The Iron Heart Page 6

  This would be the perfect opportunity to capture him alone in a room for a few minutes and plead her case. Better. More vehemently. She needed his help. If her device idea wasn’t good then he could come up with something else. He clearly had the skill and the intelligence.

  Bennett did not want to help her. It wasn’t that he thought it couldn’t be done. Or that he didn’t think he was capable. He did not want to do it. But why?

  Damn it, she’d not let him go until he told her why.

  “You know, Uncle, I believe I have changed my mind.”

  She hurried into the alley, her head down. Wisps of yellow hair, tucked beneath a wrapped shawl, streamed around the edge of her face. Petite like the others, the girl clutched her wrap tightly to her chest.

  Perhaps she was pretty. It was difficult to discern with the goggles over his eyes, but he must not remove them.

  Anticipation slithered through him then seized his heart.

  She moved closer.

  No!

  But the foolish girl rushed further into the path of a beast. She didn’t look around her, made no moves to check if she was followed. Determined to reach her destination, she skirted her way around fallen objects and under a cracked stone arch.

  Then she vanished.

  Chapter Seven

  Bennett woke from his nap, thrashing. Blankets twisted about his legs, pillows scattered. Head pounded.

  Or was that the door?

  “Jenkins, is-is that you?”

  “Yes, my lord, you asked that I wake you at the top of the three o’clock hour.”

  “Ah, yes, thank you.”

  Bennett untangled himself from the blankets and sheets. He sat on the edge of the bed and waited for his heart to slow. But would it ever?

  He stood and opened the curtains, hoping the light would chase the nightmares from his mind. Instead he saw his S2 Flyer in the rear yard where he’d left it early this morning.

  He leaned his head against the cool glass, but it didn’t stop the heat burning down the back of his neck.

  Had there been another attack? Or had he dreamt it in a delirious and desperate attempt at sleep?

  His hands shook as he brought them to his hair. He was going mad. Day after day it became harder for him to discern reality from dreams, certainty from fantasy. No longer did he wake screaming from the memories of the fire or Hugh’s injuries. Now he woke with haunted visions of blood on his hands.

  Bennett glanced down at them to be certain. They shook as he turned them over to examine his palms.

  Good Lord, he must put an end to this. But so far everything he tried had failed. He had failed.

  Bennett inhaled a sharp blast of air into his lungs. He could not afford to sleep or pity himself all day. He was responsible for this house and all who worked in it. He was a man of duty and held to that with every ounce of power he possessed. He would be nothing if he could not hold up his obligations.

  He’d be his brother.

  Bennett withdrew from the window, dressed, and descended the stairs to his study.

  He sorted through the mail mindlessly until his gaze landed on the paper now in his hand. An invitation to a ball hosted by Lady Westerling. The woman knew he could not refuse. But that didn’t force him to a lengthy stay. He would make an appearance, greet the other guests and before the first dance, he would be out the door and off into the night.

  His only problem: a woman who distracted him from a crucial purpose and teased him with her enchanting allure.

  Ella Wilder.

  Ellie stared at the piece of paper in her hand. She’s written down the four girls who’d been attacked: Jenny, Rosemary, Sarah and now another girl. Clara had come to her shop earlier in the day and relayed much of the same story Sarah had. She’d been attacked, but had managed to get away.

  Next to their names, Ellie wrote the locations of their attacks. Then the time of day.

  The only consistency, other than appearance, was the time of day. Otherwise, he moved districts. Two he could kill, two he couldn’t. There wasn’t any distinct length of time between the attacks either. He waited six months after Jenny, then attacked days apart.

  It all seemed futile. And, yet, she couldn’t give up. No. Another girl could die at any time.

  Ellie pushed the paper aside and pulled out every small gear, spring and frame. Despite what Bennett insisted, Ellie still believed this monster could be defeated. By having a weapon in their hand, more girls could distract him and then squirm away from his grasp. She only needed to devise the right weapon, reproduce it, and distribute it to as many girls who fit the image as she could.

