Chapter Eighteen


Ten minutes later Sebastian got into the carriage behind Prudence. He closed the curtains as the vehicle rolled forward. Then he lit the lamp and unfolded the document he had discovered in Bloomfield’s desk.
Prudence sat across from him, huddled deep into her cloak. She watched with keen anticipation as he studied the papers. “Explain it to me at once, Sebastian. I am consumed with curiosity.”
He looked up briefly, frowning in concentration. Then he saw the look in Prudence’s eyes and he smiled. She was enjoying this as much as he was. It struck him again that he had been incredibly fortunate in his choice of brides. No one else except his unusual Prudence would be able to understand how he felt at this moment, let alone share that moment with him.
And she loved him.
“Well, Sebastian? Do not keep me in suspense.”
He returned his attention to the document. “This is a business agreement formed for purposes of making investments in shipping ventures.” He smiled. “The principals of the firm are Ringcross, Oxenham, Bloomfield, and Curling.”
Prudence gave him a quizzical look. “The Princes of Virtue were in business together?”
“Precisely. This agreement is dated three and a half years ago. They sold stock in the company and invested the money in a series of ventures.”
“What has that got to do with the deaths of Oxenham and Ringcross?”
Sebastian scanned the fine legal handwriting, searching for details.
“According to this agreement, if any one of the principals dies, the others would assume his portion of the company.” He looked up. “Following that logic, if three out of the four were to perish, then the last of the four would inherit the company.”
Prudence understood at once. Her eyes widened as she leaped to the obvious conclusion. “Curling.”
“Yes.” Sebastian smiled with cold satisfaction. “Conceivably it could be Bloomfield, but I rather think it has to be Curling. Bloomfield is obviously too disordered in his mind to concoct, let alone carry out, this elaborate scheme.”
“You believe Lord Curling has already killed two of his friends?”
“I think it highly likely. Bloomfield was no doubt next on his list.”
Prudence tapped one gloved finger thoughtfully on the seat beside her. “The first two deaths have raised no questions. Everyone assumed Ringcross’s fall was an accident and that Oxenham’s death was a suicide. It would have been easy to make Bloomfield appear a suicide also. Everyone already considers him mad. Why go to the trouble of trying to implicate Jeremy as the murderer?”
“Because someone might have eventually questioned the convenient deaths of three men who were in business with a fourth,” Sebas¬tian said. “Especially when the fourth became extremely wealthy by taking complete control of the company.”
“So Curling, if he is the one behind the murders, decided to take precautions?”
“That’s the logical assumption. He protected himself by trying to arrange for someone else to appear guilty. He needed to produce a motive for that other person, however.”
“Curling must have discovered that Jeremy was in love with Lillian at one time,” Prudence said. “He realized your cousin had the perfect motive for murdering The Princes of Virtue.”
“He set Bow Street to investigate so that he would appear entirely innocent when it all came to light. Who would suspect the man who had commissioned the investigation?” Sebastian thought about Curling’s behavior the previous night. “Especially when that man has made it increasingly clear that he fears for his own life.”
Prudence tugged her cloak more closely around herself. Her face was shadowed by the hood. “If we’re right in assuming Curling is the killer, then there is another interesting aspect of this investigation to be considered.”
“What is that?”
“We cannot overlook the fact that you were the one who made the inquiries for Whistlecroft. Do you not find it is a rather extraordinary coincidence that the person who conducted the investigation happened upon evidence at the scene of the deaths that implicates a member of his own family?”
Sebastian smiled with slow appreciation. “My dear, there are occasions when I do not know quite which it is that I admire most about you: your cleverness or your passionate response to me in bed.”
“Sebastian.”
“I know, it is a difficult choice. Fortunately for me, I do not have to decide between the two. I am able to enjoy both. Now, then, you are quite correct. We cannot assume that my involvement in this particular investigation was entirely a coincidence.”
“How do you suppose Curling knew about your hobby?”
“If he was able to learn of Jeremy’s affection for Lillian, then he must have excellent sources of information.”
Prudence frowned. “But who could have informed him?”
Sebastian shrugged. “Whistlecroft, no doubt. Although why he gave Curling the information defeats me. Whistlecroft has always been even more eager than I to keep my hobby a secret. He prefers to take full credit for the investigations so that he can collect the rewards.”
“Well, I suppose it does not matter how Curling learned of your interest in conducting investigations. The point is he did.” Prudence shook her head in disgust. “He left evidence implicating poor Jeremy at the scenes of the deaths, trusting that you would find it and identify it.”
“Which I did.”
“I cannot imagine what made Curling believe that you would be eager to see Jeremy arrested for murder.”
“Everyone knows I have no love for my relatives,” Sebastian said.
“Yes, but Curling should have realized that when all is said and done, family is family. He should have understood that you would protect Jeremy.”
Sebastian arched a brow. “My dear, your naivete alarms me ai times. Curling was far more pragmatic than you in his logic. He knew my opinion of the rest of the Fleetwoods and he had every reason to suspect I would not lift a finger to protect any of them.”
Prudence glowered at him. “Do not tease me anymore about this matter, my lord. You know very well that you would never have let Jeremy hang.”
Sebastian smiled at her. “Your boundless faith in my character never fails to amuse me, my dear.”
Prudence gave him a quelling frown. “What are we going to do now? We cannot prove that Curling is behind the murders. So far all we have accomplished is to remove the evidence against Jeremy before it fell into the hands of the authorities. Next time we might not be so fortunate.”
“I think it is time I had another talk with my cousin,” Sebastian said.
“Right now?”
“I cannot envision a better time,” Sebastian said. “It is nearly three. He will no doubt be at his favorite club.”
“I shall come with you,” Prudence said eagerly.
“You will not come with me,” Sebastian said evenly. “You know damn well that you cannot enter a gentlemen’s club.”
“I am aware of that.” Prudence smiled serenely. “I shall wait in the carriage with you until Jeremy leaves the club.”
“Bloody hell,” Sebastian muttered. But there was no real heat in the words. He was learning to recognize a losing battle when he saw one.
They did not have to wait very long in the fog outside the St. James Street club before Jeremy emerged. Sebastian watched his cousin descend the steps and start toward a waiting hackney. He noted with satisfaction that Jeremy did not appear unsteady in his walk.
Sebastian opened the carriage door just as Jeremy went past. “A word with you, Cousin.”
“What the devil?” Startled, Jeremy looked into the darkened carriage. His glance went from Sebastian to Prudence. “What are you doing here, Lady Angelstone?”
She smiled reassuringly at him. “We wanted to speak with you about a very urgent matter, Mr. Fleetwood. Would you mind joining us?”
Jeremy hesitated, clearly torn between good manners and a distinct distaste for Sebastian’s presence. Good manners won.
“Very well.” He got into the carriage and sat down. “I trust this will not take long. I am on my way home. It’s been a long night and I plan to attend a boxing match in the morning.”
“It concerns Lillian,” Sebastian said quietly. He closed the carriage door.
“Lillian?” Jeremy stared at him as the carriage rumbled forward. “Haven’t you already said enough on that subject?”
“I have recently learned how she died,” Sebastian said. “I thought you should know the truth.”
“I don’t understand. I told you that Lillian drowned.”
Prudence touched Jeremy’s arm. “Listen to Angelstone, Mr. Fleetwood. Your beloved Lillian did not drown. She was driven to her death by four terrible men.”
Jeremy gazed at her in astonishment. “I don’t understand,” he said again.
“Neither did we until tonight.” Sebastian relit the carriage lamp. He leaned back into the corner of the seat and quietly told Jeremy the entire tale, including his own involvement in the investigation.
It was just as well he had brought Prudence along, he reflected when he was finished. Jeremy might not have believed him otherwise. But Prudence’s presence and her air of genuine concern lent credibility to the story. Jeremy looked at her several times for confirmation. Each time Prudence nodded soberly.
“It’s true, Mr. Fleetwood,” she said at last. “All of it. I myself helped question Bloomfield.”
“And Curling is the one who is trying to implicate you in the deaths of Ringcross and Oxenham,” Sebastian added. “He deliberately made certain that I would find the evidence that pointed to you.”
Jeremy’s mouth tightened. “Because he thought that you would seize the opportunity of seeing me arrested for murder.”
“Yes.”
“You say you occasionally involve yourself in investigations such as this?” Jeremy looked at Sebastian.
“Yes.”
“But why in God’s name would you choose to do so?”
Sebastian shrugged. “It amuses me.”
Prudence pushed the hood of her cloak back slightly. “Curling miscalculated badly, of course. He apparently did not realize that as the head of the family, Sebastian would not hesitate to protect you.”
“I beg your pardon, Lady Angelstone,” Jeremy said tightly, “but I find that as difficult to believe as Curling obviously does.”
