Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
“If you were working with the charity at Brannon Church with that ridiculously long name,” Maxham said, “then you have indeed heard the rumors that are spreading. You have perhaps heard even more than I. Was Jack’s disappearance the reason for your delightful visit today?”
She ignored his sarcasm and spoke in a neutral tone, not too desperate, not too careless. “I thought perhaps you might have need of my services.”
“We have no need for a tart,” Mr. Norton said scornfully, “nor a scullery maid.”
Her anger flared and she skewered him with her gaze. He was not on the Root, nor the Blood Nectar. A single puncture to his neck would be all she needed to end his life.
Her intentions must have been written upon her face, for Maxham said quickly, “There is no need for violence, Miss Irvine. Mr. Norton, that was quite rude and inappropriate.”
Mr. Norton did not openly defy Maxham, but neither was he humble and apologetic. He gave her a cool look. “I beg your pardon, Miss Irvine.” The insincerity was so acidic she could almost smell it in the air.
She made an effort to breathe deeply before opening her mouth again. “I am certain you realized soon after her death that my sister had taken great precautions.”
Zephyra was gratified to see the flash of annoyance across Maxham’s pale eyes.
“She hid the items most dear to her in several different places,” Zephyra said.
“Dr. Ward was clever enough to unearth everything your sister hid,” Mr. Norton said.
But strangely, Maxham held a hand out to stop him from speaking any further. “I take it you have some of those items?” Maxham asked her.
Here was the time for her to reveal her hand. Her legs trembled, and she set her teacup and saucer on the tray next to her lest they betray her nervousness. “I have her notes and some packets of seeds.”
To her chagrin, neither gentleman responded as dramatically as she had hoped. Maxham’s eyebrows twitched, while Mr. Norton’s face remained passive.
She puzzled over the response for only a few seconds before the realization slammed into her like a runaway cart. “You found her notebooks,” she breathed.
Mr. Norton smirked, but Maxham said in a soothing voice, “It is only a recent development. I am certain your offerings would be quite valuable at any other time.”
His condescension fired her temper almost as much as Mr. Norton’s insults.
“The papers I possess were Bianca’s most recent notes.” Zephyra wasn’t certain if this were true.
She had known her sister’s favorite hiding place was the secret pocket sewn into one of her old gowns hanging in the wardrobe.
After discovering Bianca’s body, Zephyra had had little time to search before leaving the townhouse, but the secret panel in the dress had been the first place she had looked.
“The notes have been quite helpful to me in my own experiments with the Goldensuit,” she said.
In truth, it had been difficult for her to understand the notes at first, for Bianca had merely written down ideas—disjointed, ranging from a new hybrid to questions about what Ward used in the Blood Nectar.
But Zephyra had been able to infer some of her sister’s methods in creating hybrids with the Goldensuit plants, and she had conducted hundreds of experiments in the years since becoming Miss Tolberton.
Mr. Norton regarded her with suspicion while Maxham’s eyes were hooded. “You are able to read your sister’s notes?” he asked.
“Of course.” While Bianca’s handwriting had been terrible, she was accustomed to it and had been able to decipher her scrawlings with ease.
“And what would you like in return for these notes?” Maxham asked.
Mr. Norton exclaimed, “Mr. Maxham?—!”
But Maxham cut his words off with a sharp glance.
With those pale eyes on her, Zephyra once again felt as she had upon first seeing him upstairs, the piercing danger of his attention as it focused solely upon her.
She found it difficult to breathe and tried to swallow.
Finally, she was able to gasp, “I want what my sister had—a place amongst you and Ward. I want to drink the Blood Nectar.”
She had said it aloud. And yet the words did not give her a thrill of anticipation or the tremble of nervousness.
No, something inside of her … recoiled.
Mr. Norton’s hands were clenched so tightly that Zephyra could almost hear his knuckles cracking.
Maxham did not appear surprised at her request, although he did ask, “Bianca told you about the Blood Nectar?”
“She told me a great many things.”
“We should simply kill her and be done,” Mr. Norton growled.
“Kill me, and you shall never find her notes or the seeds.”
“Never?” Maxham drawled.
“Never,” she said with emphasis. “Bianca spoke quite frankly about her suspicions about you, Mr. Maxham.”
His eyebrows rose in surprise, but a faint smile also softened his mouth. “What seeds?”
