very loose connection," Beatrice pointed out. "Merely a sort of pending engagement." She did not have the heart to explain that Leo had declared his intentions only in order to avoid a duel.

"There is nothing pending about it," Winifred countered. "And Arabella's dowry is no longer an issue." "What do you mean?"

"Monkcrest came to see me the other day to assure me that he would restore Arabella's inheritance."

"He did what? He never told me that."

"He said you might be a trifle difficult about it, as you had not actually found those silly artifacts and, therefore, he could not purchase them from you. So we agreed to handle the financial details between ourselves."

"I see," Beatrice whispered, dazed.

"He also said that as far as he was concerned, he had gotten what he wanted out of the arrangement."

"I see." Beatrice wondered precisely what he had meant by that. "Aunt Winifred, what did you mean when you said there was nothing pending about my engagement?"

Winifred looked surprised by the question. "My dear, Monkcrest gave you that magnificent ruby ring that you wear around your neck, did he not?"

"Well, yes. But he never said that it was an engagement ring. It was a sort of gift."

"Nonsense. Everyone knows that is the Monkcrest Ruby. It is a legend in the family."

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"Whose family?"

"Monkcrest's, of course. The earls give that ring only to the women they love."

"I have never heard of that particular Monkcrest legend."

"Really? The entire ton is talking about it. You must ask his lordship. I'm certain he will tell you the details."

But it had not proven the easiest of questions to ask, Beatrice had discovered. She told herself that she was waiting for just the right moment and just the right setting to inquire about the ruby.

But deep down she suspected that she was postponing the query because she was afraid of the possible response. That old relic? Found it in the attic a few years ago. No particular signiflcance. Why do you ask?

"Do you think it is legal?" Lucy asked bluntly.

"What? The will?" Beatrice pulled her thoughts back to the present. "Yes, of course it is. With the income from her investments, we shall be able to enlarge and expand The Academy. We can hire more French tutors and some experienced dressmakers to handle the education of our young ladies."

"Astonishing. Absolutely astonishing." Lucy sat back in her chair. "She had nothing in common with the kind of women we attempt to help. I wonder why she did it."

Beatrice thought about Madame Virtue's last words. You cannot save everyone, you know. The important thing is that you do save some. "We shall never know the answer to that."

That afternoon Leo sauntered into Beatrice's study without waiting to be announced. He carried the alchemist's Aphrodite in his arms. Elf paced placidly in his wake.

The pair of them certainly made themselves at home these days, Beatrice thought. They wandered in and out of her town house as though it were their own.

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Elf headed straight for his favored spot in front of the

hearth. He yawned, flopped down, and promptly closed his eyes.

Beatrice ignored the hound. She looked at Leo, savoring the intense sense of recognition that shivered through her. "Good day, my lord." She put down her pen and glanced at his shoulder. "How is your wound?"

"Nicely healed." He set the statue down on the floor near the hearth and stood back to admire it. "Thanks to your excellent doctoring.'

"You do appear to recover well from your injuries-" "For a man of my years, do you mean?"

"Indeed," she said dryly. "Nevertheless, sir, it alarms me that you seem to be making a habit of getting yourself shot."

"Believe me, it is a habit that I intend to break." Leo brushed off his hands. "I am told that at my age, a man must cut back on some forms of excessive excitement."

"I do hope you will not be bored by such a regimen." He gave her a wicked grin and walked around her desk to where she sat. Bracing his hands on the arms of her chair, he leaned down to give her a deep, hungry kiss.

When she was quite breathless, he raised his head. There was an unholy gleam of satisfaction in his eye. "I said I ought to cut out some forms of excessive excitement, not all."

"I'm happy to hear that, my lord." With an effort she managed to regain her aplomb. "Where have you been?" "I stopped at the Drunken Cat. Clarinda fed me one of

her new, improved meat pies and asked me to give you her best. She appears to be thriving in her new career as a tavern keeper."

"That's wonderful." Beatrice glanced at the statue. "I see you decided to keep the Aphrodite."

"I thought she would make an excellent souvenir of our adventure."

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Beatrice's stomach tightened. A souvenir was something one kept to remember something that was finished. "I see. Did you dispose of those artifacts from Trull's storage room?"