“Nonsense,” Prudence said. “I told you the other day that there is no question of where Sebastian’s ultimate loyalty lies.”
Sebastian regarded her with a hooded gaze. “There is no necessity to go into that right now, madam.”
Jeremy glanced at him and then looked back at Prudence. “Did those four men really abuse my poor Lillian and drive her to her death?”
Prudence nodded sadly. “I do not think there is any question about it. But we will never be able to prove it.”
Jeremy’s eyes narrowed. “I do not care whether or not you can prove it, Lady Angelstone, as long as you are certain of the facts.”
“As certain as we can be.” Prudence looked at Sebastian. “Is that not right, sir?”
“I believe Bloomfield’s tale.” Sebastian watched as Jeremy’s gloved hand curled into a fist. “But I think it will be possible to get confirmation.”
Jeremy’s head turned swiftly toward him. “From whom?”
“From Curling himself,” Sebastian said slowly. He met Jeremy’s eyes. “I suggest that you and I talk to him.”
Jeremy hesitated, searching Sebastian’s face. Then he jerked his chin up abruptly. “By God, yes.”
“It is obviously time to make our plans.” Prudence glanced expectantly at Sebastian. “What shall we do first?”
“First, my dear, Jeremy and I are going to take you home.”
“Oh, no, my lord, you cannot leave me out of this.”
Jeremy frowned. “You cannot possibly come with us, Lady Angelstone. This is men’s business. Isn’t that right, Angelstone?”
“Yes,” Sebastian said, surprised by the vehemence in Jeremy’s voice. “Quite right.”
He braced himself as Prudence opened her mouth to argue. This time he would stand his ground, he told himself.
But to his astonishment, she closed her mouth again without saying a word.
It was nearly four in the morning before Sebastian finally found himself alone in the carriage with Jeremy. They were headed for Curling’s house. Prudence had maintained her unaccustomed silence all the way home, where Sebastian had quickly escorted her inside and sent her upstairs to bed. He knew she would be waiting up for explanations when he got home.
“I shall challenge Curling, of course,” Jeremy burst out as soon as the carriage was in motion.
“Will you?”
“It is all I can do to avenge poor Lillian. When I think of what she must have gone through that night, my blood boils.”
“Risking your neck in a duel will not bring her back,” Sebastian said softly.
Jeremy’s eyes glittered. “I intend to kill him.”
“Are you a creditable shot?”
“I have practiced for some time at Manton’s gallery.”
Sebastian smiled faintly. “Is your mama aware of your interest in the sport?”
Jeremy shifted uncomfortably. “No, ‘course not. She wouldn’t approve.”
Sebastian listened to the clatter of the horses’ hooves on the paving stones. “Tell me, Cousin, have you ever actually engaged in a duel?”
“Well, no, but I’m certain I can hit my target”
“Putting a bullet in a man who is aiming a pistol at your heart is not quite the same as putting a bullet in a target at Manton’s,” Sebastian said quietly. “It requires ice, not fire, in one’s veins. You are too hot-blooded for dueling.”
Jeremy scowled at him. “There are rumors that you have fought one or two duels in your time.”
Sebastian gave him a bland look. “Dueling is illegal.”
Jeremy’s eyes slid awkwardly away from Sebastian’s face. “Yes, sir, I know.” He cleared his throat. “You are accounted something of a legend, sir, as I’m certain you are well aware. You are a man of the world. I would greatly appreciate it if you would give me some hints on the subject of conducting a duel.”
“Your mama would not approve.”
“Hang my mama.” Jeremy’s eyes were suddenly fierce. “It’s none of her affair. I have to do this for Lillian. Don’t you understand? I loved her.”
Jeremy meant every word, Sebastian thought. He made his own decision. “Very well. If it comes to a duel, I shall act as one of your seconds.”
Jeremy was taken aback. “You will?”
“Yes.”
“I say, Angelstone.” Jeremy stared at him in astonishment. “That’s very good of you, sir. I appreciate it.”
“You do realize that if you get yourself killed your mama will blame me. And so will my wife.” Sebastian smiled faintly. “I can deal with your mama, but I do not like to contemplate my future if Lady Angelstone concludes that I did nothing to prevent you from getting yourself shot.”
“I do not intend to get myself shot,” Jeremy said. “The goal is to put a bullet in Curling.”
“No, Cousin,” Sebastian said softly. “The goal is to destroy Curling. Challenging him to a duel is a tactic of last resort.”
“Why?”
“The results would be far too uncertain. He might very well survive, for example, even if you do lodge a bullet in him. Many men do. Trust me when I tell you that there are other, more reliable methods for accomplishing your goal.”
Jeremy watched him as the carriage rumbled down the street. “How do you suggest I go about destroying Curling?”
Sebastian explained the plan he had been formulating since the moment he had discovered the business agreement that bound The Princes of Virtue.
They arrived at Curling’s town house an hour before dawn. The fog was thickening rapidly.
Curling’s butler, disheveled and angry at having been summoned from his bed at such an early hour, answered the door. He sighed at the sight of two gentlemen standing on the doorstep.
“Inform your master that Angelstone wishes to see him at once, Sebastian said.
“His lordship only got in an hour ago,” the butler said. “He won’t like being awakened.”
Sebastian smiled. “I do not particularly care if he likes it or not.
The butler eyed Sebastian’s smile. “Very well, m’lord. If you and your gentleman friend will step inside, I’ll see that his lordship is informed of your presence.” He stalked away.
Sebastian looked at Jeremy, who was rigid with anger and tension. “Calm yourself, Jeremy. Or at any rate, try to give the appearance of being calm. Nothing does more to unsettle the nerves of one’s foe than to appear unutterably amused or even bored.”
“You should know,” Jeremy said dryly. “You’re a master at the art. I’d give a fortune to know how you manage to act so damnably amused or excruciatingly bored in a situation such as this.”
“There is acting talent on my side of the family, if you will recall.”
Jeremy slid him an assessing glance. “There are many who say you are cold-blooded by nature.”
Sebastian thought of Prudence waiting at home. “And one who says I am not.”
The sound of voices at the top of the stairs caught Jeremy’s attention. “Here comes Curling.”
“You will allow me to conduct this interview,” Sebastian said quietly.
“Yes, sir.”
Curling, garbed in a silver gray dressing gown, ran a hand through his hair as he descended the staircase. He had a vaguely irritated expression on his face, suitable to a man who has been rudely awakened, but his eyes were alert and watchful.
“What the devil do you want at this ungodly hour, Angelstone?” He gave Jeremy an unreadable glance. “I do hope this won’t take long.”
“Not long at all,” Sebastian assured him. “Shall we go into the library?”
Curling shrugged and led the way into the small library that opened off the hall. He casually motioned toward two chairs as he went to the brandy table. “Will you join me in a glass?”
“No,” Sebastian said. He sat down in an armchair and hooked one booted foot over his knee in a casual manner.
“No,” Jeremy said in the same cold tone. He stole a quick glance at Sebastian and then he, too, sat down. He was unable to achieve the same degree of ennui in his manner, but it was obvious he was making the effort.
“As you wish.” Curling poured himself a glass of brandy and turned to face them with a shuttered gaze. “Well? What is so important that you felt you must call upon me at this hour?”
“We are here to discuss the recent deaths of two of your business associates,” Sebastian said.
“Business associates?”
“Ringcross and Oxenham.”
Curling swallowed brandy. “What makes you think they’re business associates of mine?”
Sebastian smiled. “A document I found in Bloomfield’s desk. It is obvious by the terms of the agreement that you are now a great deal more wealthy than you were a few days ago. And if you succeed in finding and murdering Bloomfield, you will be even richer.”
Curling went very still. “Good lord, man. Are you accusing me of murdering my business partners?”
“Yes,” Sebastian said. “I am.”
“That’s nonsense.” Curling shot a narrow glance at Jeremy. “Ringcross died in a fall and Oxenham committed suicide.”
“Give it up,” Sebastian said. “I know everything, including how you attempted to implicate my cousin. I would be interested to learn how you came to know that I occasionally conduct investigations for Bow Street, but that is neither here nor there.”
“You are mad,” Curling snapped.
“No. And neither is Bloomfield. At least not entirely. He told me about what The Princes of Virtue did to Lillian.”
Jeremy’s hands tightened around the arms of his chair. “You kidnapped her. Raped her. Drove her to her death.”
Curling turned on him with glittering eyes. “She was nothing but a tavern whore. Her uncle sold her to us for the night. We paid quite well for her services.”
“She was not a prostitute,” Jeremy shouted. “She would never have agreed to go with you. You kidnapped her, you bastard.”
“Rubbish.” Curling’s mouth curved in contempt. “She was nothing but a cheap little doxy with rather pretty legs.”
“You do not even deny it?” Jeremy asked in disbelief.
