CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
EVE CHECKED HER APPEARANCE IN THE MIRROR IN THE ENTRY. THE gown she wore was a full-length sapphire-blue sheath that hugged her curves and had a split up one side to her knee. It was expensive, in perfect taste, and stunningly beautiful.
She felt guilty letting Ran pay for it, but he had insisted, and she couldn’t really afford a dress that cost so much.
She turned to study her reflection and approved of the way she had swept her dark hair into a loose chignon at the back of her head and left soft tendrils beside each ear. She reached up to touch the magnificent dangling diamond earrings that had arrived with Ran’s tux, borrowed from a Bond Street jewelry store apparently well acquainted with Ran’s sophisticated tastes.
A knock came at the door. With a calming breath, she walked over and pulled it open. The man in the designer tuxedo and snowy-white shirt was so handsome her breath caught. And he was hers for the evening.
“You look even more beautiful than I imagined.” Ran’s gaze swept over her, the heat in his incredible blue eyes making her wish they were already back from the party.
“So do you,” Eve said without thinking because it was true.
Ran just smiled. “Thank you. Are you ready?”
“Let me get my bag.” Rhinestones glittered on the designer purse Ran had chosen at a boutique shop on Fawcett Street. Eve grabbed the bag and they headed down the hall.
The Bentley limo waited in front of the hotel for the hour-plus ride to Fieldhurst’s country estate. They sipped from a chilled bottle of Christal along the way, making the time pass quickly. Eve glanced out the window as the limo turned onto a road that wound through vast green parkland sprinkled with leafy trees.
“I wonder how many acres Fieldhurst owns,” she said.
“According to the information Alec sent, the house sits on a hundred acres. It was originally built in the late fourteenth century, completely remodeled and added onto late in the fifteen hundreds, and, of course, remodeled and updated many times after that. Fieldhurst inherited the property about ten years ago.”
The limo continued its journey and eventually pulled up behind a Rolls-Royce and a Mercedes-Benz limousine rolling toward the front of a U-shaped, three-story mansion built of buff-colored stone.
“We should be among the last to arrive,” Ran said. “I prefer to blend in, give ourselves some time to look around before I speak to Fieldhurst.”
Eve made no reply. Her nerves were suddenly thrumming. The historic home was lovely, profoundly beautiful in its ancient way. It occurred to her the upkeep and taxes must be tens of thousands of pounds per year.
“Fieldhurst must have more money than he can count.”
“I’m sure he does,” Ran said. “These days, virgins don’t come cheap.”
The words sparked a fire inside her. Eve’s nerves settled beneath her determination to see this man got what he deserved. They made their way up the stone steps, through ornately carved wooden doors, into a grand entrance hall, which, with its black and white marble floors, towering ceilings, and heavy glass chandeliers, was spectacular.
There were only two people left in the receiving line. A weak-chinned man in his forties with thinning blond hair and a beautiful auburn-haired woman a few years younger, both of their smiles reflecting how much they wished the affair was over.
“Good evening,” the man said. “I’m Gideon Fieldhurst and this is my wife, Barbara. Welcome to East Gilling Hall.”
Ran made a brief nod of his head. “Ransom King and Dr. Eve St. Clair. A pleasure to meet you.”
“You as well,” Gideon said. “Unfortunately, my mother wasn’t feeling well enough to attend this evening. My father has already gone into the ballroom to join the other guests. If you’ll just take the staircase to your right, you’ll find it on the second floor.”
Ran had mentioned that Claudia Fieldhurst rarely attended events with her husband. Eve wondered if the woman was aware of her husband’s infidelities and figured she probably was.
Eve took Ran’s arm as they climbed the wide marble staircase to the second floor. The house was huge and spectacularly lovely, the ballroom filled with guests decked out in their finest, wandering and chatting beneath a high molded ceiling and heavy chandeliers.
