Stephanie Laurens - The Elusive Bride

They all shook their heads.

Royce’s lips tightened. He rose. “Search!”

They did, until the light was gone, but found nothing. They returned to the body, all wondering, rethinking.

Hands on hips, Royce stood looking down at the body, now barely visible. He glanced at Delborough. “The dagger-it looks to be the same sort as the one used on Larkins.”

Crouching, Del inspected the ivory handle, nodded as he rose. “It’s a type the cult assassins use.”

“The letter?” Jack asked.

“Gone.” Royce glanced around at the circle of faces. “No one even vaguely suspicious?”

They all shook their heads. “There were couples leaving, and numerous worshippers heading for evening service,” Tristan said, “but no one was rushing, hurrying, trying to get away. No one glancing around.”

Royce grimaced. They all stared down at the body of Roderick Ferrar. “So,” Royce said, accents clipped, “we have the man we were certain was the Black Cobra, but he’s been eliminated. Leaving us with two very big questions: Who killed him? And why?”

20th December, 1822

Late afternoon

My room at Elveden Grange

Dear Diary,

I have come up to wash off the dust of travel before rejoining the others downstairs. What a day! We are at the end of our adventure, Gareth’s mission is complete, but Ferrar has turned up dead and no one is clear what that means.

Yet even more excitingly, the exigencies of the day put Gareth’s commitment to our partnership to the test-and the dear man came through with flying colors! He let me out of his sight, let me walk into potential danger to do what I alone could in leaving the scroll holder for Ferrar to take, even though, as was later made clear to me in emphatic fashion, the moment cost him dearly. Yet he did not leave me behind at the inn, either, but allowed me to remain by his side as we hunted Ferrar.

After today, I could not possibly doubt the strength of his commitment to our future-a future I cannot wait to address! My heart feels like it’s bubbling, so full of effervescent happiness am I.

But first we have to deal with the unexpected conclusion of Gareth’s mission, and I must rush downstairs to play my part.

E.

S o we’re left with the questions of who killed Ferrar, and why.” Standing before the hearth in the large drawing room of Elveden Grange, Royce glanced up as Emily returned. He’d just concluded relating the events of the day for the benefit of the assembled ladies-Deliah Duncannon, who had arrived with Delborough, Alicia, Tony’s wife, Madeline, Gervase’s wife, Leonora and Clarice, Kit, Jack Hendon’s wife, Letitia, Christian Allardyce’s marchioness, and his own duchess, Minerva, who had, he’d discovered, invited all the families of his ex-colleagues to join their family here for Christmas.

When he’d stared at her, dumbfounded, she’d smiled and patted his chest. “Your timetable runs too close to Christmas-the men can’t be sure of getting home in time, and you all have young families.”

He knew better than to argue. There were battles he could win, and ones he wouldn’t. Such, he’d learned, was the nature of married life.

Those of his ex-colleagues already there and seated about the room had no doubt learned the same. Christian and Jack Hendon were there, ready to, in a few days, play the roles assigned them. The Cynsters and Chillingworth had rejoined them, looking thoroughly pleased. They’d fulfilled their mission, and despite a number of cuts and slashes, none was seriously injured.

“I believe,” Royce said, as Emily settled on the end of the chaise beside the chair Gareth occupied, “that we have to revise our assessment of who the Black Cobra is.”

Delborough nodded. “The Black Cobra is either not Ferrar, or Ferrar was part of a larger whole.”

“I agree.” Gareth frowned. “If the Black Cobra is not Ferrar, then presumably the Black Cobra killed him, or ordered the killing-so that still means the Black Cobra is here, in England.”

“Here in Suffolk, or close by,” Tony said.

After a moment, Delborough shook his head. “Ferrar had to be very high in the cult’s organization. He was vital to the cult’s success through his role in the governor’s office, and given his nature, I can’t see him taking any subordinate position while knowing he was the lynchpin for the cult’s fortunes.” Delborough met Royce’s eyes. “We saw Ferrar giving orders, and the elite guards, including the assassins, obeyed. I’d suggest that all we know favors the notion that the Black Cobra is a group-two, three, or more, we can’t say-but Ferrar was one. Presumably the other Englishman we saw was another.”

Royce nodded. “And that other Englishman, who appeared to be Ferrar’s equal, might have been the one who killed Ferrar, or had him killed.”

“If we accept that the Black Cobra is a multiheaded beast,” Gyles Rawlings said, “then it’s most likely the other members are known acquaintances of Ferrar.”

Royce met Gyles’s eyes, then nodded and glanced at the window, at the dark beyond. “It’s nearly evening, but I believe it’s time we paid the Earl of Shrewton a visit. If we leave now, we’ll be at Wymondham before he sits down to dine.”

They’d brought Ferrar’s body to Elveden in a dray, ready to deliver to his father at Shrewton Hall.

“What about Larkins?” Devil asked. “Did Ferrar kill him, or was it someone else?”

“From what you told me,” Royce said, “it was most likely Ferrar-it was someone Larkins trusted implicitly, so unlikely to be merely one of Ferrar’s friends. However, now that Ferrar’s dead, that’s neither here nor there, but we’ll certainly take Larkins’s body with Ferrar’s-it might help convince the earl that he needs to do whatever he can to assist us.”

There were a number of volunteers eager to help convince the earl, but Royce kept the group to four-Christian, the other most senior peer, and Delborough and Gareth, both of whom could with authority bear witness to Ferrar’s deeds, and those of the Black Cobra, in India.

When Devil tried to insist that he, too, should go, Minerva narrowed her eyes at him. “You”-she waved an imperious finger indicating all the Cynsters and Gyles Chillingworth-“will ride back to Somersham Place immediately. None of you might be seriously incapacitated, but I can see cuts-great heavens! I can see blood -and your wives would never forgive me if I didn’t send you home to be tended. Now .”

Seven large men stared back at her. Minerva didn’t budge, didn’t bat an eyelash.

Nor did the ladies gathered around her, who, as the silence stretched, brought their gazes, too, to bear on the recalcitrant males…until they broke.

With one last dark look, Devil inclined his head. “Very well.” He glanced at Royce, who’d been studying the ceiling. “We’ll see you tomorrow, no doubt.”

“I’ll send word later tonight, once we’ve learned what we can from Shrewton and-I hope-heard from Monteith’s party. They should be at Bedford tonight.”

Devil raised a hand in salute, and led the others out.

Royce followed with Delborough, Gareth, and Christian, bound for Shrewton Hall.

The other members of the Bastion Club and Jack Hendon exchanged glances, excused themselves, and retreated to the billiard room, no doubt to mull over the happenings of the day while knocking balls about the table.

Minerva and the other ladies watched the male retreat with approval. As the door closed behind the last pair of broad shoulders, as one they turned to Emily.