“Why should I?” Curling asked. “I know a nice bit o‘ muslin when I see one. And as I said, I paid well for her.”
“Damn you.” Jeremy was half out of his chair.
“Sit down,” Sebastian said softly.
Jeremy hesitated and then dropped reluctantly back into the chair. “You raped her,” he accused Curling.
Curling lifted one shoulder in casual dismissal. “I’ll admit that I took a turn on her. She wasn’t very skilled, if you want to know the truth. The old man assured us she was a virgin and I do believe he was right.”
Jeremy stared at him with hatred. “You son of a bitch.”
Curling was amused. “You actually thought yourself in love with her, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I loved her, damn you.”
“And that’s why you killed Ringcross and Oxenham, isn’t it?” Curling concluded coolly. “You thought you were avenging your little tavern doxy.”
“I did not kill them,” Jeremy whispered. “Because I did not know about their guilt. But I fully intend to see you destroyed for what you did to Lillian.”
“Destroyed?” Curling chuckled. “How do you intend to destroy me?”
Sebastian decided he had better take charge again. He had known it would be difficult to rein in Jeremy’s hot-headed nature. “Curling, there is no sense dragging this out. Suffice it to say that I believe you killed Ringcross and Oxenham.”
“You cannot know that for certain.”
“You are the only one who had a motive,” Sebastian countered softly.
“Your cousin had a motive,” Curling retorted. “Avenging his tavern wench.”
“No, he did not, because he did not know about what The Princes of Virtue had done to Lillian until I told him.”
Curling’s nostrils flared. “How can you be sure of that?”
“Let’s just say I am trusting my instincts.” Sebastian rested one hand negligently on his boot. “Not that it matters. If I thought Jeremy had killed Ringcross and Oxenham to avenge Lillian, I would not concern myself with the business.”
“We’re talking about murder,” Curling said swiftly.
“So? They deserved to be murdered. If Jeremy had been responsible, my main concern would be to see that he did not leave any evidence around the next time.”
Jeremy flashed him a startled glance.
Rage glittered in Curling’s eyes. “Damnation, Angelstone. Are you saying that you would protect a Fleetwood from the authorities even if he was guilty of murder?”
“I prefer not to make sweeping statements,” Sebastian said. “I can assure you, however, that I am not going to turn my cousin over to Bow Street because of these particular murders.”
“I cannot believe you would shield a Fleetwood,” Curling rasped. “Everyone knows you hate the lot of them.”
“I will admit I am not overly fond of certain members of my family. But I do not despise them nearly as much as I despise men who kidnap and rape helpless young women.”
Curling slammed his hand down on a table with such force that the vase on top trembled. “She was a tavern wench. Why in the name of hell do you keep bringing her into this?”
“You don’t seem to understand,” Sebastian said. “Lillian is all that matters in this.”
“I don’t believe it,” Curling snarled.
Jeremy’s hands clenched into fists. “I will have justice for her.”
Sebastian realized he was beginning to develop some grudging respect for Jeremy.
“Goddamn it, you can prove nothing, Angelstone.” Curling finished the brandy and flung the glass aside. “Absolutely nothing.”
Sebastian twisted his mouth into another humorless smile. “We do not have to prove anything. You have admitted you bought Lillian from her uncle. You have admitted that you raped her. That is enough.”
“Enough for what?” Curling asked derisively. “No court would convict me of rape. It all happened three years ago and she was nothing but a whore.”
“It is enough for me to insist that you leave London this afternoon. You have another two days to make arrangements to leave England. You are not to return.”
Curling stared at him, stunned. “You are as mad as Bloomfield. Why should I leave England?”
Sebastian met his eyes. “Because if you do not I shall take it upon myself to inform your creditors that the company you have formed with the other Princes of Virtue is insolvent and that the shares are worthless.”
“But it’s not insolvent. The shares are not worthless, damn you, they’re worth a bloody fortune.”
“They will be worth less than the paper on which they are written by the time I’m finished,” Sebastian said. “I have the power and the connections to do it. We both know it.”
Curling shook his head, dazed. “This makes no sense. I don’t understand any of it. You’re trying to banish me from the country because I once tumbled a tavern wench?”
“I believe that at long last, you’re beginning to grasp the situation.” Sebastian got to his feet. “If you will excuse us, my cousin and I must be on our way.”
Jeremy leaped to his feet. He faced Curling. “Make no mistake, Curling. If you do not leave London today, I shall challenge you to a duel. Angelstone has agreed to act as one of my seconds.”
Curling’s eyes instantly narrowed in fresh speculation. He looked at Sebastian. “Ah, now this makes a bit more sense. It would no doubt amuse you no end if I were to kill a Fleetwood for you, would it not, Angelstone? Is that the little drama you are trying to stage?”
“On the contrary, I would find it extremely tiresome if you managed to put a bullet into my cousin.” Sebastian walked toward the door. “Because I would then be obliged to issue a challenge to you.”
“Goddamn you, Angelstone. Why in hell would you challenge me in order to avenge a Fleetwood?” Curling shouted.
“I’m not precisely certain why,” Sebastian admitted. “Something to do with my responsibilities to the family or some such nonsense. I expect my wife could explain it.”

Chapter Nineteen



Sebastian got home shortly before dawn. He heard the distant clatter of pans from the kitchens as he went up the stairs. Even as the day was ending for the high-ranking members of the ton, it was just beginning for their servants.
He slowly untied his cravat as he walked down the hall to his bedchamber. He could feel the familiar tension deep inside. This was the hour he hated the most. It was the time when the new day did battle with the night and neither light nor darkness promised hope.
It seemed to Sebastian that he was most aware of the cold place deep inside himself at this hour. The feeling of being forever trapped in an icy gray fog always seemed strongest at dawn.
But it wasn’t quite as bad as it had been in the past, he realized. He knew it was because he had Prudence waiting for him. After dawn he would be able to lose himself in her warmth. How had he survived all these years without her?
He opened the door of his bedchamber and saw that the room was not empty. Prudence was asleep in his bed instead of her own. Lucifer was curled up beside her. The cat opened his golden eyes and stared unblinkingly at Sebastian.
Sebastian walked over to the bed and stood looking down at Prudence for a moment. Her hair was loose and her night rail had slipped down over one shoulder. She looked soft and warm and forever innocent. Because of her he was no longer completely alone.
He turned away from the bed and went across the room to the small table that held the brandy decanter. He poured himself a glass and sat down in front of the window to wait for the dawn.
Lucifer appeared beside the chair. He leaped effortlessly onto Sebastian’s thigh and settled down to watch the silent conflict through the window.
Sebastian stroked the cat and took a sip of brandy.
“Sebastian?”
“I’m home, Prue.”
He heard her get out of bed and cross the room to stand behind him. She put her hand on his shoulder.
“Is everything all right?” she asked softly. “Did your meeting with Curling go as you had planned?”
“Yes.” Sebastian stopped stroking Lucifer and reached up to clasp her hand. “I believe that he will leave England very soon.”
Prudence squeezed his fingers gently. “I knew you would take care of matters, my lord.”
“Did you?”
“Yes. You are a fine man, Sebastian. I am very proud to be your wife.”
The simple words touched him deep inside, melting more of the ice. “I did it for you, Prue.”
“I believe you would have done what you did for Jeremy, even if you had never met me.”
He did not want to argue with her, so he said nothing. He took another sip of brandy.
Prudence was silent for a moment. “Do you think you will ever be able to sleep at this hour?”
“Never. I hate the dawn. No matter how bright the day, the cold fog is still out there, waiting.”
“It is waiting for everyone, Sebastian. The secret is not to try to face it alone.”
He tightened his grip on her hand. Together they watched the light wrestle with the darkness. After a time Sebastian saw that the fog had turned a much paler shade of gray. The morning had arrived.
Sebastian put Lucifer on the floor. Then he rose from the chair, picked Prudence up in his arms, and carried her to the bed. He drew her close, savoring her welcoming warmth.
The news of Curling’s departure from London did not cause so much as a ripple of interest among the guests at the Brandon soiree that evening. Prudence remarked upon that fact to Sebastian as they stood together near the window.
Sebastian smiled. “There is no reason anyone else should be particularly concerned with the fact that Curling has left Town suddenly. There is nothing unusual about it.”
“Will they show an interest when they hear that he has left the country?”
“Yes,” Sebastian said with cool satisfaction. “That will no doubt draw attention.” He glanced across the room. “I see Lady Pembroke has arrived.”
Prudence lifted her dangling glass to her eyes and spotted Hester. “Yes, so she has.” She waved her fan enthusiastically at her friend. “I wonder if she has lined up any new clients for me. Now that your investigation is finished, it is time I turned up an interesting project for us.”
“I can do with some peace and quiet for a while.” Sebastian narrowed his gaze. “Damnation. Here comes Jeremy.”