Knowing a little of the history of the ancient property, Eve couldn’t help wondering if there were any notorious ghosts in residence. In truth, she sensed only the lingering echo of souls who had once filled the halls and chambers of the house.
Ran led her toward a bar at the end of the ballroom. Another bar served guests at the opposite end. Waiters streamed past with glasses of champagne and hors d’oeuvres on gleaming silver trays. Potted palms and colorful orchids set an elegant tone throughout the opulent chamber.
“Do you know what Fieldhurst looks like?” Eve asked.
“Oh, yes. I know.” The crowd parted as Ran guided her across the ballroom to the bar, ordered himself a scotch, and plucked a glass of champagne off a passing waiter’s tray.
Handing Eve the glass, he leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I believe that’s Fieldhurst in the circle of people off to your right.” He gave her a devious smile. “Why don’t I introduce you?”
Eve managed to nod. She was going to meet a man guilty of heinous crimes. Pasting on a smile, she followed Ran into the circle of guests surrounding their host. Since Ransom King had a presence few people could ignore, he immediately drew the older man’s attention.
Carlton Fieldhurst was midsixties, silver-haired, with the cold blue eyes of a predator and the same weak chin as his son. Eve pitied the innocent young women Fieldhurst had forced into his bed.
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” their host said, smiling. “Carlton Fieldhurst.”
“Ransom King.”
“Ah, yes. King Enterprises.”
Fieldhurst’s gaze went to Eve, and though she was far older than the young girls that appealed to him, she could feel his gaze sliding over her like day-old grease.
“And your lovely companion?” he asked Ran.
“Dr. Eve St. Clair,” she answered for him.
Fieldhurst took her hand and pressed the back against his lips. “A pleasure, Dr. St. Clair.”
Ran’s jaw tightened. Eve drew her hand away and took a sip of champagne, hoping to diffuse the tension. “Lovely party.”
“Thank you,” Fieldhurst said, still smiling.
“I wonder if we might chat in private?” Ran suggested.
One of Fieldhurst’s silver eyebrows winged up. “I have other guests, of course, but since I’m hoping you’ll make a generous donation to the Fieldhurst Family Charity Fund, I can certainly spare a few moments. If you’ll follow me.”
Ran leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Stay out of trouble. I’ll be right back.” He kissed her cheek in a show of possession and followed Carlton Fieldhurst out of the ballroom.
Eve felt a trickle of annoyance. She wanted to see Fieldhurst get what he deserved as much as Ran did. On the other hand, Ran seemed to have the situation under control. While he was gone, perhaps she could learn something useful. Eve took a sip of her champagne and began to wander around the ballroom.
* * *
Ran followed Carlton Fieldhurst into an anteroom with heavy square beams overhead and ornate gilded sconces on the walls. A dark green velvet sofa and chairs surrounded an ornately carved coffee table on a thick Persian carpet.
Fieldhurst walked over to an ancient oak sideboard against the wall and lifted the stopper off a crystal decanter. “Freshen your drink?”
“It’s fine.”
Fieldhurst poured an inch of amber liquor into his glass and the stopper went back in the bottle with a crystal ring. “What can I do for you, Mr. King?”
Ran took a sip of his scotch. “I’d like to purchase a virgin. I hear you’re quite good at locating them. Since I’m new to this kind of thing, I was hoping you would assist in my endeavor.”
Fieldhurst’s silver eyebrows looked glued to his forehead. “I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”
“Perhaps an introduction to Mr. Jeffers would solve my problem.”
Fieldhurst went pale. He must have realized Ran was the man who had confronted him at the asylum. He set his glass down on the oak sideboard, walked over, and pulled open the door. The sound of classical music drifted in from the ballroom. “I think you had better leave.”
Ran took a drink of scotch. “I’ll be more than happy to do that. But first let’s clear the air. To begin with, I’m not the only one aware of your highly illegal proclivities.”
The door closed with the solid thump of heavy wood. “What do you want?”
