Chapter 2 #2
He wore a dark blue coat over a deep sable waistcoat, buff trousers, and polished hessians.
Even as a principal officer, he’d worn gentlemen’s clothing, and though he had submitted to his valet’s entreaties to add accessories that marked him as a peer—gloves, for instance—just because he now held the title of viscount did not mean he had changed his nature.
He was still, at his center, a Bow Street officer.
If he could have continued with his post and been viscount, he would not have thought twice about it. Unfortunately, peers did not work.
Hugh stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his attention on the two others standing with him—Lord Grant Thornton and Sir.
But, as if feeling the press of her eyes, Hugh cocked his head.
Then turned and saw her. The corner of his mouth tucked up into a mischievous grin as he came forward to meet her.
His rich brown eyes surveyed Audrey in a way that increased her pulse as he approached.
In that moment, all the restless, barbed irritation causing a friction under her skin vanished.
It seemed Hugh’s presence had been the only thing she required to dispel her muddled and chaotic thoughts.
“Oh, good gracious, what is he doing here?” Cassie muttered as Lord Thornton came toward them as well.
The fourth and final son of the Marquess of Lindstrom was Hugh’s closest friend, and as such, Audrey and Cassie had come to be in his presence quite a bit.
After last summer at Greenbriar, when he’d proclaimed Audrey’s bullet wound to be non-fatal, Cassie had embarrassed herself by embracing him.
Since then, she had progressed from pointedly avoiding the physician to openly expressing her derision for him.
To be fair, Thornton had not tried very hard to change her opinion.
If anything, he seemed to enjoy goading her along in her antipathy for him.
However, Audrey suspected that the pair of them were only using their mutual loathing as a shield against much different feelings.
“Be polite,” Audrey scolded her just before Hugh reached them. He touched the brim of his hat, and she had to hold herself back from doing as Cassie had with Thornton, and throwing herself in his arms.
“Your Grace.” Hugh’s bright tone was as playful as his steady stare. “I had no idea you would be here.”
She tamped down a grin, though not successfully enough. “What a fortunate coincidence.”
From where he stood behind Hugh, Sir groaned.
“Here, here,” Thornton concurred with a roll of his own eyes.
Hugh and Audrey ignored them. He held out his arm, and she settled her hand there. With a nod of greeting toward Cassie, Hugh went on, “Lady Cassandra, I must apologize, I came here entirely alone and have absolutely no one to stroll with you.”
“Very funny,” Thornton muttered. “Lady Cassandra.” He held out his arm to her, though he looked anything but pleased to do so.
She treated the offer in kind. “No need, I have my maid.” Ruth hurried forward to walk alongside Cassie, and then, to deepen the slight just a little further, Cassie turned to Sir. “Is this your first time at Vauxhall?”
Had the boy been wearing Neatham livery, as before, she would not have inquired, as he would appear to be a servant.
However, after returning from Dover, Sir had made some changes.
He’d cast off his servant’s clothing and wore a version of what Hugh wore, but in darker colors and without a neckcloth.
Instead, a tall collar sufficed. He appeared like any boy from Eton or Harrow.
“It is,” he answered, his voice now a steadier tenor than it had been earlier in the year. “Bit overdone, if you ask me.”
He was as tall as Cassie as he fell into step beside her, leaving Thornton to walk behind them. Audrey faced forward, catching Hugh’s amused glance.
“Hello,” he whispered into her ear. The small hairs on the back of her neck and arms prickled.
“You cannot say such things to me here, in public,” she replied, just as softly.
“I said hello.” She leveled him with a look. He winked at her. “Would you rather we speak of the weather?”
“Gracious no,” she laughed as they slowly ambled toward the wooded area of the pleasure gardens. “Do not ever speak to me of the weather, or I’ll be forced to turn you away.”
“Thank you for the warning. I will endeavor to always be interesting.” His arm purposefully brushed more closely against hers. “And while we are speaking of interesting things, I have just come from a meeting that might intrigue you.”
She listened, rapt, as Hugh told her about Lady Rebecca Poston’s visit to his home, and her sister’s missing daughter. As he laid out what both the ladies had said, and why Mr. Silas and Sir Gabriel believed her disappearance to be due to an elopement to the Scottish border, Audrey shook her head.