“Where? This silly glass is such a nuisance.” Prudence held the fashionable glass up to her eyes again and peered through it. Jeremy was making his way toward them through the throng. He looked eager to reach Sebastian’s side. “I do believe you have become something of a hero in your cousin’s eyes, my lord, just as you have in Trevor’s.”
“I can think of other, far more interesting ways in which to amuse myself than playing hero to young men.” Sebastian downed the champagne in his glass as Jeremy arrived.
‘“Evening, Lady Angelstone.” Jeremy bowed gracefully over Prudence’s hand.
“Good evening, Jeremy.” Prudence smiled at him.
Jeremy gave Sebastian a man-to-man look. “Expect you’ve heard that Curling left Town this afternoon.”
“I heard.”
“He’ll no doubt be on his way to the Continent before long.” Jeremy snatched a glass of champagne off a passing tray. “I suppose that I should be content with seeing him forced out of the country, but I still think the man should be made to pay more dearly for what he did.”
“Believe me, Curling will find it hell to be banished from England,” Sebastian said. “Especially when he realizes that his newfound fortune will evaporate very quickly.”
Prudence looked at him in surprise. “Why will it evaporate? I thought you allowed him to keep the investment company intact on condition that he left the country.”
“I did.” Sebastian smiled his coldest smile. “For all the good it will do him. When word gets about that he has left England and that the only other principal in the firm is mad Bloomfield, the value of the shares will fall swiftly. Within a few months they will be worthless. The company will be forced into bankruptcy.”
Jeremy stared at him. “I had not realized that, sir. You mean Curling will not be able to hold on to his fortune?”
“Not for long. The rumors that Bloomfield is in charge will surely destroy the confidence of the creditors.”
“Excellent.” Jeremy smiled with satisfaction. “So that is what you meant by destroying him. Very clever, if I may say so, Angelstone.”
Prudence grinned proudly. “Angelstone is a very clever man.”
Sebastian quirked a brow at her. “Thank you, my dear.”
Jeremy frowned. “I wonder if Curling is aware of his ultimate fate.”
“I imagine he will comprehend the extent of his punishment soon enough,” Sebastian said. “His bankers will no doubt keep him informed of his falling fortunes.”
Jeremy looked at him in alarm. “Do you think he will attempt to return to England, then?”
“To face a host of furious creditors and the distinct possibility of being thrown into debtors’ prison?” Sebastian asked. “I sincerely doubt it. But if he does, we will deal with the problem.”
“So it’s finished.”
“I believe so,” Sebastian said.
Prudence chuckled. “I do hope the two of you are aware of the stares you are drawing.”
Jeremy grinned. “I know. People are not accustomed to seeing Angelstone chatting in a friendly manner with the members of his family. Oh, by the by, that reminds me, sir. I told Mama that you saved me from being arrested for murder.”
Sebastian choked on a mouthful of champagne. “Bloody hell. I trust you did not tell her the entire tale.”
“Of course not,” Jeremy said seriously. “I knew she would have fits if I told her everything. I explained that everyone knew about the feud between you and the rest of us and that a murderer had attempted to capitalize on that information in order to cover his own tracks.”
“What else did you tell her?” Sebastian asked ominously.
“Only that you had used your power to make certain Bow Street would take no interest in me.”
“Hmm.”
Prudence saw the blurry outline of a familiar figure forging through the crowd. She raised her glass to her eye again. “Speaking of Mrs. Fleetwood, here she comes now.”
“Good lord,” Sebastian said. “Am I going to be obliged to spend the entire evening in the company of my relatives?”
“I’m certain Mama only wishes to apologize to you, sir,” Jeremy assured him.
“No doubt that is exactly what she intends.” Prudence fixed Sebastian with a warning look. “The least you can do is be gracious, Angelstone.”
Sebastian smiled grimly. “If Aunt Drucilla actually undertakes an apology, I will eat my cravat.”
Drucilla came to a halt in front of Sebastian. “There you are, Angelstone.”
“Yes, madam, here I am. What of it?”
“Behave yourself,” Prudence hissed under her breath.
Drucilla ignored the byplay. She glowered at Sebastian. “My son tells me that you have done your duty by the family regarding a certain matter that might have become potentially embarrassing.”
A familiar unholy amusement sprang to life in Sebastian’s eyes. “You may rest assured, madam, that Jeremy is in no immediate danger of hanging.”
“I should hope not. He’s a Fleetwood, after all. No Fleetwood has been hung since Cromwell.” Drucilla snapped her fan closed in a crisp, elegant gesture. “Jeremy also tells me that you were not the one who was attempting to implicate him in the deaths of those two men.”
“Jeremy explained that to you?” Sebastian asked.
“Yes, he did.”
“And you believed him, madam?”
Prudence drove her elbow into his ribs and smiled at Drucilla. “Angelstone is teasing you, madam. As you know, he has a very unusual sense of humor.”
“Ouch.” Sebastian gingerly fingered his ribs. “I am not laughing now, madam,” he said through his teeth.
Drucilla gave Prudence a quelling glance. “Really, my dear, that sort of foolish play is hardly suitable to the ballroom.”
“I wasn’t playing,” Prudence murmured. She was aware that more and more heads were starting to turn.
Prudence could feel the anticipation rise like a surging wave all around her. She could also feel Sebastian readying his next taunting remark to his aunt. She prayed for deliverance and it arrived in the shape of Hester.
Having apparently decided, along with everyone else in the room, that social disaster was looming, Hester made a bold bid to forestall it. She gave Prudence an anxious glance and then turned to Drucilla with an affected start of surprise.
“Oh, hello, Drucilla,” Hester said. “Didn’t see you standing there. How are you this evening?”
“I am fine, thank you, Hester. I was just about to speak to Prudence about her gown.”
“Lovely, isn’t it?” Hester said, delighted with what seemed to be a safe topic. “That particular shade of lavender is all the rage at the moment, you know.”
“It makes her look like a washed-out dishrag,” Drucilla said. “And all those ruffles are perfectly ridiculous on her.” She frowned at Prudence. “I see you have not yet found a new modiste.”
Prudence felt herself start to turn pink. She glanced helplessly at Sebastian, but he showed no signs of offering assistance. “No, madam, I have not had time. But I intend to do so at the earliest opportunity.”
“There is no help for it, I shall have to introduce you to mine,” Drucilla said grandly. “I do believe she might be able to do something with you. You have possibilities.”
Prudence’s heart sank. She was acutely aware of the gleam in Sebastian’s eyes. She managed a polite smile. “That is very kind of you, madam.”
“Someone’s got to take you in hand. You are the Countess of Angelstone, after all. It seems I shall have to take it upon myself to educate you. Certain things are expected from the wife of the head of the family.”
“Yes, of course,” Prudence said weakly.
“I shall arrange to go shopping with you at the earliest opportunity.” Drucilla turned on her heel and sailed off through the crowd.
Hester fluttered her fan with an air of excitement. “Dear me, Prudence, she may have a point. Now that I consider the matter, I’m not at all certain lavender and violet are particularly flattering on you.”
“You’re the one who chose these colors,” Prudence said, thoroughly disgruntled.
“Yes, I know, and they are extremely fashionable. Nevertheless, I feel we should bow to Drucilla’s expertise.” Hester examined Sebastian’s austerely elegant black and white attire. Then she glanced at Jeremy, who was equally striking. “The Fleetwoods do have a certain natural instinct for style. You may as well take advantage of it.”
Sebastian smiled blandly at Prudence. “Quite right, my dear. Put yourself in my aunt’s hands and do not concern yourself with the cost. No price is too high to pay to see how you fare on a shopping expedition with her.”
Prudence scowled at him. He knew very well she was already dreading the experience. “Don’t you dare laugh at me, Angelstone, or I shall do something drastic, I swear I will.”
“You must forgive me, my dear.” Sebastian’s eyes held the devil’s own mirth. “But it would appear that a whole new world of entertainment is about to open up for me.”
“Really, Sebastian.”
“You were the one who wanted peace in the family, madam wife. Well, you’ve got your fondest wish. It will be vastly amusing to see you deal with the old witch. I beg your pardon, I mean with Aunt Drucilla.”
Jeremy grimaced. “Mama means well, Lady Angelstone. But I fear she has a very strong notion of family responsibility.”
“I’m sure she does,” Prudence said dolefully.
“As do you, my dear,” Sebastian said smoothly. “The two of you should get along famously.” He started to laugh.
Prudence glared at him. Sebastian merely laughed harder. He did not even have the decency to stop when everyone in the room turned to stare.
Prudence looked pointedly at Jeremy. “Would you mind very much dancing with me, Jeremy? If I remain here with Angelstone I shall no doubt disgrace myself by kicking him in the shin.”
Sebastian gave another shout of laughter.
