Crunch-crunch.Up ahead, Cedric spotted a marble structure of exquisite beauty rising out of the mist-swirled darkness. Classical columns flanked an arched opening in its center. Set beneath the vaulted ceiling of the semicircular space was a curved wooden bench built into the decorative dark oak paneling.
“Wren understood the exquisite beauty of symmetry,” he murmured, taking a moment to gaze up in admiration before stumbling up the steps and taking a seat.
Stretching out his legs, Cedric released a pent-up breath and watched the moonlight flitter over the tips of his boots. Ivy ruffled against stone. Crickets chirped. From within the dark silhouette of the nearby boxwood hedge, a bird twittered a low, languid night song.
The cosmos was a wondrous place, alive with infinite possibilities and interconnections, he reminded himself, feeling his earlier agitation mellow into a pleasant fugue of wine and the ideas stirred by the scientific soiree.
It was heady stuff—to hear such learned men expound on the idea that scientific discovery involved passion, as well as the mere recording of information. That it demanded poetry, as well as facts . . .
Reason and imagination.Closing his eyes, Cedric felt awarmth pulse through him as he mulled over such thoughts. This was why he had come to London. To be inspired by the great minds of the country’s leading men of science, to be part of new discoveries . . .
A sudden bump, wool against wool, jarred him from his reveries as someone sat down beside him.
“Nicky?” he mumbled, shaking off his lethargy.
In answer, a gloved hand clamped down over his mouth. Cedric tried to pull away, but found himself caught in a viselike grip. Eyes widening in disbelief, he tried to scream, only to have the breath crushed from his lungs as his assailant slammed him back against the oak paneling.
No, no, no! It couldn’t be!
He kicked out—an instant too late, as the steel-sharp knife blade slid between his ribs and pierced his vital organ.
* * *
The cloaked figure held his victim tenderly, letting the warm weight of the senseless body slump against his shoulder as he envisioned the heart shuddering to a stop, the blood ceasing to pulse through the veins.
“Rest easy, my dear Cedric. You won’t have died in vain. This will all be for the greater good, I swear it.”
He waited another long moment, inhaling the mist-chilled fragrances of the night. The clouds had blown off, leaving the black velvet of the heavens alive with a sparkling of diamond-bright stars.
A good omen, if one believes in such signs.
Taking out a large black silk handkerchief from his coat pocket, the assailant calmly wrapped it around the sleeve of his coat, then slowly withdrew the blade from Cedric’s chest. Starlight skittered along the razor-sharp blade as it cut again through the night.
Swoosh, swoosh.The slashes were lightning quick, cutting through fabric and flesh. With a dancer’s grace, he twisted away from the spill of wine-dark blood.
After unknotting the protective silk from his sleeve and carefully wrapping his prize in it, he took another few moments to appreciate the night’s beauty, then rose and walked off, whistling softly.
Crunch-crunch.As the darkness deepened with impending rain, the nightingale’s song quickly swallowed the receding notes of Beethoven’s Third Symphony.
Sinfonia Eroica—the Heroic Symphony.
For tonight was a night for epic heroes.
CHAPTER 1
“M’lady, m’lady!”
Charlotte Sloane looked up from her drawing as two mud-encrusted boys peltered up the stairs and burst into her workroom.
“There’s been another Bloody Butcher murder!” announced the one called Raven in a breathless rush.
“Oiy, and this time the victim’s a titled toff!” piped up his younger brother, who was known as Hawk. “And—”
“And it’s disgusting,” cut in Raven. “Lilly the flower girl said—”
“Said it were so ’orrible the Bow Street Runner puked all over ’is boots,” exclaimed Hawk, tripping over his tongue to be first in revealing the gory details. “Because—”
“Because the Butcher cut off one of the gent’s bollocks!” finished Raven.