“I am more inclined to treat it as a mysterious disappearance. Mrs. Silas is correct to worry. If this Mr. Comstock lied to Bethany regarding his false sister, he may have also tricked her into accompanying him here, to Vauxhall.”
Hugh’s frown mirrored the one she felt on her own lips. “I agree, he isn’t to be trusted. Thornton has just informed me that Comstock had his membership at the Seven Sins rescinded. The rumor is that it was due to unprincipled behavior at the card tables.”
Thornton seemed to be one of Hugh’s primary resources when it came to gossip and information.
“Does he know everything about everyone in London?” she asked.
“He could probably write his own gossip column.”
Audrey laughed and hooked her arm a little tighter around his.
She felt a stirring low in her stomach being so close to him and wished they could be alone, just for one moment, so she could kiss him.
It had been weeks since they’d last had the opportunity.
Hugh had paid a call on Michael at Violet House, to where he and Genie had finally moved in March.
It was the London seat for the Duke of Fournier, and it was only proper that Michael would now reside there.
Audrey had remained, of course, but had needed to give up her usual room to Genie, as the attached bedchamber would now belong to Michael.
It had been rather awkward, but there was no bitterness over any of it.
Audrey’s new bedchamber was perfectly adequate, and Genie had kindly refused to take over the smaller study at the back of the home that Audrey so adored.
It was into that study Hugh had slipped the day of his visit to Michael, to discuss some bill being presented in Parliament.
He’d crossed the room, to where Audrey sat on the sofa, reading, and pulled her to her feet without saying a single word.
The kiss had been hot and impassioned, but it had lasted only a few moments before he’d then needed to dash away again.
Her blood had been high the rest of the day.
Now, she longed to rest her head against his shoulder as they walked toward the Cascade, one of the pleasure gardens’ most popular exhibits.
“Sir Gabriel doesn’t want me to investigate,” Hugh said.
“Why would he not want to search for his niece?”
Hugh didn’t answer, but his expression remained pinched.
“But you will still search for her?” Audrey pressed. He wasn’t a man to allow others to dictate his decisions, not even Sir Gabriel Poston.
“I am going to Mr. Comstock’s rooms on Portman Square first thing tomorrow. But I believe we will learn more pertinent information from Bethany’s friend.”
Audrey straightened, her pulse skipping for a new reason. He’d said we. “Are you asking for my assistance?”
“Are you not my partner?” he asked with a sly, sideways glance.
Once again, the ground parted from the soles of her feet. “I am dangerously close to kissing you right here, in front of everyone.”
“That would hasten the gossip along nicely.”
“What can I do?” she asked.
“Your lips on mine should suffice.”
She nudged him. “About Bethany.”
He cut her a roguish grin. “Mrs. Silas mentioned a Miss Gwendolyn Bertram of Fitzroy Square. She doesn’t want a scandal to break about her daughter’s disappearance, but I think we must risk it to discover whatever we can.”
A bubble of excitement expanded within her chest. The last handful of months had been deliriously dull.
After the tumultuous week in Dover, Audrey had been grateful for the reprieve, however she couldn’t deny the heady enthusiasm she now felt at being useful in an investigation.
She’d told Hugh that she wanted to be his partner in everything, and he had not disputed it.
In fact, he’d agreed that they worked well together—and he’d readily acknowledged that her curious ability to hold objects and see what were essentially memories was beneficial to any inquiry at hand.
As Audrey started to plan her outing to Fitzroy Square, to call on Miss Gwendolyn Bertram, she and Hugh neared the wooded area of the gardens that held the Cascade, an artificial waterfall, designed in such a way to trick the eye into seeing flowing water.
The enormous structure was a three-dimensional staged contraption, centered by sheets of painted tin, which were moved by men, hidden from view from the spectators.
With the additional help of gas lighting and sound effects, the shaped tin sheets appeared to be a falls, flowing into a body of water.
Audrey had seen it a few times before, though the scene was changed from time to time to keep from becoming too dull.
Because of the need for gas lamps to reflect off the tin, the Cascade only operated at night, and only for twenty minutes.
During the daylight hours, the entire structure was hidden from curious eyes behind a large screen, painted with the image of the Cascade.
However, as they came upon it now, a thick crowd had gathered in the viewing area.