Jeremy glanced curiously at Sebastian. Then he grinned and held out his arm to Prudence. “It will be my pleasure, madam.”
“Thank you.”
It was only after she had taken the floor with him that Prudence realized she had inadvertently given the ton something else at which to marvel. Every eye in the room was now on her.
“People are staring at us.”
“Can you blame them?” Jeremy chuckled as he swung her into a waltz. “The Fallen Angel’s lady is dancing with a member of the Fleetwood clan. Furthermore, there is no indication that the devil is about to unleash his wrath against me in retaliation. He is too busy laughing his head off at a joke no one else can comprehend.”
“They will think Angelstone has lost his wits,” Prudence said. “And they may be correct.”
“It will be all over Town by morning that the Fleetwood feud is finished,” Jeremy mused.
“I suppose being taken in hand by your mother is not too high a price to pay for ending the feud,” Prudence said, trying to be optimistic.
“Don’t be too certain of that.”
Prudence was still grumbling about the forthcoming shopping trip an hour later when Sebastian escorted her out into the cold, foggy night.
“It is most annoying, Sebastian. Back home no one ever remarked upon my clothes. Here in Town I do not seem to be able to please anyone. And what am I to do with the wardrobe I ordered when Hester took me in hand, I ask you?”
“Give it away, I suppose.” Sebastian signaled for his carriage. The Angelstone coach was nowhere to be seen amid the crowd of vehicles that filled the street in front of the large house.
“To whom?”
Sebastian’s mouth tilted. “To someone who looks good in shades of violet and lavender.” He took her arm and started impatiently down the steps. “Come along. It will take another twenty minutes for the carriage to make its way through this press. We may as well walk to it.”
“Very well. I certainly don’t care to stand out here for long. It’s quite chilly tonight.” At least she had worn a cloak this evening, Prudence thought. Sebastian had insisted upon it.
It was difficult to tell one coach from another in the heavy fog. The black Angelstone carriage was waiting at the end of a long line of vehicles. A footman in the familiar black and gold Angelstone livery appeared to open the door for Prudence.
Something about him seemed different. She glanced up and realized she did not recognize him. Before she could raise her glass to her eyes for a closer look, she heard Sebastian swear softly.
“Who the devil—”
A soft, sickening thud cut off his words. Sebastian groaned. Prudence whirled around as she felt him release her arm.
“Sebastian.” Instinctively she reached out to him as he crumpled to the pavement. But he was too heavy for her. She went down on her knees beside him. “Dear God, Sebastian, what’s wrong?”
A man loomed up out of the fog. His face was a blur, but Prudence had no difficulty seeing the large blunt object in his hand.
“Don’t you worry yerself none, ma’am. He’ll be all right. I knows me job. Get on with ye, now. Into the coach. I’ll put his nibs in there with ye.”
Prudence rose swiftly, her mouth already open to scream for help. A rude male hand was instantly clamped across her lips, silencing her.
“Shut yer bloody mouth, yer ladyship,” the strange footman hissed in her ear.
Prudence started to struggle. She kicked out wildly, but her movements were severely hampered by the heavy folds of her cloak. The other villain grabbed her ankles. She realized there were three men in all, including the coachman.
“Behave yerself or it’ll be the worse for yer man,” the false footman muttered. “We’re in a hurry, ye know. Ain’t got all night. Me and me two mates promised to deliver ye on time. Don’t get paid unless we do.”
Prudence glanced desperately up at the box as she was bundled into the carriage.
“Get ‘em inside,” the man on the box said in a voice that definitely did not belong to Sebastian’s regular coachman. “We ain’t got all night.”
Prudence’s captors tossed her onto the floor of the carriage. There was a small, sharp crack that she recognized at once as the sound of her dangling eyeglass shattering beneath her cloak.
She floundered about, trapped in the folds of the garment.
“No sense wearin‘ yerself out,” one of the men said gruffly. He reached into the carriage and hoisted Prudence onto one of the seats. “Best save yer energy. Expect me client’s got plans for a pretty little thing like you.”
The man wearing the Angelstone livery stuffed Sebastian’s limp body into the vehicle. Sebastian sprawled facedown on the floor. He did not move.
Prudence gazed at him in horror, trying desperately to see if there was blood on his head or if his eyes were open. It was impossible to tell. Even if she had been able to get to her spectacles in her reticule, she knew she would not have been able to see how badly Sebastian was injured. The interior of the carriage was very dark.
The villain in the Angelstone livery jumped into the carriage and sat down across from Prudence. There was just enough light for Prudence to see the pistol in his hand.
“Well, now, reckon you and me will have to find somethin‘ to talk about for the next hour or so, ma’am. Yer man ain’t goin’ to be in the mood fer conversation for a while.” He nudged Sebastian’s still body with the toe of his boot.
“Don’t touch him,” Prudence said.
“Don’t worry, he’ll be in reasonably good shape when I deliver him to Curling Castle. That was the deal I made with his lordship, y’see. Both packages to be delivered in good shape.”
Prudence could hardly breathe. “You’re taking us to Curling Castle?”
“That’s where we’re headed, right enough. This damn bloody fog will slow us down somewhat but not much. Jack up there on the box is real good with the reins. I reckon we’ll get there in no time.”

The black chamber was every bit as cold as Prudence had remembered. The dark, heavy chill seemed to have a life of its own. It emanated from the stones themselves, not from the night air outside the castle walls. Like the fog, it shrouded everything in the room.
Prudence turned her head. The men who had brought her and Sebastian here a few minutes ago had left a single candle burning on the table. The flame was of little use against the oppressive shadows that filled the chamber.
She lay very still on the bed, listening to the sound of retreating boots in the hall. A small sense of relief washed over her. The kidnappers had departed.
She sat up stiffly. Her hands and feet were still bound, but at least the villains had not gagged her. Not that she intended to start screaming now, she thought. The last thing she wanted to do was summon one of her captors.
Chains clanked against stone.
Prudence raised her head swiftly and peered into the shadows. “Sebastian? Are you awake?”
“Bloody hell.”
The surly sound of his voice revived her spirits as nothing else could have done. “They put you in those awful manacles on the wall.”
“I noticed.” Chains scraped lightly on stone again, as if Sebastian was quietly testing them. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” Prudence managed to sit up on the edge of the bed. “What about you?”
“I feel as if I’ve gone a hundred rounds with Witt himself, but other than that I seem to be in one piece.”
“You’ve been unconscious for a very long time. I was terribly worried about you.”
“I wasn’t unconscious, just dazed.” Sebastian sounded coldly furious now. “I couldn’t seem to move for a while, at least not quickly enough to take that pistol away from the man in the carriage. I decided to bide my time.”
“We’re at Curling Castle,” Prudence offered.
“Believe it or not, I figured that out all by myself.”
Prudence frowned. “There’s no need to get sarcastic. I was just trying to help you orient yourself.”
“I beg your pardon, madam. I am not in the best of moods.” Chains rattled again. “Damnation.”
“What’s wrong?” Prudence asked.
“What isn’t wrong? This entire investigation has been wrong right from the beginning. Bloody hell.”
“I mean what’s wrong right now?” Prudence said patiently. “Why are you swearing?”
“Because I can’t get quite the right angle on the locks of these manacles. I need to be a few inches higher.”
Prudence brightened. “You’re trying to pick the locks?”
“Yes.” Chains rattled softly. “Damn it to hell.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“See if that chamber pot I saw under the bed last time is still there,” Sebastian said.
“A chamber pot? Don’t you think you can restrain yourself for a little while? We’re in something of a hurry here, Sebastian.”
“I need the damned pot to stand on so that I can get the wire into these locks,” Sebastian said through his teeth. “If you find it, try to kick it over here.”
“Oh. Yes, of course.”
Chagrined, Prudence scooted off the bed. Unable to use her bound hands or legs to control her descent, she landed with a thud or her knees. “Ow.”
“Hurry.”
She bent down and looked beneath the bed. The fuzzy outline of the chamber pot was just barely visible in the deep shadows. “It’s there.”
“Get it over here,” Sebastian ordered.
That was going to be easier said than done, Prudence thought. But there was no point complaining about the difficulty of the task. She had the uneasy feeling that their lives might very well depend on her getting the chamber pot out from under the bed.
She lay on her side and wriggled partway under the iron bed. It took three attempts before she successfully hooked her bound ankles around the pot.
“Got it,” she whispered.
“Push it over here.”
“I’m trying.”
Prudence tried three different positions before she finally rolled onto her back and used her feet to guide the pot.
“I feel like a worm.” She inched the pot along the cold stone floor.
The process seemed to take forever. She was perspiring in spite of the terrible chill. She heard her delicate silk skirts shredding against the stone.
“A little closer, Prue,” Sebastian said softly. “You’re almost here.”
She wriggled forward and pushed the pot ahead a few more inches.
