Pippa and the Prince of Secrets by Grace Callaway

39

After nightfall, the Angels and their team arrived at the General Cemetery for All Souls in Kensal Green. Their carriages dropped them outside the gates; they couldn’t risk the sound of the conveyances alerting the guards to their presence. The public cemetery ran east to west and occupied over fifty acres. Pippa had visited during the day to pay respects to Longmere, but at night the place lost its tranquil, garden-like ambiance. Moonlight filtered through the drifting clouds, illuminating an eerie landscape of swaying trees, looming mausoleums, and jutting gravestones.

Earlier surveillance had identified two separate patrols of guards to dissuade any would-be body snatchers. One group started at the eastern side of the cemetery, the other at the western edge, and they met in the middle, where the Anglican chapel and catacombs were located. Julianna’s plot was located closer to the east end, which meant a diversion was needed for the eastern patrol. Glory and Fiona had volunteered for the task.

That left the remaining group—Pippa, Charlie, Livy, Hadleigh, and Hadleigh’s friend Mr. Chen—to dig up Julianna’s grave. Even with many hands, the task would take time, especially since they needed to leave the plot looking undisturbed. Glory and Fiona’s decoy would only buy them so much time; if the eastern patrol failed to show up at the Anglican chapel, their western counterparts would surely come looking for them.

Charlie gathered them into a circle.

“Is everyone clear on the plan?” she whispered.

Like Pippa, she’d tied a dark scarf over her hair and was dressed head to toe in black. All the ladies wore trousers, their outfits designed by Mrs. Q to meet the demands of the mission.

The Duke of Hadleigh held up the pair of shovels he was carrying. “Dig up the grave. Don’t get caught. Am I missing anything?”

“Do not anger the spirits.” This came from Mr. Chen, an austerely handsome fellow with thick black hair and a lean, wiry build. “It is best to disturb the dead as little as possible.”

Glory shuddered; perched on her shoulder, her ferret mimicked her.

“Can we please not speak of ghosts before we enter a graveyard?” she requested.

Chen gave her an amused look.

Charlie said, “Glory and Fi, keep the guards occupied as long as you can. We’ll meet back here in two hours. All right, everyone, let’s go.”

The men scaled over the high wrought-iron gate first, Chen doing so with a lightness of movement that made Pippa blink.

“How does he do that?” Glory said in hushed tones.

“Perhaps by not consuming two dozen of Gunter’s cakes?” Pippa replied wryly.

The Angels made it over easily enough. Glory and Fi went east to deal with the guards, and Pippa and Charlie led the way toward Lady Hastings’s grave. They didn’t risk lighting their lamps, relying on the moonlight. As Pippa traversed the pebbled walk lined with stone mausoleums and sarcophagi, her senses were on high alert, her muscles tensing at the scurrying of animals through the underbrush.

“Julianna’s site is in the next grove,” Charlie whispered.

As they neared the thick cluster of trees, Pippa drew to a halt. Voices were coming from within the grove. Heart thudding, she saw that Charlie was already drawing out a pistol; she did likewise. She strained to hear what was being said.

She heard two voices, male and female. The conversation was muffled.

Suddenly, the woman’s voice rang out. “You couldn’t leave well enough alone. Do it, Clive.”

A shot blasted through the night.

Pippa charged ahead, Charlie at her heels. They dashed along a leafy path, which widened into a circle of trees. Here, moonlight fell like a silver web over the gravestones. And caught in the gossamer strands of light was…Louis Wood? He lay on a pile of fresh earth, and he was gasping, clutching the dark bloom spreading over his chest.

Chen rushed over to examine the wound. “I can temporarily stanch the bleeding. But I need to get him someplace with the proper equipment to remove the bullet. Otherwise, he will not survive.”

Pippa crouched on the man’s other side. “Mr. Wood, who did this to you?”