“What is it they are looking at?” Audrey wondered aloud as she noticed the men and women milling about, craning their necks as if to see something. It was far too early in the evening for the exhibit to open.
Hugh started for the large screen, keeping Audrey on his arm. Behind them, Cassie, Ruth, Sir, and Thornton followed.
“Is someone injured?” Thornton asked. The concerned expressions on those gathered and the low hum of discord indicated some emergency.
When Hugh cleared a path to the front of the crowd, they were met with two men standing guard, one each at the edges of the screen.
Their faces were pale, their mouths taut with matching frowns.
“What is happening here?” Hugh asked the closest one. Both wore dark red frock jackets, buttoned to the neck. Neither wore a hat, marking them as workers here rather than visitors.
“There’s been an accident on the Cascade, milord,” the man replied.
Thornton stepped forward. “I am a physician. Can I be of any help?”
The worker blinked. “Apologies, doctor, but there’s naught you can do. The man’s dead.”
Audrey tensed. “That is awful. Was it a fall?” The last time she’d seen the Cascade it had been a mill scene, with a waterwheel turning and a bridge spanning the flowing water. The structure towered at least thirty feet high.
The worker hesitated, glancing over at his cohort on the other side of the screen. They’d been posted there, no doubt, to keep curious onlookers away.
“I’m afraid not, milady,” he answered.
Hugh lowered his arm, and Audrey released him. “Has anyone sent for the police?”
“We’ve sent for the manager, milord. I imagine he’ll want to call a constable.” He lowered his voice to add, “It don’t look to be a natural death.”
Cassie let out a small gasp. “You mean he’s been murdered?”
Audrey’s stomach cinched tight as she and Hugh exchanged a well-worn look. Her penchant for coming upon dead bodies was a regular source of banter between them, and the way he squinted at her now showed his exasperation.
“I am Viscount Neatham, a former principal officer at Bow Street,” he told the worker, who straightened a bit. “I will have a look, if you don’t object.”
The man hesitated, as if he did want to object, but under Hugh’s practiced stare, he crumbled. “This way, milord.”
He led Hugh behind the edge of the screen. Thornton followed, and Audrey stepped forward, too. But a small, gloved hand grasped her arm. “Where are you going?” Cassie hissed.
“Stay here with Sir and Ruth,” Audrey said, knowing she had but a moment before the worker returned to his post and tried to block her from entering.
She peeled her arm free from Cassie’s clutching grip and slipped behind the screen. The staging for the Cascade loomed before her, and in the shade from the screen and the surrounding trees, it appeared as it truly was—a hulking mechanism—rather than a magical vision.
“I’m sorry, milady,” the worker said as he was returning to his post. “It isn’t decent.”
Having no intention of turning around, she gave him an indulgent grin. “Thank you for your concern, but I won’t swoon. There is, however, a young lady out there who looks about to.”
She said a silent apology to Cassie for the small lie, but when the young man hurried past her to check on the fainting lady, she pressed forward, toward the collection of men near the base of the Cascade.
Hugh saw her approach and arched a brow.
But he said nothing as another Vauxhall employee crouched to pull back the red coat he’d shed to use as a cover for the body.
The first thing Audrey saw was the blood.
A gaping wound on the side of the man’s head made no sense until she realized it was where an ear should have been.
It was now gone. Removed? Her stomach churned, but she refused to cower.
Bruises riddled the side of the man’s face that was visible, and another red gash looked to have been drawn across his neck. The man’s throat had been cut.
“Bloody hell,” Hugh cursed as he crouched next to the body. “No, no, no,” he continued to mutter. He whisked off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair.
Audrey stepped closer to him, her skin prickling with concern. “Do you know this man?”
“Yes.” His voice was barely a rasp. “This is Harlan Givens.”
The name was not familiar to her. Just then, someone appeared at her shoulder. Sir stared down at the man, his eyes like saucers. All color leeched from his face.
“Father?” Sir whispered.
Hugh quickly covered the man with the coat again and straightened his legs. “Sir—”
But the boy staggered away and ran. He darted fast, into the trees.
“Thornton,” Hugh said, and with the single word, his friend hurried off after the boy.
Audrey’s skin flashed over with gooseflesh as she stared at the covered form. “This man is Sir’s father?”
Hugh swore under his breath. “Yes. And he’s most certainly been murdered.”