Page 101 of A Devilish Element
“Then stay here and bolt the door behind me.”
“Eliza, be careful,” Jane said, as they lingered on the threshold. She hugged Eliza to her bosom, then let her go. Eliza paused until she heard the bolt slide into place, then trotted back down the narrow stairs again, her heart heavy in her chest. As the gloom pressed in around her, she felt the keenness of her loneliness. At home in Bluebell Lane, she eternally longed for solitude; now, she would like nothing more than her sisters about her, to share the burden of this adventure. At least them, she could rely on.
Jane was too tied up in her own shortsighted vision of the future, and Jem… How bitterly she felt the loss of his affections. The strings of her heart remained cut by his betrayal. She couldn’t entirely forgive him the hurt, even knowing he’d acted to protect her.
He still ought to have confided in her.
Trusted her.
Treated her as the equal he claimed he considered her.
Instead, it was all ruined between them, and over something so utterly pointless. Yes, certainly, Linfield could have ruined her reputation, but such scandals were easily averted by means of a wedding ring. Marriage pacts aplenty were formed for similar reasons, and while she didn’t want to be wed, that didn’t mean she wouldn’t have gone through with it if it’d become necessary to ensure her sisters’ futures.
Sometimes things were bigger than your own wishes, and you were obliged to act accordingly.
Besides, as husbands went, Jem wouldn’t have been such a bad one. They could have brewed potions and meddled with machinery together. Plus, the lovemaking part might have been fun. At least, so long as they could agree to avoid or at least postpone having children.
There were ways of doing that.
Ways she wished more women were acquainted with and didn’t judge one another over.
If Jane had only confided in her the truth of what she was about in Scarborough much earlier, then she could have educated her in the ways of avoiding mishaps.
But, Lord, she was being as big of a ninny as Jane thinking of such things now. She needed to apply her mind to the matter at hand. Jane’s bun was already buttered, and whatever she and Jem might have had was already lost.
She could forgive him his past lovers, was undaunted by the fact he loved other men, what she couldn’t get past so easily was him not trusting her enough to confide the truth. In that regard, he was too much like every other man.
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Jem
Jem tightened his hold on the doorframe when Eliza took off through the concealed passageway. If it weren’t for Linfield’s cadaver laid open on the table, he’d have gone straight after her. As it was, he stood paralysed. On feeling Bell’s gaze on him, he winced, then met the doctor’s unflinching gaze. Given that Bell was at work on Linfield’s body, there was no option other than to keep his chin up if he wanted to avoid the gristly sight of his lover’s remains, a nightmare that was sure to revisit him until the end of his days. Mercifully, the candlelight meant for poor visual acuity.
“The earl won’t thank you for a scandal.”
“He won’t thank us for letting his son’s murderer walk free either.” There was a smear of viscera on Bell’s cravat.
“I doubt that will be the outcome. Powerful men have their ways. However, I won’t stand in your way, if you feel you need to act, for whatever reason. I’m just reminding you that any public investigation into the matter is going to unearth things both you and the family would rather stay buried.”
He knew that. Knew it all too well. If Linfield were exposed as a molly, a sodomite, or both, then there would be serious repercussions. Attention would turn in his direction. His actions would be scrutinised. Conclusions reached. Did he want to face any of that? Of course he didn’t.
“Need it all come out? They’re unlikely to crack open Janie Faintree’s grave to see if it’s a man or a woman buried there. It’d cause too great a noration if they did so and found the grave already emptied by body thieves. They’ll accept whatever your word is on the matter, and my relationship with him is hardly of relevance to the case. Why can I not simply be Linfield’s tutor?”
“Because, Jem, people are motivated by hunger, for food, for gossip, and especially for scandal. It’s the salacious gossip that always spreads the fastest, and when there’s a scandal, everyone has their bit to contribute. Also, do you really think Mrs Honeyfield won’t have her say before the judge? No one goes quietly to the gallows, and we all know that is the outcome for the one deemed responsible. She’ll spill every sordid detail she can, and likely invent a score of embellishments. The crowd will be half in love with her by the end of it. Pamphlets and broad sheets will have been printed. Folks up and down the country will know the tale of the poor young housekeeper who was driven to desperate measures after a known rapscallion, a lord no less, stole her husband from her and swived him with gusto up his bumhole.”
The crudity of the description certainly hammered home the potential breadth of the mire.
“Every associate of Linfield’s will be scrutinised for similar signs of unnaturalness, and you, the scholarly bachelor, with no reputation for rakery of any kind, a man who’s never set foot inside a brothel, will be found wanting.”
“I have.” Of course he’d been in a brothel, but Bell’s point was made. He’d wind up tarnished. Investors would shy from backing his work into high-pressure engines, and he’d be stuck teaching idiots forever, except who would have him after such a scandal? Even other sodomites would shy from the stigma of associating with him in case they too were identified.
Still, he could not stand back and do nothing. There was a moral obligation to fulfil, and Eliza was depending on him. He could not let her down again, not after he’d already hurt her so very much.
“I’ve no notion of who the local magistrate is, do you?”
Bell, with a curved sailor’s needle held between his teeth, took a moment to thread it. “Jem, I’m barely cognisant of my surroundings beyond the castle walls. I came here because Linfield waved a substantial purse of coins in my direction and agreed to me cutting up corpses in his basement. I don’t even know wherehereis, let alone where the nearest big house is. Hell, I’m not sure I could even find my way to the village. Could you?”
On a clear day, perhaps, but when was the last time they’d enjoyed one of those? The weather had been miserable since they’d arrived.