“I want your days of debauchery to end. I’m determined to make that happen at any cost. You’re a wealthy man, Fieldhurst, but so am I. I hear a word about you and another young woman, you won’t be able to hold your head up in London society or anywhere else. Do you understand?”
“Who the hell do you think you are?”
“I’m the man who’s holding you by the balls, the man who was there the night you showed up at the asylum to claim your prize. I know the young woman you tried to debauch. For now, she isn’t interested in pursuing the matter, but that could change. At this very moment, the police are interviewing the thugs who abducted the girl and sold her to you. They may not know your name, but they could certainly contribute useful information. All of it taken together—you could be in very serious trouble.”
“You’re insane.”
Ran ignored him. “If you want your fancy lifestyle to continue, if you want your wife and family kept in the dark, you’ll keep your fly zipped and get rid of your procurer. You and Jeffers are finished with your disgusting games.”
“Get out!” Fieldhurst shouted, but he was shaking.
Ran had built a career out of reading people. Fieldhurst was done. He wouldn’t risk humiliating himself or his family. Ran left his drink on the table and returned to the ballroom. He found Eve talking to a woman and her husband not far from where he’d left her.
“Something’s come up,” Ran said. “I’m afraid we’ll have to leave.”
She turned to the couple in front of her. “I enjoyed meeting you. Have a pleasant evening.”
“You as well,” the woman said.
The couple wandered away and began chatting with someone else. Ran took Eve’s arm and in minutes they were downstairs waiting for the limo. The Bentley pulled up just seconds after their arrival.
Ran opened the rear door before the driver had time to get out, and both of them slid into the back seat. “Take us home, Willard.”
“Yes, sir.”
The chauffer had been invaluable during Ran’s tenure in England. He planned to give Willard a very sizable tip. The limo pulled away and Ran leaned back in his seat. He wished he had the glass of scotch he had left in the anteroom.
“What happened?” Eve asked.
“Fieldhurst has decided to reform his lecherous ways.”
“He has?”
“Not exactly. But I have a hunch, now that his sexual perversions have been exposed, he’ll think twice before engaging in them again.”
“So that’s it? Fieldhurst promises to be a good little boy and he gets off scot-free?”
Ran took her hand and brought it to his lips. “Bloodthirsty little creature, aren’t you?”
Eve pulled her hand away. “He deserves to be in prison.”
“That may happen yet. Even if it doesn’t, I can pretty much guarantee, he’s going to experience a great deal of financial trouble in the near future.”
Eve relaxed back in her seat. “Now who’s the bloodthirsty creature?”
“As you say, Fieldhurst deserves to pay and so he shall.”
Eve smiled, apparently willing to leave retribution up to him. Ran wasn’t going to let her down.
“I met an interesting couple while you were gone,” Eve said.
“Did you now?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Turner-Wilcox. They live in the area. We talked about the history of Gilling Hall, and Martin Turner-Wilcox told me a story about a ghost in the residence who liked to leave flowers on the pillow next to someone sleeping in one of the guest rooms.”
“A romantic ghost.”
She smiled. “People reported all sorts of sightings: floating white specters, a long-haired maiden carrying a bridal bouquet. Turned out it wasn’t a ghost at all. It was a hedgehog. A household pet named Hedgie. He roamed through the old servants’ passages that had mostly been sealed up.”
Ran laughed. It dissipated some of the adrenaline still pumping through him. Looking at Eve, he knew exactly how to relieve the rest. “So the hedgehog stole flowers from around the house and left them as gifts.”
“Exactly.”
It was good to hear a funny ghost story and see the smile on Eve’s face. Ran leaned over and kissed her. She looked so beautiful he wanted to take her there in the back seat. Since neither of them were teens anymore and he didn’t want to shock Willard into wrecking the car, he would have to wait.
“I’ll be glad when we get back to the hotel,” he said.
Eve’s gaze, warm, inviting, and tinged with the same desire he was feeling, met his. “Me too,” she said, and then she kissed him.