“I have it,” Sebastian said with soft triumph. He caught the chamber pot with the toe of his boot and dragged it closer.
Prudence sat up and watched as Sebastian stood on the overturned pot. She squinted, trying to see what he was doing.
“That’s it, love,” Sebastian crooned softly. “Give me what I want. Open for me, sweet. Let me inside. All the way inside.” There was a small snick of sound. “Yes. Ah, yes. Beautiful.”
“Did you get it open?” Prudence asked.
“One of them. One more to go.”
The second lock went much faster. Sebastian was free a moment later.
He stepped down from the pot and went to work on the ropes that bound Prudence’s hands and feet. She realized she could feel nothing at all in her upper arms.
Then the feeling began to come back.
Prudence bit back a scream as a painful tingling sensation swept through her arms. She stuffed a handful of the cloak into her mouth and bit down hard.
“Christ. I should have realized.” Sebastian began to rub her arms swiftly. “Hold on, Prue. You’ll be all right in a minute. Can you feel my hands?”
She nodded, not yet daring to spit the fabric out of her mouth. She was still hovering on the edge of a scream.
“Good.” Sebastian sounded relieved. “That means they didn’t bind you too tightly. You’ll be fine.”
Prudence was not so certain of that. But after a short while she was no longer afraid she would cry out if she moved her arms. She let Sebastian pull her to her feet.
“My God,” she whispered.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” Sebastian said. “We can’t wait any longer.”
“I know.” Prudence took a deep breath. She looked down at the broken lens of her glass dangling on the end of the fashionable velvet ribbon. It was useless. Her tiny beaded reticule was still attached to her wrist, however. She opened it and discovered her spectacles safe inside. The wire frames were bent, but the glass was undamaged. She pushed them quickly into place on her nose.
“I’m ready,” she announced.
“You are an amazing female, my dear.” Sebastian grabbed her hand and hauled her toward the door.
Prudence heard the footsteps in the hall at the same instant that Sebastian heard them.
“Hell and damnation.” He stopped. “Is nothing going to go right tonight?”
Prudence felt his fingers tighten again around her wrist. He jerked her over to the wall on the far side of the door.
“Don’t move,” he whispered.
She pressed herself against the stones. Sebastian strode swiftly across the room and scooped up the chamber pot. Then he flattened himself to the wall alongside her.
The door opened. A man with his hands tied behind his back stumbled into the chamber. He was given a push from behind that sent him reeling. He lost his footing and fell.
The candlelight flickered on Garrick Sutton’s face. His eyes met Prudence’s in the shadows.
Before she could react, one of the men who had kidnapped her and Sebastian stepped into the room. He was holding his pistol in one hand.
“Well, now, that’s that, then,” he announced in tones of satisfaction. “A job well done, if I may say so.”
Then his gaze fell on the empty bed. Prudence saw his eyes start to widen as he glanced at the dangling manacles. “What’s this? They’ve escaped.”
He opened his mouth to yell for assistance.
Sebastian took one step away from the wall and brought the chamber pot crashing down on the villain’s head. The pistol fell and skittered under the bed.
The man sank to the floor with no more than a groan. He did not move.
Sebastian looked down at Garrick. “This certainly complicates matters.”
“Sorry about this,” Garrick said ruefully. “They were waiting for me when I left my club.”
“Untie him,” Sebastian said to Prudence. “I’ll get the pistol. At the rate we’re going, we shall undoubtedly need it.”
But before Prudence could move, the door of the massive black wardrobe swung wide. Lord Curling stood there, a pistol in his hand. Behind him yawned the black opening of a hidden staircase. Prudence belatedly recalled the false back Sebastian had discovered in the wardrobe. Now she knew what had been concealed behind it.
“Pray do not move so much as an inch, Angelstone.” Curling stepped down from the wardrobe. “Or I shall put a bullet into your lady.”
Sebastian froze. “This has gone far enough, Curling.”
“Not quite.” Curling beckoned to Prudence. “Come here, my dear.”
Prudence did not move.
Curling’s eyes narrowed. “I said, come here. If you do not, I may change my mind and put the first bullet into your precious Fallen Angel.”
Prudence walked forward reluctantly. As soon as she was within reach, Curling put an arm around her throat and pulled her against him to use as a shield.
“There, now,” Curling said. “This is much better.”

Chapter Twenty


Sebastian fought for his self-control. The urge to throw himself at Curling in a mindless rage was almost overpowering. The sight of Prudence being held hostage sent a shock of wild anguish through him. He knew such ungoverned emotion would be lethal if he did not master it.
“What do you hope to accomplish, Curling?” Sebastian forced himself to use the bored tone of voice he had perfected so well.
Curling’s smile was thin with menace. “You know what I intend to accomplish. Did you really think I would allow you to banish me from England and destroy my fortune?”
“Your fortune?”
“Do not pretend ignorance. You know very well what I’m talking about.” Curling’s arm tightened around Prudence’s throat. “I’m not a fool. I know what will happen to my business affairs if I leave England. The investors will assume that madman, Bloomfield, is in charge. There will be panic. The company will go bankrupt in no time if I am not here to take command.”
Sebastian shrugged. “A possibility, I suppose.”
“Goddamn it to hell. You know that is exactly what you intended,” Curling snarled. “Did you really think I’d let you get away with it? I had everything carefully planned and I am not about to let you ruin those plans.”
Garrick stirred on the floor. “This is all my fault, isn’t it?”
Curling did not bother to glance at him. He kept his gaze on Sebastian. “You can take some of the credit, if you like. I needed information on Angelstone, you see. Everyone talked about how much he hated the rest of the Fleetwoods, but I was not so certain how deep his hatred went.”
“You mean you didn’t know if I would use my position to protect my cousin if he were implicated in murder?” Sebastian asked.
“Precisely,” Curling said. “I could never figure out why, if you hated your relatives so much, you had not already used your power to crush them.”
“You did not comprehend,” Prudence said in her most admonishing tones, “because you knew that if you had been in Angelstone’s position, you would have long since crushed the family.”
“Exactly.” Curling’s eyes were still on Sebastian. “I needed to know more about Angelstone’s motives and how he would react if I proceeded to use Jeremy Fleetwood in my scheme.”
“So you got me drunk and pried the information out of me,” Garrick said in a tone of savage self-disgust.
“It was an easy enough task,” Curling said. “And extremely rewarding. You assured me that Angelstone would be quite happy to see any one of his relatives rot and that he would probably find it vastly amusing to see one actually taken up for murder. Then you let slip a most fascinating tidbit.”
Garrick swore in despair. “I told you about his hobby, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did.” Curling smiled slowly. “You told me all about Angelstone’s very interesting little hobby, including the name of his Bow Street contact.”
“Damnation.” Garrick glanced at Sebastian. “I don’t remember any of it, Angelstone. I swear to God, I don’t. I was drinking so heavily in those days. There’s so much I cannot recall from that time.”
“I know.” Sebastian did not take his attention off Curling. “It makes no matter now.”
“I altered my plans accordingly,” Curling said. “I decided it would be ideal to have Angelstone actually conduct the investigation. He would be certain to recognize the evidence I intended to use to implicate his cousin.”
“An interesting precaution,” Sebastian said softly. “Bow Street might have overlooked the items found at the scenes of the crimes, or failed to properly identify them. I assume you were also the one responsible for leaving the message in my carriage the night of Oxenham’s death?”
“Of course.” Curling frowned. “I wanted you to be the first on the scene so that you could find the evidence against your cousin. I needed young Fleetwood rather badly, you know.”
“Because you knew you could not murder your three partners and assume complete control of the company without drawing attention to yourself as a suspect,” Sebastian said. “One death, perhaps even two, might have been accepted as accidents. But three deaths would have been hard to explain, especially when you so clearly profited from them. You needed to be able to produce someone else who had a motive to kill those three men.”
“Your cousin was perfect,” Curling said. “He had a motive which only I knew about but which he would be unable to deny in a court of law. I had planned to reveal everything about Lillian’s death, you see. After all, I had nothing to hide. The stupid wench jumped out of a window while I and my friends were having a bit of sport with her.”
“You would have testified that my cousin, who was in love with her, discovered the facts surrounding her death years later, blamed The Princes of Virtue, and set out for revenge,” Sebastian said.
“Precisely.” Curling shrugged. “It would have appeared that I was fated to be his last victim, but fortunately he was caught in time.”
“And just to make certain he would look guilty, you provided evidence at the scenes of the murders that incriminated him,” Prudence concluded, scorn dripping from her words. “Lord Curling, you were very stupid, indeed. You actually thought you could use Angelstone to help you carry out your scheme?”
“It seemed a reasonable assumption.”
“Hah.” Prudence gave a disdainful sniff. “You know nothing about my husband.”
