The Libertine’s Lady (Wanton Wastrels #6)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

London, England

The Christmas merriment was still hanging in the air, the excitement of Boxing Day filling the interior of numerous English households, but at the Theatre Royal in Covent Garden, there was not much to celebrate.

Another murder had taken place, and Cordell Steele had decided it was time for him to intercede.

He generally left most of the routine crimes to the expertise of the Bow Street Runners, the men he used to call his brothers in arms. But when he’d decided to set out on his own as an inquiry agent, that all changed.

They now viewed him as something of a traitor who was trying to put on airs and treat them as inferior investigators.

None of that was true, of course. Was he trying to better his circumstances?

Naturally. But that didn’t mean he considered himself superior in any way.

Granted, he might have gained a positive reputation that put him in touch with the upper echelon of society, but he was still the same man who had grown up with most of these men, toiling and clawing his way beyond an otherwise miserable existence.

He was still working hard to try to make a difference, and right now, he decided, if there was a mass murderer on the loose in London, that was something more threatening than anyone’s wounded pride and the imagined betrayal he’d committed.

“Look who it is, gents. If it ain’t Cordell Steele, renowned inquiry agent for the Crown.”

Cordell was used to the barbs and had long since gotten immune to them. “Always a pleasure, Reynolds. And you shouldn’t listen to the rumor mill. It’s not as if His Majesty reached out to me personally, or that I was invited to the palace for tea.”

“I’m sure you would have gone if you’d had the opportunity,” he ribbed.

With a tolerant smile, Cordell tried to change the subject to something more serious. “The last murder was a week ago, and from what I understand, the killer manipulated the victim in a similar manner.”

Reynolds narrowed his beady eyes. His paunchy frame had gotten a bit thicker over the past few months, but at least he’d kept his wiry beard trimmed.

Thankfully, Cordell wasn’t overly concerned about anything but the chance to see the body before it was taken away by the coroner.

“It seems you’re well informed, Steele.” He spat a stream of tobacco juice to the side and wiped the side of his mouth with his fist. “Come on inside, then.”

Until then, Cordell had been forced to wait outside the theatre until Reynolds had appeared to approve or deny his entry. At least the man was smart enough to remember how adept Cordell was at solving a case. He had an eye for detail, and not much escaped his keen notice.

He followed Reynolds through the rear section of the theatre until they reached the back of the stage.

A grayish-blue corpse lay on the ground with a rope wrapped around her slender neck.

She was wearing a royal blue wrapper and her eyes were open as if still staring at her attacker.

“Holy Christ, does no one have any respect for the dead?” Cordell growled as he walked over and bent down, shutting her eyes to give her some semblance of the peace that had been denied her in her last moments on this earth as her young life was snuffed out.

Clenching his jaw, he turned to another Runner, who was taking notes on a pad. “What else do we know?”

The man eyed Reynolds, who gave a slight nod as Cordell continued to inspect the body. “Doesn’t look to be any signs of forced entry or bruising on the body, which tells us that the victim was either surprised by the attack or she knew the murderer.”

“I would be inclined to agree,” Cordell murmured. “What else?”

“The victim stayed behind after the play because she was planning to meet someone.”

“Who? An admirer? A lover?”

“That is uncertain. All we know is by the time Miss Sims arrived to check on her when she didn’t return to their shared flat, she discovered the body.”

Cordell suppressed an urge to berate the man. He despised neutral terms like “victim” and “body.” It sounded as though this woman had just been an inanimate object and not a living breathing human just a short time ago. “Her name?”

“Miss Geneva Adams.”

Leaning over to grasp a strand of the deceased actress’ light-colored hair, he rubbed it between his fingers and then released it. He rose to his feet as he announced his next move. “I would like to speak with Miss Sims.”

Reynolds took that moment to intercede. “We’ve already spoken with the lady.”

Cordell offered a tight smile. “That may be, but I’d like to speak with her myself.”

He received a disgusted snort in return, but he was led farther into the backstage area where various pieces of equipment lay scattered about. A few dressing room doors lined one wall. One of them was open, and two women were visible, sitting in proximity to each other.

“Miss Sims, if I might be granted another moment of your time—?”

