The Three of Spades

The Fury

The FuryI sat looking at the envelope. We’d not spoken, nor even seen each other, since his twin brother’s funeral.

Tony had gone to see Jonathan a week afterward, and every week since, only to return saying Jon had hidden himself away in his room, refusing to see all visitors, not even going downstairs to eat.

And back then, I didn’t care.

I’d been furious with him. He’d faked his abduction, going along with his brother Jack’s mad plan to capture me then burn a Spadros warehouse down to fake his death.

Jon had known, I felt sure of it. He’d planned it out, every part, even begging me to return to Tony “should anything happen.”

And now I was pregnant and couldn’t escape.

The thought that Jonathan, my dearest friend, the one person who knew everything, would conspire to entrap me so ... it hurt like nothing else had.

But this was his second letter. What if something truly was wrong?

My dear Mrs. Spadros,

I won’t say I hope you’re well — although that is my dearest wish — because I know that this time is a trial for you like no other.

I took the liberty of summoning your apartments’ butler yesterday. He told me of your reaction to my letter three weeks ago, how you tore it in two and cast it into the fire unopened.

And I felt dismayed.

I must see you. It pains me deeply for us to be parted. Yet I’m unable to visit.

Whatever wrong you believe I’ve done, I have never been anything other than

Your faithful servant,

Jon

I felt bitterness, a furious anger. How could I meet with him? I feared saying something hateful, something cruel I’d later regret.

Someone knocked on my study door. “Mrs. Spadros,” my butler Blitz said, “almost time for you to return.”

Ah, yes. “Come in.”

He came in, leaving the door open.

“Why did you not tell me you’d seen Master Jonathan?”

His eyes widened. “How did you know?”

I held up Jon’s letter, then stuffed it into my carpetbag. Then I took a deep breath and stood. “How was he?”

“Very ill,” Blitz said, eyes downcast, his voice haunted. “Worse than I’ve ever seen him.”

Fear gripped me. The doctors had told Jonathan that nothing more could be done for his heart condition. Could his time be close? “Did he say anything?”

“Just that he wished to see you.”

He wished to see me. How could he possibly explain what he’d done, not only to me, but to his parents? To the entire city?

Blitz said, “I’ve learned of Mrs. Crawford’s whereabouts.”

I didn’t yet know who else had been in that conspiracy, but in my anger, I’d charged Blitz and Mary with finding her. “Where is she?”

“Safe and snug in a cottage on the Spadros Country House grounds.” A hard edge had snuck into his tone. “Apparently you asked Mr. Anthony to arrange a spot for her there?”

I felt crestfallen. “I did.” My hand went to my belly. “But I never expected that she’d repay me like this!”

Blitz lowered his voice to a whisper. “She wouldn’t tell me who paid her, but she got more than the cottage for doing so. And some of Mr. Roy’s men threatened me.”

I blinked. “Roy’s men threatened you?”

“They came in after me, perhaps two minutes behind, then asked me to come outside. They made it very clear I shouldn’t return.”

“Good gods,” I said. This made no sense, particularly after the discussion Roy and I had in his parlor not four months past. “And you’re sure they were Roy’s men?”

“Pretty sure,” Blitz said. “I don’t know the Country House people all that well; I haven’t been there since I was a small boy.”

The door-bell rang.

“That’s odd,” Blitz said. “I didn’t expect the carriage to be here so soon.” He disappeared into the hall.

I straightened my desk, put away the rest of the mail, took up my carpetbag, and stood.

I heard Blitz open the front door. “Oh,” he said, sounding quite taken aback. “My pardons, sir. Yes, she’s here.”

Curious as to who it might be, I went into the hall.

Mr. Charles Hart stood there.