Chapter Twelve
Later that night
Beckham House
Hanover Square
Mayfair, London
Merciful heavens, what if Aunt Georgiana catches me?
After a quiet dinner, she and her aunt had gone into the drawing room, where the older woman worked a bit on embroidery and Caroline attempted to read another chapter in the current book she’d picked up from the local lending library.
Knowing that Felix would pick her up soon to go to the gaming hell, she’d allowed the book to drop to the carpet and then told her aunt that she was suffering from a megrim. Of course, Aunt Georgiana sent her upstairs with her promise that if she felt worse to come into her room and wake her.
Only after Caroline had heard the door to her aunt’s bedchamber close for the night did she spring out of bed and exchange her nightdress for the pile of clothes she’d borrowed from a trunk containing some of Andrew’s old things.
In darkness—for she hadn’t wanted her aunt or maid to see illumination from beneath the door—she’d dressed in the boy’s clothing.
The boots were too big, of course, so she’d stuffed wads of paper into the toes to rectify that a bit.
Once she’d pinned her hair to her head in a tight, high bun and then covered it with a slouch-style cap, she’d sneaked out of her room.
Avoiding the places on the floor that squeaked, it had been slowing going to pick her way down to the main level.
Felix was supposed to wait in the carriage at the pavement so he wouldn’t need to come in.
That would have led to awkward questions and conversations, neither of which Caroline wished to indulge in tonight.
Before they’d parted earlier in the afternoon when she’d told him of her proposed plan, he’d tentatively agreed, but told her to be careful.
She had responded by saying what could possibly happen to her in front of her own house while wearing a disguise?
Now, she stood outside, freezing and shivering in the night air and light snow because breeches didn’t offer as much protection from the elements as skirting with petticoats and stockings.
Oh, she still wore the stockings beneath the breeches along with a pair of thick socks to ensure the boots wouldn’t fall off at an inopportune time.
Where is he? No matter how much she peered up and down the street, there was no sign of Felix’s carriage yet. Perhaps there was traffic.
Distracted as she was, Caroline didn’t see the figure come out of the shadows until a hand went around her throat. The man shoved her up against the front of the house in the darkness between a couple of shrubberies.
Dear God!
Frightened and frantic, she tried to put her hands on the man’s chest to push him away, but his grip on her throat was strong and steady.
Soon, darkness danced at the fringes of her vision, for she couldn’t draw in a breath.
As her heartbeat accelerated, Caroline kicked out at him.
Unfortunately, he was taller than she, and his arms longer, so he easily kept her at arms’ length.
“Leave off with the investigation, Miss Ives.” He tightened his grip at her throat regardless of the fact she made horrible choking sounds. “Lord Withington deserved to die. There is absolutely no one in this world who will mourn his passing.”
Oh, heavens, was this the man who killed the peer?
As fingers of icy fear played her spine, Caroline managed to put her hands to his fingers at her throat, but she couldn’t pry them away.
He pressed a boot upon the top of one of hers, effectively rendering her still.
The only thing she could do while she clawed at his fingers was stare.
He was dressed in a black greatcoat that wasn’t the best quality, and had a black muffler wrapped about the lower portion of his face.
A slouch-style hat, much like the one she wore, had been pulled down low so his eyes were shadowed.
And relentlessly, the darkness continued to creep in on her.
He pressed on her throat as he leaned into her. “If you don’t, you’ll be the next dead body found in London with the major not far behind.”
Without being able to properly draw in a breath and with rampant fear clogging her veins, the strength rapidly left her.
Caroline’s arms fell to her sides; darkness drifted through her vision.
Would she die here, then? Ignobly strangled by a possible criminal in the shrubberies of her father’s house?
She could only whimper in response.
The man pressed his fingers once tighter around her neck, keeping her trapped between him and the wall. “Tell the major to stop the investigation, that finding Withington ’s killer doesn’t matter, else you’ll be dead by tomorrow night.”
