Page 108 of The Paid Companion

Her first crazed thought was that he seemed far too handsome to be a ruthless killer. And then she saw his eyes and knew there was no doubt about his identity.

“I personally selected a sample of the tiles that I wish installed on the fountain,” she said crisply. She took another step back and gave him a thin, shiny smile. “We don’t want any mistakes, do we?”

The gardener produced a pistol from behind the leather apron and aimed it at her heart.

“No, Miss Lodge,” he said. “We most certainly do not want any mistakes. You have caused me quite enough trouble as it is.”

Suddenly she remembered that Sally had not been in her room. Fear and a great fury raged through her.

“What have you done with the maid?” she asked tightly.

“She is quite safe.” He motioned toward the shed with the pistol. “See for yourself.”

Elenora crossed the short distance to the gardening shed, scarcely able to breathe through her terror, and opened the door.

Sally was inside on the floor, bound and gagged but evidently unharmed. Her eyes widened with desperation and panic when she saw Elenora. A sealed letter lay on the boards beside her.

“Your maid will stay alive so long as you cooperate with me,” Miss Lodge,” Parker said casually. “But if you give me any difficulty whatsoever, I shall cut her throat before your very eyes.”

“Are you mad, sir?” Elenora asked without stopping to consider her words.

The question seemed to amuse him. “My grandmother seems to think so. She had me carried off to an asylum yesterday. And here I thought she doted on me. It is a sad day when one cannot even rely upon one’s relatives, isn’t it?”

“She was trying to save you.”

He shrugged. “Whatever her intentions, I was able to escape within a matter of hours. Why, I was back here in London in time to proceed with my plans last night.”

“That was you I saw at the ball.”

He gave her a mocking bow. “It was indeed. You do have a very attractive neck, Miss Lodge.”

She would not let him unnerve her with such intimate talk, she vowed. “Why did you want St. Merryn to believe that Roland Burnley was the killer?”

“So that the earl would relax his vigilance, of course. I felt it would be easier to snatch you and, later, him, if he let down his guard for a time.” He chuckled. “Besides, I rather enjoyed playing games with his lordship. St. Merryn prides himself on his logical mind, but his powers of reason are nothing compared to my own.”

“What is this all about?” Elenora asked in her most authoritative tone. Perhaps if she stalled for time someone would return to the house, see her out here in the garden, and come out to investigate.

“All your questions will be answered eventually, Miss Lodge. But first things first. Allow me to introduce myself.” Parker inclined his head in a graceful little bow, but the pistol in his hand never wavered. “You have the great honor of meeting England’s second Newton.”

36

Arthur put one booted foot on the step and propped his forearm on his thigh. “What made you think that the gentleman who lived in Number Five was odd?”

The elderly housekeeper snorted. “No manservant. No chambermaid. No one to look after his clothes or cook his meals. Lived there all alone. Never knew a young man who could afford better to do for himself.”

Arthur glanced back toward the door of Number Five. “Were you here when they took him away?”

“Aye.” The woman followed his gaze and shook her head. “A terrible sight it was. They brought him out all bound in one of them strait-waistcoats like they use to bind the poor souls in Bedlam. The fine lady in the carriage was crying her heart out. Afterward everyone said they’d taken him off to a private asylum someplace in the country.”

“Did the gentleman ever have any visitors while he lived in this street?”

“None that I saw,” the housekeeper said. “But, then, again, he was only there for a few hours in the afternoons and early evenings.”

Arthur straightened and took his foot down off the stone step. “He didn’t sleep there?”

“Never saw him come home until midday at the earliest. Figured he spent the nights at his club.”

Arthur contemplated the door. “Or somewhere else.”

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