“Stop her, can’t let her get away with…Julianna…” Wood’s gaze was glassy. “Has a brute with her…”

“Which way did they go?” Livy pointed to the three paths leading out from the grove.

Wood’s face slackened; he’d lost consciousness.

“Chen and Hadleigh will have to carry Wood out of here,” Charlie said. “The rest of us will each take a path. One of them should lead to Julianna.”

“It isn’t safe to split up,” Hadleigh cut in. “That woman already shot a man.”

“Now, darling—” Livy began.

“Don’t darling me,” Hadleigh said in stern tones. “I’m not letting my wife, the love of my life and mother of my child, go after a murderess on her own. And before you argue, it’s not about your sex. Would you want me to take such a risk?”

Pippa had to admit he had a point.

Footsteps came from the entrance of the grove. Pippa spun around, aiming her pistol at the intruders who burst into the clearing.

“Cull?” she said in shock. “What are you doing here?”

Jesus wept, he’d missed Pippa. Yet now wasn’t the time to get into all that he had to say to her. He’d heard a gunshot come from this grove, and Wood was on the ground, bleeding out.

Soon,Cull promised himself. Soon and, God willing, for the rest of our lives.

“I had larks on Wood,” he said. “They followed him here and alerted me.”

Pippa’s gaze widened. “Why do you have that shiner?”

Back at Grier’s, Hunt had greeted Cull with a fist to the face. Cull hadn’t fought back. He’d taken his due for being a fool.

“Hunt paid me a visit,” he told her.

“Papa hit you? Your poor face…” She reached toward his cheek, then snatched her hand away. Remembering his despicable treatment of her, no doubt.

“I deserved it,” he said hoarsely. “For pushing you away when that is the last thing I want to do. I love you, Pippa. I want you by my side and for the rest of our lives. I was afraid that I couldn’t protect you, that the darkness of my life would cause you harm. But whether you are willing to take me on isn’t my decision to make, is it? It is yours. And if you’ll still have me…if you still love me…”

His heart lodged in his throat. Because he couldn’t bear it if she said no.

“Oh, Cull,” she whispered. “You’re such a dolt.”

“I know. But I’m still your dolt…aren’t I?”

A smile tucked into her cheeks, and when she nodded, his chest expanded with relief.

“Pardon the interruption.” Lady Fayne’s voice was dry. “But we do have a murderer to catch.”

“The mudlarks have the cemetery surrounded.” Cull kept his gaze on Pippa, riveted by the glowing love in her eyes. “Julianna Hastings won’t get out.”

“Then let’s go find her.” Pippa held out a hand.

He grabbed onto her and knew he would never let go again.

The group split off into teams to comb the grounds for Julianna and her accomplice. Pippa and Cull had started off westward when they heard a mudlark whistle go off up ahead. They sprinted toward the sound, which led them to a group of larks.

Sally was among them. “We saw them go in there.” She pointed at the Anglican chapel, a building with a porticoed entrance flanked by colonnades. “It were a lady and a great ’ulking cove. Teddy wanted to follow, but I told ’im you said to stay put and sound the alarm,” she said virtuously.

“Tattletale,” Teddy muttered.

“Good work,” Cull said. “Now go and inform the others where we are.”

The larks scampered off, and Pippa and Cull ventured forward to the chapel. The light of their lamps slid across the Doric columns as they passed under the pediment. The doors were ajar. They slipped inside, pistols held at the ready as they went through the shadowed pews row by row.

No sign of Julianna or her brute. Pippa cocked her head at a thumping sound…footsteps?

“Do you hear that?” she whispered. “It’s coming from beneath us.”

“The catacombs.” Cull raced ahead toward an open door, nearly hidden by a column. His light showed steep steps winding down into the dark vault.

“Watch your step,” he whispered.

Heart hammering, she followed him into the gloom. A dank smell curled in her nostrils. The air grew humid, pressing upon her lungs as they descended into the catacombs. Passing through an arched doorway, they were greeted by a grid of narrow brick passageways lit by flickering wall sconces. They set aside their lamps to free their hands.