“Her hybrid, Snow, among others.” Zephyra had tried several times to grow the seeds of the Snow hybrid and had met with no success. Several of Bianca’s other hybrids were similar—although the plants produced seeds, they did not germinate when planted.
Zephyra had been attempting to create the Snow hybrid on her own. With only her memories and the small packet of notes she had taken from her sister’s gown, she had been unable to determine the other plant Bianca used to create the hybrid.
She also kept from Maxham the fact that she had recovered some of Bianca’s plants from her secret greenhouse on Lord Wynwood’s property outside of London.
After finding Bianca and leaving town, she had traveled there and taken as many plants as she could.
She had searched for Bianca’s notebooks, which she suspected had been hidden at the greenhouse, but had not found them.
Without a greenhouse of her own at the time, most of those plants died, and she did not have Bianca’s notebooks to know how to create new ones.
She also suspected Bianca had recorded instructions in one of her notebooks for the cultivation and care of the plants, because they still remained sickly despite the fact she could now grow them in Mr. Tolberton’s greenhouse outside of London.
But the Citadel had recently acquired Bianca’s notebooks. Would they allow her to read them?
They surely held her sister’s notes about how to create Snow as well as her experiments in creating the Blood Nectar. Her sister had said she had been very close to success.
“Despite the fact that Jack is now back,” Maxham said, “I must admit I am intrigued.”
Mr. Norton looked like he wanted to argue, but he held his tongue.
Maxham’s head suddenly tilted upward. “Ah, here is good timing. I was just about to send you to call for him, Mr. Norton.”
Even without extraordinary hearing like her sister, Zephyra could hear Ward’s heavy footsteps as he came down the stairs. His gait somehow managed to sound sulky.
From what her sister had told her about his personality, Zephyra guessed that while he had attempted to appear indifferent to her by returning to his laboratory after seeing her, he had likely begun to feel irritated that he was not included in the conversation.
So he had come downstairs to the drawing room.
Ward flung open the drawing room door as if he owned the house. He looked down his long nose at her, but she caught some wariness in his gaze. “Well?” he asked Maxham. “Is this indeed Zephyra?”
“There is no question about it.”
“What did she say?”
Maxham regarded Ward with some impatience. “I am certain Mr. Norton would be pleased to recount the conversation to you later.”
Ward frowned and his face flushed. Bianca had taken great pleasure in thinking of new ways to cause his color to rise, since he was so sensitive and flushed easily.
Ward took a chair opposite the fireplace, sitting as though it were his throne. “How did you find us?” he demanded of her.
She was tempted to ignore him, especially since his tone was so impolite, but remembering her sister made her also desire to taunt Ward. “I questioned your attorney, Mr. Lander.”
“What?!” Ward jumped to his feet. He then called the attorney a few choice names, repeating himself several times since he could not think of new ones.
Zephyra found her sister was correct—it was quite entertaining to see the various colors of red and purple across Ward’s face.
“Maxham!” Ward said. “Send men to Mr. Lander’s chambers immediately. I wish to speak to him.”
Maxham’s face hardened at Ward’s orders. He apparently did not appreciate being treated like a servant.
Zephyra sat back in her chair with a nonchalant air. “You will find nothing but a great deal of blood, for I killed him.”
Both Mr. Norton and Ward stared at her in shock. Maxham looked somewhat incredulous, but there was also a shadow of approval in his gaze.
Ward sagged into the chair again. “You killed him? Why would you do such a thing?”
“After he gave me the information I requested, I no longer had any use for him.”
“You killed him after he complied with your demands?” Mr. Norton sounded offended for the poor, late Mr. Lander.
“He assisted all of you in stealing my sister’s townhouse and her money from me,” Zephyra said, her words sharp. “Why would I not kill him?”
“The money and townhouse were ours since it had originally belonged to Jadis,” Ward hurled back at her.
“They belonged to Jadis’s widow, and her sister,” Zephyra said through gritted teeth.
“We were in dire need of funds,” Ward said defensively. “And we used the house for meetings. Of course we would not wish it falling into the hands of a young woman who should have been unaware of our existence. And even worse if that young woman sold the house later.”
“It was mine to do with as I pleased. You could hardly have continued to use it for meetings if you wished to retain your secrecy.”
“And why not?” Ward demanded. “The house location was only known to Bianca’s friends, and they knew nothing about us.”