Leo lounged on the edge of her desk and studied the green figure. "Everything has been dealt with exactly as you directed. The items that you pointed out in that chamber, the ones that disturbed you, were hauled away and destroyed. The rest were auctioned off to various collectors. The proceeds will go to fund the work of The Academy as Madame Virtue's will stipulated."

"And so it ends."

"Indeed. Incidentally, the authorities seem quite satisfied with that bit of fiction you concocted."

"Actually, I thought it was one of my better plots."

She had kept it as simple and as close to the truth as possible. The newspapers had reported the story with enthusiasm, treating it as though it were yet another addition tothe Monkcrest legend.

So far as the public knew, the Earl of Monkcrest, in the process of recovering a lost artifact belonging to the estate of the late Lord Glassonby, had uncovered the work of a ring of thieves who dealt in stolen antiquities. The villains had quarreled violently among themselves, and in the end all had died. Neither Mrs. Poole nor Mrs. York were mentioned.

A. Sibson, antiquities dealer, had also been left out of the narrative. Neither Beatrice nor Leo saw any point in turning him over to the authorities. He had survived his wound and was preparing for an extended visit to Italy.

"A bit fanciful," Leo said. "Also somewhat glib."

"It is not as though anyone will question it, my lord. You are, after all, the Earl of Monkcrest, noted authority on legendary antiquities."

"The crucial thing is that neither Mrs. Poole nor Mrs. York was ruined in the course of the affair."

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"Ruined." Beatrice froze. She looked at the neatly bun-

dled manuscript that sat high on the nearby bookshelf. "Ruined. -

Leo scowled. "What the devil has gotten into you?" "In all the excitement, I forgot her words." Beatrice gripped the arms of her chair and pushed herself very slowly to her feet. "Surely not."

"Beatrice?" "Madame Virtue said that Uncle Reggie's mind was affected by the drug she gave him. When she asked him where the Rings were, he said something that sounded like ruin or ruined."

"What of it?" Leo gave her a sympathetic look. "It was the truth. He was dying and he had lost his fortune in the pursuit of the Aphrodite."

"I'm not so sure that is what he meant." Beatrice stood on tiptoe in front of the bookcase and reached for the package that contained the copy of her manuscript.

"What are you talking about?"

"The original title of The Castle of Shadows was The Ruin. My publisher insisted upon changing it because he thought the new title would sell more briskly. He is very fond of titles with the word castle in them.'

Leo straightened away from the desk. A familiar glint appeared in his eye. "Are you implying what I think you are implying?"

"Uncle Reggie had just finished reading a copy of my manuscript. He sent it back to me the very day he made his last appointment with Madame Virtue. What with one thing and another, I never opened the package. I simply put it on a shelf and forgot about it."

"Impossible." But Leo was already halfway across the room.

Beatrice put the package down on a table and gazed at it, hardly daring to breathe. She studied the string that bound the bundle. "Scissors."

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"Scissors." Leo halted, swung around, and went back to the desk. "I saw a pair here somewhere when I searched it the day you went off with Saltmarsh."

"Top drawer." Beatrice could not take her eyes off the manuscript package.

Leo found the scissors and brought them to her without a word. She took a deep breath and snipped the string. The brown wrapping paper fell away to reveal the copy

of 7he Ruin that she had sent off to Reggie. There was a letter on top.

My dear Beatrice:

Another masterpiece. I enjoyed every word of The Ruin. You will be interested to learn that I am at this very moment involved in the middle of a mysterious adventure of my own. If I am successful, I shall find a treasure of untold value.

There is, however, some danger in the affair. As I am not certain how it will end, I have taken the liberty of enclosing the keys to the story inside your manuscript. If all goes well, I shall fetch them from you in a few days' time.

But if something happens to me, I bequeath these relics to you. You are the only other member of the family who will be able to solve the puzzle. Enjoy the mystery, my dear, but use great caution. There are others after the prize. I suggest you contact the Earl of Monkcrest for advice and assistance. He is an authority on this sort of thing.

With greatest affection Your fond uncle, Reggie

"Dear Uncle Reggie." Beatrice put the letter aside. "It is almost as if he had guessed."

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There was something wrong with the way the manu-

script pages bulged. She thumbed through the sheets of foolscap.

A slender package had been stuck between the end of chapter ten and the beginning of chapter eleven.