The insistent clip-clop of horses’ hooves drifted to her ears, coupled with the rumble of carriage wheels, and she would have wept with relief if she could have, but since she was nearly unconscious, the only thing Caroline could do was pray that the man would let her go.
As a feeling of cold enveloped her body, the man uttered a curse then abruptly took his hands from her person.
Seconds later, he ran across the street, disappearing into the darkness while Caroline slumped against the brick wall.
She tumbled to her knees, and as she tried desperately to draw in breaths, her body shook with violent reaction.
How did the man know who she was in the disguise?
“Caroline!” Then Felix was there, lifting her off the ground.
“What the hell happened? As the carriage pulled up to the curb, I saw you collapse but couldn’t understand why.
” Before she could speak, he bundled her into his arms. His cane fell to the ground.
The comfort and support therein immediately disarmed her, and she broke down in tears while simultaneously trying to gulp in lungsful of air.
“Oh, Felix.” She clung to him while her legs shook.
“The man came out of nowhere. It was as if he was part of the shadows. Before I could do anything, he was choking me.” Burying her face into the crook of his shoulder, she continued to suck in breaths, but her voice was hoarse from being choked.
“He threatened me, told me to pull you off the investigation else we’d both meet the same fate as Withington. ”
Into her ear, he said, “We can postpone the next interview so you can rest in light of this new threat.”
“No.” She pulled back to peer into his face. “We need to continue and solve this case.” It didn’t matter that she had been frightened to her core just now. Being threatened meant someone didn’t want to be found out, and that meant he—or she—was dangerous.
“Very well.” He retrieved his cane. “Come with me.” With an arm about her waist, the major led her to the carriage.
He exchanged a glance with the driver then gave him the address of the gaming hell where they were headed.
Then he assisted her into the vehicle. Once she was settled, he sat on the bench beside her, and then the steps were put up and the door closed.
“I’m sorry you went through that, but I’m damned proud of you for wanting to move ahead despite the obstacles. ”
She nodded. “Perhaps I shouldn’t, but my instinct is telling me we’re getting close and shouldn’t give up even though I’m frightened.”
“I can’t think of a better woman to have by my side right now.
” When he slipped his arms around her and held her against him on the bench, an involuntary sigh escaped her.
“Deductive work isn’t for the faint of heart.
Yet I am sorry that my line of work is putting you in danger. I never meant for that to happen.”
“It’s not your fault. If people wouldn’t kill people, we wouldn’t have such problems.” This incident coupled with the carriage window being shot out indicated that something foul was afoot.
She cleared her throat. “I wish I could have identified the man who attacked me, though, but I was so scared when it was happening.”
“It’s all right, sweeting. We will figure it out, and when I find the man who did that to you, there will be hell to pay.”
The low rumble of his voice soothed the ruffled edges of her soul.
For the remainder of the drive to the St. James Place area, she was quiet.
Her throat hurt, the skin on her neck ached, her muscles felt entirely too shaky.
However, no real harm had been done, and she was more determined than ever to solve this case.
The Elegant Swan
Caroline tried not to call much attention to herself as Felix requested to speak with the owner of the gaming hell as soon as they encountered a majordomo of the place. It was an unassuming townhouse on an unassuming street, with White’s and Brooks’ clubs down at the other end of the neighborhood.
However, that was where the similarities to an ordinary town house ended.
On the way to the main staircase, they passed through a large main room where men clustered about gaming tables with green felt interiors.
Along the edges of the room, smaller tables lined the walls with cards being played and wagered upon.
The low buzz of conversation was punctured by sporadic bursts of laughter or exclamations of victory or defeat. She kept her head down so she wouldn’t accidentally meet a man’s gaze; it was best if she wasn’t identified as a woman so soon in the adventure.
Finally, on the second level, they were shown into an office of sorts that had, at one time, probably been a parlor or a small bedroom. The light of a few candles illuminated the space, and reflected in the glass of a window situated behind a large mahogany desk.
“If you’ll wait here, Mr. Emmett will join you soon.” Then the majordomo exited the room and pulled the door halfway closed behind him.