  Simple.

  Shadows crept up the wall and across the mess scattered on the bench. Hours after she began, Ellie had nothing more than a small rectangular box with a gear that twirled and dug into the skin when the button was pushed, but would not do a great deal of damage. It was something. But not enough.

  Blazes. She just did not have the advanced skill required for this type of intricacy.

  Only two men had the expertise to help her. One who was too fragile to withstand the task, and one who refused due to arrogance.

  Ellie would do whatever it took to make certain that self-important noble couldn’t refuse.

  The evening of Lady Westerling’s ball, Ellie spent several hours at Hilltop Hall readying herself. Finally happy with a gold-colored dress and hair twisted atop her head, she thanked the servant girls and descended the stairs. With the fullness of the ball gown she couldn’t fit comfortably in the Lightrider and so resigned herself to taking one of the family’s carriages.

  “Ah, there is my Ella.”

  Ellie halted and forced herself not to cringe at the sound of her mother’s voice.

  “You look so beautiful, dear. Come let me see you.”

  Without a response, Ellie turned on her heel and went into the parlor. She’d learned throughout the years that she’d be away from her mother quicker if she acquiesced rather than rebelled.

  The priceless vases and jewel-encrusted statues mocked her from their perches. She wasn’t one of them. Her gown and style were only facades to aid in her cause. Within twenty-four hours, Ellie would be back in Lundun toying with the gears in her uncle’s shop. Or producing her next edition of The District Guardian.

  Lady Halswitch, Ellie’s mother, rose as her daughter entered. The woman, still tall and regal, had very few strands of grey in her honey-colored hair. She was slimmer than Ellie, with slender hips and petite breasts. Not at all the short and curvy woman her daughter was.

  One more thing Ellie hadn’t lived up to.

  She held out her hand and smiled. “My true daughter has returned.”

  Ellie bit the inside of her lip. Don’t take the bait. Don’t respond. Keep the conversation neutral. “I must get going, Mother. The ball starts shortly.”

  “Of course, of course.” She waved a long-fingered hand. “And I’m glad to see you are taking one of the family carriages instead of that flying contraption you have.”

  Resistance crumbled. “Only because my dress won’t fit in it.”

  “Well, that’s just as well, then. And look at you! You have no jewelry. You can’t go looking like a pauper. Let me fetch you my diamonds.”

  “No. This dress is—” more than fancy enough. But, as usual, Lady Halswitch gave no regard to her daughter’s opinion and sent a servant for the treasures.

  Walk out the door. She could end this game she and her mother played by just walking out the door now. But what was the point? She knew her mother well enough that if she were to go, her mother might very well arrive at the dance with the jewels in her hand.

  It wasn’t worth the humiliation.

  The clock on the wall rang off the top of the hour. Oh, hurry up! There wasn’t much time before most guests would arrive and she needed to see Lady Westerling alone before the party got under full swing.

  “Mother, I—”

  The servant returned with a velvet-lined
box. Her mother sorted through the gems and baubles. She didn’t ask Ellie her opinion, which was just as well since Ellie didn’t have one.

  At long last, Ellie was festooned with heavy gold and diamonds on her ears, a ring of gigantic proportions, and a bracelet which would buy a Lundun family food for a month.

  After another “so lovely to see you like this” Ellie was out the door and into the carriage. She’d have snatched off the jewels and stowed them away, but the only thing worse than not wearing them would be to have them lost or stolen. And so she was stuck with the damn things for the rest of the night.

  Luckily, not too many guests had arrived at the ball once Ellie got to the large stone estate house. She found Lady Westerling immediately.

  “Why look at you, dear!” the old woman gushed. “All dolled up for my party.”

  Ellie smiled. “Only because it is required of me.”