Curling’s jaw tightened. “From what I was told and from the gossip that has always followed him, I assumed Angelstcne would be only too happy to use the evidence against his cousin.”
Prudence’s eyebrows came together in a fierce line above her spectacles. “You were much mistaken in my husband’s character, weren’t you?”
Sebastian saw Curling’s arm tighten a little around Prudence’s throat. “Uh, Prue—”
“Angelstone knew his duty to his family and he did it,” Prudence continued, undaunted.
“Silence,” Curling ordered. “You are beginning to annoy me, Lady Angelstone.” He used his grip on her throat to give her a warning squeeze.
Sebastian winced.
“You were wrong about Angelstone,” Prudence squeaked. “Everyone was wrong about Angelstone.”
Sebastian started to worry that Curling would lose his temper and casually choke Prudence to death. “That’s enough, Prue.”
She blinked at him. Something she saw in his face made her fall silent.
Sebastian arched a brow. “I have been curious about one thing, Curling. How did you come to find out that my cousin cared for Lillian?”
“I have known from the beginning.” Curling chuckled. “Lillian’s uncle told me that the Fleetwood boy fancied himself in love with the girl. But the old man was pragmatic. He knew damn well the Fleetwoods would never allow the precious heir to marry a tavern wench, so he sold her to me instead.”
“What did you do after the girl died?” Sebastian asked.
Curling shrugged. “I told her uncle that she had drowned and compensated him for his loss, of course. I gave him enough money to ensure that he would keep any questions he might have had to himself.”
Sebastian folded his arms and leaned against the iron bedpost. “You won’t be able to get rid of the three of us tonight without raising a few questions.”
“On the contrary,” Curling said softly. “This will all work out very nicely, I think. I shall tell everyone that during the course of a small weekend house party here you discovered your new bride in the arms of your best friend.”
“How dare you,” Prudence gasped, outraged. “I would never betray Angelstone.”
“I believe I understand, Curling,” Sebastian said coolly.
“It’s simple enough.” Curling looked amused. “You will use a pistol on both your wife and your best friend. When I arrive, pistol in hand, to see what is happening, you come at me. I am forced to shoot you dead in order to save my own life. A suitable ending for the Fallen Angel.”
“It will never work,” Garrick said quickly.
“It will work.” Curling leveled the pistol at Sebastian. “Now, then, I am afraid you must be the first to die, Angelstone, because you are the most dangerous. Sutton will go next.”
Sebastian readied himself. He would have to launch himself straight at Curling and hope that the first shot went slightly wide. If his luck held, the bullet would not bring him down immediately. All he needed to do, Sebastian thought, was stay on his feet long enough to reach Curling.
“Bastard,” Prudence yelped. She clutched the remains of her shattered eyeglass. “Don’t you dare shoot Sebastian.”
Curling smiled. “You might be interested to know that I shall delay your passing until dawn, Lady Angelstone. You see, I have been very curious to know just what sort of female could keep the Fallen Angel amused in bed. Tonight I shall find out.”
Sebastian saw Prudence raise her hand upward toward the arm that Curling had wrapped around her throat. He realized what she intended to do.
Prudence raked Curling’s arm with the jagged bits of glass that had once been her fashionable eyeglass.
Curling yelled. He instinctively released his grip on Prudence and grabbed at his arm. Blood spurted between his fingers. ‘You little bitch.“
Prudence darted out of reach.
Curling swung back to confront Sebastian, but it was too late.
Sebastian was already moving.
Curling tried to bring the pistol back in line, but there was no chance. Sebastian lashed out with his foot and knocked the weapon from Curling’s hand.
He went in quickly. He smashed his fist into Curling’s jaw. The blow sent Curling staggering back toward the tower windows. They must have been unlatched, because they banged open under the impact.
Wind howled into the chamber. The candle flared and went out, plunging the room into almost total darkness. The windows shuddered heavily on their hinges.
Sebastian started forward. There was just enough light to discern the outline of Curling’s figure as he crouched in front of the window. The wind screamed into the room.
“No,” Prudence shouted above the roar of the wind. “Sebastian, wait. Stay away from him.”
It was the shattering sense of urgency in her voice that stopped Sebastian. He glanced back over his shoulder. He could just barely see the pale shape of her face. He realized she was staring past him.
Curling screamed. It was a keening, mind-numbing sound of fear.
“My God,” Garrick whispered.
Sebastian whirled around. Curling was still screaming.
“Stay away from me,” Curling yelled. But he was not talking to Sebastian. He was looking toward the bed, his hands held out in front of him as if he would ward off whatever he saw there. “No, stay away from me. Stay away from me.”
Fascinated dread gripped Sebastian. He watched the dark shape that was Curling edge backward in a crablike fashion until he was pressed against the window ledge.
“It’s you,” Curling gasped. He climbed up onto the windowsill and stood in the opening. “It’s you, isn’t it? No, don’t touch me. I never intended for you to die. Don’t you see? You were the one who chose to jump. You didn’t have to do it. I only wanted to have some sport. You were just a tavern wench… Don’t touch me.”
Curling shrieked and recoiled from something only he could see. He toppled backward through the window and fell into the blackness that was waiting for him.
His scream pierced the night for what seemed an endless time.
Then there was silence. Absolute silence. Even the strange wind that had sprung up out of nowhere suddenly ceased. Outside the window the fog resettled itself like a shroud around Curling Castle.
Sebastian realized that no one, including himself, was moving. He took a deep breath and shook off the paralysis that had held him in thrall. He turned and went swiftly across the chamber. He groped for the candle. It took him two tries before he managed to light it.
When the flame finally flickered into life it was strong and steady. Sebastian turned toward Prudence, expecting to see stunned shock in her eyes.
She was standing in the middle of the room, her brows drawn together in a thoughtful expression. She did not look like a woman who had just seen a ghost.
“Does it strike you, Sebastian, that it is not nearly as cold in here now as it was earlier?” she asked.
He stared at her. “Yes,” he heard himself say very softly. “It is much warmer in here now.”
Garrick struggled to a sitting position and grimaced with pain. He glanced at the man lying on the floor. “There were three of these villains. All hired from the stews for the night. This one sent the other two back to London after they were paid.”
Sebastian hefted the pistol. “Then they will not be a problem for us tonight.” He went to the window and looked down. The fog swirled, providing a brief glimpse of Curling’s boots on the stones below the tower.
“We’ll have to rouse the magistrate,” Garrick said.
“Who’s going to tell him about Lillian’s ghost?” Prudence asked.
“I think we’ll leave the ghost out of it,” Sebastian said. “I, for one, never actually saw her. And neither did either of you.”
“No,” Garrick said, sounding relieved. “I never saw anything resembling a ghost.”
“I’m not so certain of that,” Prudence said. A look of speculation appeared in her eyes. “I believe I may have witnessed some significant evidence of spectral phenomena.”
“I believe you are mistaken, my dear,” Sebastian said. “This is my investigation and I am the one who will discuss it with the magistrate. And I saw no ghost.”
Prudence’s brows rose. “As you wish, my lord. I cannot help but notice, however, that the curse Lillian placed on The Princes of Virtue has come true. All four of them have been destroyed, one way or another. Even Bloomfield has paid a price for what he did to her.”
Sebastian started to argue and then thought better about it. There was no denying that for all intents and purposes, Lillian had been avenged.
It was nearly three in the morning before the explanations had been made to the local magistrate. Mr. Lewell was a large, bluff man who took his duties seriously. He seemed deeply awed at finding himself dealing with an earl. He asked very few questions, which was just as well because Sebastian had decided to alter a few facts to suit his own purposes.
As he had explained to Prudence and Garrick, there was no reason to drag Jeremy into the matter at this juncture. And no way to prove that the deaths of Ringcross and Oxenham had been anything other than what they had appeared, an accident and a suicide.
“So Curling committed suicide.” Lewell shook his head when Sebastian had concluded the tale. “Well, he was an odd one. There have been rumors of some strange doings up at the castle from time to time.”
“Is that so?” Sebastian said politely.
“Aye. Servant gossip, you know; nevertheless, one wondered. There was a young girl who went missing a few years ago. Some said that Curling and his friends had…” Lewell let the sentence trail off into thin air. “Well, that’s neither here nor there now. The man is dead.”
“Quite dead,” Sebastian said.
Lewell nodded sagely. “I regret to tell you that he will not be missed around these parts.”
“Because of the strange doings up at the castle?” Sebastian asked.
“Not exactly,” Lewell admitted. “Curling, I fear, was in the habit of bringing his fancy friends up from London at every opportunity. Unfortunately for the local shops, he brought his supplies along with him. Claimed he couldn’t get good quality in the village. Never spent so much as a penny here.”
“I see.” Sebastian smiled.
When the interview was over, Garrick opted to spend what remained of the night at a nearby inn. “My head hurts too much to even contemplate a carriage ride. I’ll make arrangements to return to Town tomorrow. What about you two?”
