Annoyance buffeted her, but she tasted a bit of apprehension as well. The look in his eyes held suspicion along with unfriendliness. She stepped away to allow him entrance, and gestured to the tiny parlor. “What do you want, Mr. Goodwin?” she asked, following him in and closing the door.
“I have some questions to ask in regards to your discovery last evening, at the home of Baron Hungreath.” He looked pointedly toward one of the chairs. Victoria ignored him. “Of course, the magistrate is quite concerned.”
Victoria, having been the one to suggest contacting the magistrate, felt like kicking herself. But she refrained, and instead replied, “As well he should be. Someone is attacking innocent women and leaving their mauled bodies for dead.”
“Someone? Or something?” Mr. Goodwin’s slender nose gleamed like the mother-of-pearl handle on a spoon.
“If you continue to make such vague statements, my butler will show you the door.”
“The magistrate has sent me to ask you some questions, Lady Rockley. It will be best for you if you cooperate. I should hate for you to end up in Newgate, waiting for the noose, due to some… misunderstanding… in regards to your involvement. I understand it’s quite a loathsome place, even for a prison.”
“Who are you working for?” she asked.
“Why, the magistrate, of course. Although Miss Forrest’s family is, and quite rightly, devastated and determined to find out who or what is behind the horrible attack on their daughter.” Victoria saw him glance toward the chair again, but perversely, she remained standing. “You came upon this young woman’s body hidden behind a gardener’s shed. Her name, incidentally, was Bertha Flowers.” He looked at her as if to challenge whether she cared that the woman had a name.
“Yes, I found her behind the shed.”
“What were you doing in the garden during a dinner party, Lady Rockley?”
“I had excused myself to get some air. The gardens were lovely.”
“But the other guests were playing cards. Why would you be so rude as to leave the party?”
“I thought I saw one of the other ladies in the garden, and I went to join her.”
“And who was that? According to Lady Hungreath, all of the other ladies were in the parlor with the exception of you.”
“Miss Sara Regalado, from Rome, was not in the parlor when I quit the room.”
“Miss Regalado returned almost immediately after you disappeared. Lady Hungreath noted it especially as she thought it would be you, and was quite confused when you didn’t return.”
So that had not been Sara’s pink gown, flashing behind the cupid statue? It was impossible for Sara to have returned to the parlor so quickly without Victoria seeing her.
“How did you know where to find the body?”
“As I wasn’t looking for a body,” Victoria replied shortly, “I didn’t know where to find it.”
“You had blood on your skirt and hands when the gentlemen found you. And your shawl, covered in blood, was found at the scene as well, as if it had been… discarded. Nor, again, did you scream or make any other sound of distress-according to the others. Who, certainly, should have heard you. It’s almost as if you expected to find it, and knew where to look.” He rocked back on his heels, as if delivering some great pronouncement.
“There was blood everywhere, Mr. Goodwin. When I knelt next to the girl to ascertain whether she was dead-”
“Lady Rockley, I saw the condition of her body. You must be foolish in the extreme to believe that she might have been alive. Regardless, no woman would have the constitution to come upon a person in that condition and not make any sound of distress.” He didn’t speak further, but exaggerated dubiousness was written on his face.
“Perhaps you could desist from dancing about the Maypole and say whatever it is you mean,” Victoria replied.
“Very well, then, Lady Rockley. I believe that you are somehow involved in these attacks. Either you are the perpetrator, or are somehow involved with the person- or creature-who is.”
“Mr. Goodwin, do you have any idea how ridiculous you sound?” Victoria found it easy to laugh, although an uncomfortable feeling had begun to settle in the back of her mind. “How would a woman such as I make those kinds of wounds on another person?”
“A woman such as you?” Mr. Goodwin’s eyebrows turned into dark, inverted vees, drawing together above the bridge of his nose. “I have a feeling that a woman such as you just might be able to.”
Victoria’s mouth dried. Who was this man? The discomfort in her middle turned cold and heavy. Yet she responded coolly. “Accusations toward me are merely a waste of your time and energy. The real monster who is doing this is escaping your notice while you point the finger at me.”
“Of course you would say that, Lady Rockley. You are very clever, I do give you credit for that. After what happened with your husband, I would expect you to react in such a fashion.”
She must have frowned in question, but, in truth, her anxiety was turning to anger at the skinny man before her. Victoria’s vision blurred and began to pinken. She felt her fingers close in on themselves, her nails scoring deeply into her palms.
“Yes, indeed,” he continued in an unhurried voice. “The circumstances under which your husband disappeared are exceedingly odd, indeed. I shall not be overlooking them in my investigations. And do not think that your status will protect you, Lady Rockley.”
“Get out of my house.”
“Of course, Lady Rockley.” He started toward the door, moving as if he had all of the time in the world and as if Victoria wasn’t ready to do something violent to his person. It must have showed in her face, despite the fact that she tried to control it. The anger bubbled and simmered and she felt it in the way her knees shook beneath the fall of her skirt, and her teeth ground down on themselves.
“Perhaps you recall the fate of Baron Clifton’s heir? It wasn’t even murder, Lady Rockley. He merely stole some jewelry.” Mr. Goodwin smiled with great pleasure. “Stealing is still a hanging offense. As is assault, and accomplice to murder.”
Now his hand was on the knob, and he turned it. Then he stopped, just like Max had earlier this morning. “Did I mention that one of the servants at St. Heath’s Row told me that Rockley had left the home days before you claim he left on The Plentifulle, after a great row between the two of you? And that the day you say he sailed on that ship, that same servant saw his master enter the house in the dead of night? The same night that you dismissed all of the servants?”
He stepped through the door as Victoria’s vision began to burn. She felt her heart beat and her breath increasing in speed, and herself wanting to move toward him… to stop him. Stop him from these snide remarks, these thinly covered accusations.
He had one more thing to say. “I believe you had something to do with his disappearance, Lady Rockley. Just as you had something to do with the attacks on Miss Forrest and Miss Flowers. And a man left for dead in the Dials more than a year ago. He had been repeatedly stabbed.
“I’ve been awaiting your return from Italy for nearly a year now.” He smiled and slammed his hat onto sleek, smooth hair, looking at her with the same insolence that Nedas, the vampire son of Lilith, had. “I’ve seen many of your class behind the bars of Newgate, Lady Rockley, and watched them on the scaffold. It’s my opinion that you will soon join them, and then how long will your lush, dark beauty last?”
And he closed the door so quietly it was ominous.
Despite the uneasiness from her meeting with Mr. Goodwin, Victoria was clearheaded enough to order Charley, Aunt Eustacia’s trusted butler, to follow the odious man.