  “Oh pshaw, look at me!” And, indeed Lady Westerling had outdone herself in a sweeping black skirt, white frilly blouse and a wide leather belt. Her many gold necklaces hung from her neck down past her bosom and her leather gloves stretched up to her elbows. The only thing missing was her goggles. Those she replaced with thick eyeglasses.

  “Well, my mother would not have it if I left the house in anything other than my finest gown. She even insisted on her best jewelry.”

  The old woman laughed. “She is determined to catch you a man, albeit the old-fashioned way.”

  Ellie touched Lady Westerling’s arm. “Speaking of ‘a man’ I wonder if you have a few moments to speak with me in private.”

  Large blue eyes immediately went wide. “Of course! Follow me.”

  Ellie followed her into a small ante-room with only a chair, table and a tall shelf of books. A gas lamp flickered on at the snap of a button on the wall.

  “So, my dear lady, what is it you need from me?”

  “You remember our last Syndicate meeting? And I spoke out about a girl being killed?”

  Lady Westerling nodded, although her eyebrows knitted in confusion.

  “I had been right. A girl was killed, but Barrington wanted me to keep it silent. He was worried about panic and chaos.” She was betraying her word to Bennett, but he wouldn’t help her. She couldn’t count on him.

  “Well, there have been other attacks since then. Two. And luckily both girls have gotten away.”

  The old woman gasped.

  “The latest happened in your district.”

  “No!”

  Ellie nodded.

  “Why did I not hear of this?”

  “The young girl came to me since she knew I had visited the first. She said the constable is no help.”

  Lady Westerling began pacing the small room, hands on her hips. “This is just terrible. We can’t have this. We can’t have this at all. I won’t have young women being hurt.”

  “I agree and that’s why I’ve come to you. I need your help.”

  She stopped. “Whatever you need. How can I help?”

  Ellie held her breath, allowed the tiniest flicker of hope to bloom.

  “I-I want to create a mechanism, a small weapon of sorts, to deter this attacker. Many would be made so that all young women would carry it on their person.”

  “Excellent idea!”

  “Except that I haven’t the skill to create it.”

  Lady Westerling’s left eyebrow went up. “Your uncle does.”

  Ellie’s lungs tightened. An immense knot formed in her throat and she glanced away. “I cannot ask him for that. He is not strong enough. His daughter—my cousin—was the first one killed. It was many months ago, but his pain is still too great.”

  “Oh dear. I had no idea.”

  “And so I have reached out to Bennett for assistance. We have all seen his inventions. He clearly has the skill for something like this. And yet he refuses.”

  “Ah. Does he know of your cousin’s death?”

  Ellie shook her head. Sharp tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. “I can’t tell him. He has already rejected these latest events as the workings of a different attacker. I can’t bear to share that type of anguish and have him then dismiss me.”

  “I see.” A gloved hand settled on Ellie’s arm. “What are his reasons for not wanting to help?”

  “He says it is pointless. That a woman cannot escape from this madman and so it is a waste of time.”

  “But you just told me that two have.”

  “I know. As I said, he believes it is a different attacker. I swear the man has a heart made of iron.”

  “Hmm.” The old woman crossed her arms. “Here’s what I think. I think he believes it is actually a good idea, but he thinks too highly of himself to admit that. He is a loner and doesn’t want you to need him for anything. He also thinks you are quite intelligent and that frightens him.”

  Ellie felt her mouth drop open. “How…where did you get those ideas?”

  Lady Westerling grinned. “I have four boys, my dear. I have learned how their silly minds work. And now I can help you get what you want from Lord Barrington.”

  “What must I do?”

  “You must think like a man. You may not like my suggestion, but I can just about promise you it will work. At the heart of any man are two basic needs: food and lust.”

  “But…”

  “Women have their own power, my dear. Use it to your advantage. That is, unless you haven’t any desire for the man. Then you would be lying.”

  A blush stole across Ellie’s cheeks. She spent far too much of her time alone thinking of Bennett, imagining his hands skimming down her skin, his lips brushing over hers. And after that day in his bedchamber, she’d often fall asleep remembering the sight of his nearly naked body.