Prudence patted away a wide yawn. “I could fall asleep right where I stand.”
Sebastian looked at her. He wanted to take her home, where he knew she would be safe. He wanted to put her into his bed, where he could hold her so close that nothing, not even a ghost, could take her away from him. He wanted to protect her, shield her, keep her next to his heart for the rest of his life.
“You can sleep in the carriage on the way home,” he said quietly.
“Of course, my lord,” she said equably.
It did not take Sebastian long to make the arrangements. Half an hour later he and Prudence set off for London in a hired post chaise.
“I do believe the fog is beginning to lift.” Prudence yawned delicately once more and adjusted the carriage rug over her knees. “We should make good time, Sebastian.”
Sebastian put his arm around her and drew her against him. He gazed out into the night. “We shall be home by dawn.”
“Very likely. It has all been terribly exciting, but I vow I cannot keep my eyes open another minute.” Prudence nestled into the curve of his arm.
“Prue?”
“Umm?” Her voice was thick with impending sleep.
“I wish I could have introduced you to my parents. They would have liked you very much.”
“I wish you could have met mine,” she whispered. “They would have been most pleased to have you for a son-in-law.”
Sebastian struggled to find words for what he wanted to say. He probed warily inside himself, testing the deep, hidden place that had been frozen for so long.
The ice was definitely gone, he realized, but he was still uneasy about looking too closely at the place where it had been. It was like trying to peer through the fog outside the carriage. He was not certain what he would discover. The fear of finding nothing at all where the cold had been made him hesitate.
“I did not take very good care of you tonight, Prue,” he said finally. “Things will be different in the future.”
She did not respond. Sebastian looked down and saw that her lashes were closed. She was sound asleep. He was left to wonder if she had even heard him.
They made excellent time. When the carriage halted in front of the town house, Sebastian lifted Prudence out and carried her straight upstairs. He put her carefully into the bed. She did not awaken when he got in beside her.
Sebastian gathered her close, and for the first time in four years he fell sound asleep before the first gray light of dawn had appeared.


A month later Sebastian pushed aside a journal of accounts that he had been perusing, stretched out his legs, and leaned back in his chair. Lucifer rose from the back of the sofa, bounded onto the desk, and strolled across a pile of papers. He jumped down into Sebastian’s lap.
Sebastian glanced at the ormolu clock as he stroked the cat. “She’ll be home any minute now and we shall see what my aunt has done to her.”
Lucifer curled his tail around himself and rumbled in response.
“I hope my poor Prudence has survived the experience.” Sebastian smiled. “She was certainly dreading it. Put it off as long as she could, you know. But in the end Aunt Drucilla got her.”
Lucifer twitched his ears and gave another rumbling purr in response.
A few minutes later the loud commotion in the hall announced Prudence’s return from the shopping expedition.
“Ah, here we are.” Sebastian watched the door expectantly. “I’ll wager my aunt has done her over in emerald greens and deep yellows.”
The library door opened abruptly and Prudence rushed into the room. She was still wearing the heavily flounced lavender gown she had left in earlier. Her bonnet, a ridiculously oversized concoction decorated with massive lavender flowers, flopped wildly. Behind the lenses of her spectacles, her eyes were alight with excitement.
“Sebastian, you will never guess what has happened.”
Sebastian dumped Lucifer on the floor and rose to greet his wife. “Please be seated, my dear. I am curious to hear all the details of your shopping trip.”
“My shopping trip?” She gave him a puzzled look as she perched on a chair.
“Perhaps you will recall it if you try very hard. I believe you left a little more than three hours ago in the company of my aunt.” Sebastian sat down again. “You were going to be redone from head to toe.”
“Oh, yes. The shopping trip.” Prudence took off her bonnet and tossed it to one side. “I believe it was quite successful. Your aunt seemed very pleased, at any rate. I hope you like green and yellow because I fear I shall be wearing a great deal of it.”
Sebastian smiled.
“But that is not what I wanted to tell you about.” Prudence smiled with satisfaction. “I have got us another client, my lord.”
Sebastian stopped smiling. “Bloody hell.”
“Now, Sebastian, you must not take that attitude. Perhaps I should make it clear that this will be one of my investigations. I shall be looking into a matter involving spectral phenomena. I thought you would enjoy assisting me this time.”
Sebastian eyed her warily. “I do not want you taking any risks, madam, and that is final.”
“If you are worrying about your heir, you may relax.” Prudence patted her still-flat stomach. “I am certain he is made of sturdy stuff. He will take no notice of a ghost or two.”
“Now, Prue—”
“Calm yourself, my lord.” She smiled serenely. “There will not be any risks at all. This is a matter involving a very old family ghost. Apparently it has been seen of late at the Cranshaws’ country house. They would like me to verify whether or not it actually exists.”
“And if it does?”
“Why, then, they would like me to find a way to get rid of it.
Apparently it is terrifying the staff. The Cranshaws have been forced to hire three new maids and a new cook in the past two months. That sort of turnover among one’s staff is very annoying, Mrs. Cranshaw tells me.“
Sebastian heard the anticipation in her voice. He saw it sparkling in her eyes. He was also ruefully aware of the familiar sense of controlled excitement bubbling to life deep inside himself. “I suppose there would not be much harm in conducting a small investigation.”
“None at all,” Prudence agreed cheerfully.
Sebastian got to his feet again and stalked over to the window. “You are quite certain this is merely a matter of spectral phenomena?”
“Absolutely certain.”
“There is no question of murder, mayhem, or criminal schemes here?”
“Of course not.”
“There is absolutely nothing of a dangerous nature involved?” he persisted.
Prudence chuckled indulgently. “Really, Sebastian. It’s perfectly ridiculous to even think that this investigation could involve any dangerous criminal activity. We are talking about a very old ghost.”
“Well,” Sebastian said cautiously, “I suppose it will be all right for you to look into the matter. I shall, of course, accompany you. It will give me an opportunity to observe your methods.”
“Of course.”
He smiled. “It might be somewhat amusing.”
“I hoped you might find it so, my lord,” Prudence said demurely.
She was laughing at him, he thought. The little baggage had known that he would be as intrigued as she was by the opportunity to investigate another interesting puzzle. She knew him too well. Hardly surprising, he reflected. She was, after all, the other half of himself.
Sebastian gazed out into the sunlit garden. “I have only one stipulation to make before I agree to pursue this investigation with you.”
“Yes, my lord?”
“I want you to tell me again that you love me,” Sebastian said very quietly.
One could have heard a feather drop in the silence that ensued. Sebastian held his breath. He steeled himself and turned slowly around to face Prudence.
She was on her feet, her hands clasped in front of her. Her eyes were very bright and a little wary. “So you did hear me that night.”
“I heard you. But I have not heard you say those words again. Have you changed your mind?”
“No, my lord. I have loved you since the moment I met you. I shall love you all the days of my life.” She smiled wistfully. “I did not say the words again because I thought perhaps you found them at best merely amusing.”
“Knowing that you love me is not a source of amusement.” Sebastian realized that his hands were shaking with the force of the emotion that was pouring through him. “It is my salvation.”
“Oh, Sebastian.” Prudence flew into his arms.
“I love you, Prue.” He crushed her close. “Always. Forever.”
It was safe, after all, to look into the dark place inside himself that had once been so very cold, Sebastian thought. It was not empty, as he had feared. Love filled the part of him that had been locked in ice for so long.
He held Prudence very close for a long time. Her warmth poured into him, filling him completely.
“There are a few small details about our next investigation that I should perhaps mention,” Prudence mumbled at last into his shirt.
“Details?” Sebastian raised his head.
Prudence smiled her most winning smile. “Well, according to my client, there is some question of a diamond necklace that has recently gone missing.”
“Diamonds? We’re talking about missing diamonds? Now, hold on just one minute, here. It has been my experience that where there is a question of missing jewelry, there is likely to be a question of foul play.”
Prudence cleared her throat with a discreet little cough. “Well, apparently there have been one or two indications—small ones, mind you—that someone may have attempted to search the Cranshaws’ house.”
“Damnation, Prue, I said nothing dangerous this time.”
“I’m sure there is nothing in the least bit dangerous about this investigation, my lord. Just some rather intriguing elements that I know will amuse you. I would not wish you to become bored.”
Sebastian smiled wryly. “You think you can wrap me around your little finger, don’t you, my sweet?”
“Just as you can wrap me around yours.” She stood on tiptoe and put her arms about his neck. “I think, my dearest Sebastian, that you and I were meant for each other.”
He looked into her glowing eyes and felt the warm fires of love burning inside himself. “There is no question about that.”
He threaded his fingers through her hair and covered her mouth with his own. He knew he would never again be cold.







The end