The blond woman immediately stood, her green eyes shining with venom.

“How many times must I be subjected to this circus that your men call an investigation?” she snapped.

“I told you everything I know, and yet you haven’t moved from this auditorium, preferring to stare at Geneva’s body like she’s some sort of curiosity exhibition. ”

Reynolds had the grace to appear properly chastised. Cordell, however, was under no such compunction. He stepped forward, used to the combination of anger and grief from the people he interviewed. “Forgive the intrusion, Miss Sims, but I was the one who requested an audience.”

Her green eyes shot to him. “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m an inquiry agent. My name is Cordell Steele.”

Her expression didn’t change, but there was a slight gasp of acknowledgement from her brunette friend. The latter rose to her feet and grabbed hold of Miss Sims’ dress sleeve. “I’ve heard of him. He works for the Home Office.”

It was not the best time to deny that claim. At least, not until he had the information that he required to find Miss Adams’ killer.

However, Miss Sims wasn’t so impressed by the gossip surrounding his achievements. She crossed her arms. “Is that so, Mr. Steele?”

“It’s true I have assisted on a number of high-profile cases.”

“Then what could possibly interest you about a group of common women who cannot give you anything but their kind consideration should you succeed in your endeavor to find Geneva’s murderer?”

He had to admit that he admired her fierce loyalty to a fellow actress.

He didn’t know how close they had been personally, but something told him this was a devastating blow for Miss Sims. “I can promise you I am seriously interested in this case because it closely resembles another death of an actress which occurred just two weeks ago in Whitechapel. I am eager to see if the victims might be connected somehow and if this could be a growing concern.”

He could almost see the gears turning in her lovely head. “Leave us.”

Reynolds, who had been standing by uncertainly until that point, beat a hasty retreat, but the brunette was a bit more uncertain. “Aislynn, are you sure—”

She gave the woman’s hand a slight squeeze. “I’ll be fine. Go.”

The departing lady shut the door behind her. Miss Sims didn’t offer him a seat, nor did she ask if he might mind if she smoked a cheroot. However, she returned to the bench she’d been sitting on before, and the tip of the tobacco lit up as she took a steady inhale.

“I’m only agreeing to speak with you because I want to know more about the previous victim. Otherwise, I would kindly tell you to take your leave.”

He smiled slightly. “I appreciate your consideration, but as to that case, I’m afraid that is confidential information.”

“Is that so?” She gave a light scoff. “Then I am afraid I cannot assist you with any further insight into Geneva’s life if you will not offer me the same courtesy.”

It had been a long time since Cordell had faced a worthy adversary.

The fact that the one he faced now was a woman came as no surprise.

Over the years, he had known many women like Miss Sims, but whereas she was using her wits and intelligence to negotiate, most of the women from his prior acquaintance had used their beauty and their feminine wiles.

There was no question that Miss Sims could use either if she chose, but he applauded her for her direct approach. It was quite refreshing.

He released a sigh. “Very well, Miss Sims. You win. And since I am sure we would be working towards a common cause in seeing this killer brought to heel, I am willing to divulge certain key factors if you would do the same.” He walked over and sat beside her without an invitation. “Do we have a deal?”

* * *

Aislynn had been mildly surprised when the rather handsome man who’d walked into the theatre this evening introduced himself as Cordell Steele.

However, upon considering the circumstances, she should not have been surprised at all, because his pursuit of criminals around London had become quite renowned.

His name was appearing more frequently in the papers, and although he hunted down thieves and murderers alike, the idea that he might actually care about a small group of stage performers was rather unexpected.

Then again, if he was being honest and there could be a link between Geneva’s death and another unfortunate performer, Aislynn wanted to know.

She eyed him steadily, wondering if she truly could put her faith in him. There were very few men that she allowed herself to trust. But since she was determined to find justice for Geneva, she reluctantly agreed to his terms.

Snuffing out the cheroot, she said, “You are a shrewd negotiator, Mr. Steele.”

He lifted a brow, and Aislynn took particular note of his dark coloring. His hair, his eyes, and his skin all had a particularly agreeable tone. “Thank you, Miss Sims. I take that as a compliment.”