“Be ready.” Cull cocked his pistol. “They could be anywhere.”

Pippa kept close to the wall, her eyes sharp as she and Cull passed intersecting tunnels. Built into the walls themselves and guarded by iron grates were the loculi, niches which held stacked coffins. There must be hundreds of them in the crypt. Pippa tried not to think about what lay within, the remains trapped here in the suffocating darkness. She and Cull turned a corner and found themselves staring down another corridor lined with grated niches.

Movement flashed at the far end: a slender figure disappearing around the corner.

“There she is,” Pippa breathed.

Cull took off down a parallel passageway. He was faster than Pippa, several paces ahead when a grate flung open into his path. He slammed into it, bouncing backward, his weapon skittering into the shadows. The brute who’d been hiding in the alcove attacked. He and Cull grappled, trading punches.

Pippa gripped her pistol, afraid to shoot for fear of hitting Cull. The bullet could ricochet off the walls and do unpredictable damage. Luckily, although the brute was large, Cull was stronger, smarter, outmaneuvering the other and gaining the advantage.

“I’m fine,” Cull shouted. “Go after her.”

Trusting that he had everything in hand, Pippa raced off down a tunnel parallel to the one Julianna had taken. She shifted her gaze between her path and Julianna’s trajectory, tried to listen for the other’s footsteps but could hear nothing beyond her own pounding heart. As she glanced ahead, panting, she saw the glint of a muzzle poking around the next corner. She reacted, throwing herself backward the instant before the shot rang out. The bullet whizzed by, stirring the air by her cheek.

A heartbeat later, she was back on her feet, sprinting forward.

She rounded the corner, aiming her pistol at the brunette, who was trying to reload.

“Drop it,” Pippa said.

The woman slowly let go of her pistol. Her eyes suddenly filled with tears, her expression pleading…and that was when Pippa knew.

“You understand why I had to do it, don’t you? You, of all people, understand,” the woman said in a tremulous voice. “Life is unfair to women like us. Hastings looked down upon me, used me, treated me like dirt. I had to escape my husband—I had no choice.”

“As unfair as life may be, you had a choice,” Pippa said levelly. “And you made it when you murdered Julianna Hastings.”

“I don’t know what you mean…”

The woman feigned confusion. Pippa had to admit that the resemblance between Julianna Hastings and her impersonator was uncanny.

“The jig is up, Mary,” Pippa said. “I’ve had my suspicions that it was you, not Julianna, who was behind this plot. But I knew for sure when you tried to get rid of Louis Wood tonight. Julianna Hastings was a desperate woman, driven to desperate measures…but she was no killer. If she was, she would have simply murdered her husband and been done with it.”

And Pippa finally saw the depth of Mary Brown’s talent: the other’s expression morphed with terrifying ease. One instant, she was a wronged wife. The next, she was a calculating murderess, capable of anything.

“You’re cleverer than I gave you credit for,” Mary said. “Unlike that nitwit Lady Hastings.”

Pippa held the gun steady. “Why did you kill her?”

“Because she used me.” Mary’s gaze was colder than the surrounding crypt. “She hired me to take her place, and at first, she was grateful and kind. Treating me like we were friends, taking me into her confidence. I got to know everything about her and convinced everyone I was her, even her arse of a husband. Bastard didn’t even know who I was when he was rutting inside me.”

Pippa pushed aside the twinge of empathy. “But Lady Hastings tired of the ruse.”

“The bitch got greedy. Decided that stealing away to meet with her lover on occasion wasn’t enough. She wanted her freedom. I told her there was an easy way to do it…but she was horrified. Refused to contemplate doing away with Hastings, even though the bastard had it coming.

