Chapter Eight
Mel couldn’t understandthis man at all. He was angry, yes, but not—or so it seemed—at her deception, but at the risk she had taken. She found herself explaining, which she never did. After all, her choices—and her risks—were her own. It was one of the many benefits of being a widow.
Even so, the words were on her tongue before her mind caught up. “There was a Mr. Blackmore.” She put a slight emphasis on the second syllable in the name. “He died seven years ago. I am a widow. Your father’s steward hit me, yes. I heard the marquess tell him to beat me up, since I had told him nothing and insisted on the full fourteen nights written into the contract we both signed. Farnham managed one blow before I punched him where men are most vulnerable.”
She shrugged. “He should not have waited until we were away from his accomplices before attacking me. I can tell you that I did not let your father know about your many hiding places and your excellent cuisine, let alone about your tunnels. Nor do I intend to do so.”
“Then escape tonight, Mrs. Blackmore. I’m not allowing you to stay here to be killed by his lordship.”
Perhaps a compromise was in order. “I told the marquess I had discovered nothing so far. I pointed out to him that calling me to his presence all the time will make you suspicious, and that I have the remainder of the two weeks to uncover yoursecrets. The marquess has agreed to leave me alone at least until the maids come again, at which time I am meant to send a message to let him know the progress of the investigation.”
A thought occurred to her and she grinned up at Lord Kemble. “You could help me write the message.”
“What is going on here?” Lord Baldwin demanded. “Allan, for how long have you known that Black—Blackmore, I should say—is a woman? Why did you not tell us? And Blackmore, what is your real purpose?”
“Melody Blackmore!” The name burst from Lord Cornelius as if it was a discovery. “Thomasina’s cousin?”
The other brothers turned their attention to Lord Cornelius, and Lord Francis said, “Thomasina, as in your wife?”
“Yes,” said Mel. “In fact, that is one of the major reasons I accepted the position—to find out what happened to Thomasina, and who was responsible.”
Baldwin grabbed Kemble’s arm and repeated his question. “How long have you known that Black is a woman?”
“I only figured it out this morning,” Kemble told him. “It’s in the way she walks. Also, when she woke this morning, she had no beard, then she came out of her room with a shadow asking for water for a shave, and now she is smooth-cheeked again. A lot of little things.”
He narrowed his eyes at Mel, another piece falling into place. “Lady Mnema,” he said.
She hadn’t expected him to make the connection, but she wasn’t going to deny it. “Yes. A friend of mine—you know her as Lady Andromeda—arranged a guest pass for me. I thought going to the club would help me confirm some of my assumptions about you.”
“And did it?” Cornelius asked.
It did, and it also raised new questions. Cornelius, for example. The gossip at the club had him spending every nightwith the same woman—someone known as Lady Opora. Mel had hoped to meet the lady, but she left her assignation with Cornelius and went straight to her carriage.
In fact, except for Lord Kemble—or Lord Apollo, as he was known at the club—and the two youngest brothers, all the brothers had a “regular” romantic connection with a member of the club or an employee.
“What I have observed is that most of you have a reason to defeat your father once and for all, so you can be free to love and to live. And wouldn’t that be better than merely escaping him?”
“How can you trust her?” Baldwin demanded. “She has probably betrayed us. Any moment, the marquess’s men will burst in, or they will be waiting at the mouth of the tunnel, or at the club.”
“I have not betrayed you,” Mel told him. “I am on your side.”
“That is what you say,” said Ernest. “Why should we believe you?”
“There is a way to test it,” Cornelius said. “I haven’t told you, brothers, but Lady Opora, the lady I have been meeting at the club—she is my wife.”
There was silence for a moment, and then Baldwin said, “But you already have a wife.”
Cornelius rolled his eyes and Mel realized what he meant. “You mean, Lady Opora is actually Thomasina, my cousin.”
Cornelius nodded, and Mel sagged with relief. “Thank God. Sheisalive. I have been so afraid for her. I heard one of you tell another that you had helped her escape, but I never expected her to be in London.”
“That makes two of us,” said Cornelius, with a touch of humor. “Imagine my surprise when Hera insisted I meet with Lady Opora privately, and she removed her mask.”
Baldwin shook his head, in disgust, apparently, rather than denial, for he said, “You did not tell us. You did not even tell me.”
Cornelius put an apologetic hand on his brother’s shoulder. “It didn’t seem real. It still doesn’t. But it is time to let you all know, for when we leave, I am going with Thommie.”
Baldwin’s glare faded. In an abrupt move, he hugged his twin. “I am glad for you, brother,” he said. “If we safely can, I should like to see my sister Thommie before we all part.”