  The old woman beamed. “That’s what I thought. Just follow my instructions and in no time he will do whatever you require of him.”

  Chapter Eight

  Bennett took every precaution he could think of to prepare himself before arriving at Lady Westerling’s ball. He brought his special pocket watch, the one with the ability to preset an alarm. He even gulped a shot of brandy to steady his nerves.

  All that vanished at the sight of Ella Wilder.

  She danced with another man, swirling like liquid gold. Her breasts swelled up from the stylish neckline. The overhead lights cast sparkles upon her hair and made her skin shimmer.

  Heat flared through him, electric and breathtaking. Groin tightened.

  He shouldn’t have come. He must stay away from her. Far away.

  “Lord Barrington.” Lady Westerling stood at his side. “I am so pleased you could make it, especially with your busy night schedule.”

  He cleared his throat. “Yes, well, I will need to leave early, I’m afraid. I do hope you understand.”

  “Certainly. And since that is the case, I shan’t wait much longer in starting up my little game.”

  Bennett tensed. “Game?”

  “Of course. Nothing but dancing can be rather dull, don’t you think? And so I’ve spent a great deal of time creating fun for my guests.”

  Fun? “Dancing is quite enough, I assure you.” He tried to look away from Ella but could not. It was as if his nemesis had placed a hex on him.

  “Don’t be silly. You will enjoy yourself. Miss Wilder is your partner.”

  Immediately, Bennett’s mouth moistened. Were he more of a coward, he would backtrack toward the door. “Really, Lady—”

  But the old woman had left him. She now stood at the far end of the room near the instrument players. They quickly finished up their notes and silenced.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” the eccentric woman began, “I hope you don’t mind a break in the dance to indulge an old lady in her merriment. I have constructed a game for you to play and have already devised the teams. It is a short scavenger game in which each team will have a room in which to find a certain object, as well as answer other riddles.”

  Murmurs swept through the crowd.

&n
bsp; She continued, unperturbed. “It won’t take more than an hour, I assure you, and I’ll grant a prize to the team who comes up with the most answers the soonest. Now please check the lists near the refreshment table to locate your partner.”

  Already knowing his partner, Bennett stood aside watching Ella peruse the names on the list. He saw her mouth round and her brows lift. She may have even blushed. Her green eyes searched the room and brightened when she spotted him.

  Every nerve jumped to move away. He knew trouble when he saw it. He had warned his brother Hugh over and over again, but the fool didn’t listen. And look where it got him. Nowhere but lost.

  Yet Ella Wilder was the type of trouble a man found hard to resist. She lured him with her vibrant beauty and ensnared him with her wild intellect. He wanted nothing more than to tease her lips apart and listen to her passionate rebukes for it.

  But he also learned that indulgence could bring ruin.

  She stood before him. “Well, Lord Barrington, it looks as though you cannot avoid me tonight.”

  Dear Lord, was his panic so clearly written on his face?

  “You told me only days ago to never seek you out again. And so you cannot blame our partnership on me.”

  Ah, yes, he had told her that. “I cannot blame this upon you, it is true. It seems that Lady Westerling has her own agenda.”

  “Oh?”

  “It appears nearly all teams are comprised of a male/female couple. She means to match make or at least provoke wagging tongues.”

  Her full lips curled in what could only be construed as a sly, wanton grin. “And shall I worry about her agenda with us?”

  “Well, Miss Wilder, since you have not only spent the night alone in my house and visited me alone in my bedchamber, I would think you would not worry about the games of an old woman.”

  She laughed so heartily, Bennett found himself chuckling too.

  “Quite true, Barrington. As you already know, I do not worry about wagging tongues.”

  A servant presented them with a piece of paper and then moved on to the next couple. Bennett handed her the paper and stood behind her to read over her shoulder, although the sight of her gleaming breasts was rather distracting to the task at hand.