“Instead, she came up with an asinine plan to fake her own death. She knew about her father’s will, you see. Plotted to get Morton his share of the money so that he and she could run off together. She hired you to throw everyone off her scent. She knew you would point to Hastings as the guilty party and wanted the focus on him until she and Morton could get away, even though she knew the codicil would surface and her husband would eventually go free. What a bleeding coward she was,” Mary said in disdain. “Playing all those ballroom games, yet afraid to dirty her lily-white hands getting rid of the real problem.”

“So you took the situation into your own hands,” Pippa said evenly.

“She left me no choice. When she made up her mind to fake her own death, she no longer had any use for me. Now I was a problem. When she set up that final meeting with me, I knew that she intended to end our arrangement. To cut off the payments which were my livelihood and which I had bloody earned!” Rage contorted Mary’s features. “I’d played her simpering self for a year and lain beneath her pig of a husband. After what I’d sacrificed, I wasn’t going to let her take it all away.”

“You killed her. And hurt Ollie,” Pippa bit out.

“Ollie? Oh, the urchin.” Mary shrugged. “He should’ve minded his own business.”

“He’s an innocent child.” Anger sizzled through Pippa. “Did you kill Hastings too?”

“He’d started figuring out Julianna’s original plan, and I couldn’t let him unravel all my hard work. I had my associate take care of him.”

“And Wood?”

“That trained cur?” Mary snorted. “He would do anything for Julianna. He knew about me and supported her plan to fake her death—there was plenty in it for him—but when she died in truth, his sentimentality got the better of him. Instead of accepting his windfall, he tried to find out what happened to her. He came looking for me, and I arranged the meeting tonight. It was supposed to look like a butler’s suicide over his beloved mistress’s grave. After all, I couldn’t have him ruining my ultimate goal.”

“Morton,” Pippa said with sudden understanding. “He thinks you are Julianna?”

Mary’s smile was feline. “He’s not very bright, but he is very much in love. He bought my cock-and-bull story that Julianna’s body was a corpse I’d bought to be my double. After he gets his money, we’re going to elope. A tragic accident on our honeymoon will leave me as the grieving Mrs. Howard Morton, and I’ll get what I’m owed at last.”

Mary moved in a flash, throwing her empty pistol at Pippa. Pippa dodged, and Mary sprang on her, knocking her to the ground. Pippa’s pistol flew out of her grasp. The other pressed on her throat, cutting off her air. Pippa swung her left arm against the exposed side of Mary’s neck and used her legs to kick Mary off. She scrambled to her feet, facing Mary, who now held a gleaming blade.

Before Pippa could reach for her own knife, Mary came at her. Pippa dodged the other’s blade once, twice, staying on the defensive. The woman was strong, quick, and desperate…a lethal combination.

Patience is your friend. Let your foe win the battle while you win the war.

Pippa danced around, tiring her enemy out. Then she deliberately left her defenses open. Triumph glittered in Mary’s eyes as she came in and struck the blade at Pippa’s heart.

“No!” Cull’s roar shook the walls.

Glimpsing Mary’s shocked expression when the knife failed to penetrate, Pippa went on the offensive. She grabbed Mary’s weapon arm, twisting it; with a pained scream, Mary lost hold of the blade, which clattered onto the stones. Pippa issued a series of strikes that drove the other into the side of the tunnel. She finished with a right kick that made Mary double over, then brought her right arm in a backhanded strike that snapped Mary’s head against the brick.

With a moan, Mary slumped down the wall and didn’t move.

In the next heartbeat, Cull was there, running shaking hands over Pippa.

“I saw her stab you,” he said roughly. “You’re…you’re not hurt?”

Pippa widened the tear that Mary’s blade had made. The knife had pierced through her waistcoat and shirt all the way to her corset, exposing the gleaming chainmail.

God bless Mrs. Q.

“That is some corset.” Cull huffed out a laugh. “I should have known you would be prepared.”

Pippa smiled demurely. “An Angel always is.”