“And more recently,” I added. “The gentleman at the club last night—”
She pressed her lips together. “I am embarrassed that I allowed my emotions to get the better of me. I lost my composure entirely.”
“Why, Miss Elyot?” I asked, gentling my voice. “Was it because the gentleman you saw reminded you of your brother?”
She bit down hard upon one bloodless lip and nodded. “Yes,” she said in a low voice. “God help me, he did. I thought I was losing my senses, my very sanity. To have known him dead for fifteen years, and then to see a man who resembled him so closely...” Her voice trailed off and Undine covered Eliza’s small fingers with her own.
Stoker and I exchanged glances, and it was he who spoke, giving gentle voice to the obvious inference. “Miss Elyot, you said the body of your brother was not recovered from the fire. And this gentleman resembled him greatly. Further, he seemed to know you.”
He paused, letting comprehension fall, terrible as it must.
She swallowed hard. “You think this man was Julius? That somehow he survived?”
“You must allow it is possible,” I told her. “The timing of the fire was providential, was it not? Destroying all evidence against him just when the walls were closing in? You said you gave him warning of what was to come. Perhaps he saw no other way out and seized the opportunity to disappear.”
“That is monstrous,” Undine Trevelyan breathed.
“But possible,” Stoker pointed out. He turned once more to Eliza Elyot. “Is it not?”
She nodded gravely and when she spoke her voice was a horrified whisper. “Yes. Julius would never have permitted them to take him. He was too proud. I thought he would be content to die rather than face disgrace and imprisonment. But to elude capture altogether, that would have amused him.” Her mouth twisted and a harsh note sounded in her tone. “That he would have left me, believing him dead for all this time—it is unimaginable, and yet. I cannot deny it is entirely within his character. And I can find no other explanation for the man we saw last night.”
“But if it is Julius, why has he come back? What does he want?” Undine demanded.
Stoker and I studiously avoided looking at one another, but I knew he had reached the same conclusion as I, the inescapable deduction that Julius Elyot had not only survived the fire but had returned for his Beauty. There were no records from the Raby warehouse to confirm the hypothesis, but it was too elegant and tidy a hypothesis to be incorrect. Julius had arranged for her safekeeping whilst he had been abroad; now that she had disappeared from her hiding place, he had returned to find her. It would not do to alarm Miss Elyot on that score, and I was searching for some bland reply to Miss Trevelyan’s question when Eliza’s gaze sharpened.
“She survived, didn’t she? The girl from the canal? Julius’ most prized experiment? Did he leave her here in London and now he has come back?” Her eyes were bright, glittering with sudden conviction. “That is it, isn’t it? He would never have allowed her to be destroyed when the laboratory burnt. I ought to have known, ought to have guessed! He has returned forher.”
Undine pressed her hands to her cheeks, clearly horrified. “But we do not know that Julius has done anything of the kind!” she protested. “You upset yourself for nothing.”
Eliza went on as if Undine had not spoken, her voice gaining conviction with each syllable. “And Ambrose would have known of it—he must have. Julius could not have escaped English justice alone. But Ambrose had money. Julius could have done it with his help.”
“These are wild suppositions, fantasies! You must not distress yourself,” Undine urged.
“I know it is true—I feel it here!” Eliza cried, striking her breast with a fist. “He was my twin, Undine. You cannot know what that meant. He was as much a part of myself as my limbs or brain or heart. We were never divided except when he went to school. I knew him, man and boy,and I know him still. It is as though I were wandering in a fog these past years, but I see it so clearly now, his desperation, his rage. This is exactly the sort of melodrama that would appeal to him.”
“But to leave his only sister to grieve his death, to starve in the streets,” Undine began.
Eliza gave a sudden harsh laugh. “But he did not leave me to starve. I have had a small allowance to keep me clothed and fed, remember? And by whose hand?Ambrose Despard’s. No, Julius crafted some diabolical plot, and Ambrose has been his henchman. If only there were proof of it!” She dropped her head into her hands with an anguished sob.
“But there is,” I told her.
Eliza looked up sharply. “What do you mean?”
“Last night,” Stoker said. “When the gentleman you believe to be your brother left the club, he got into a private conveyance—a carriage bearing the arms of Ambrose Despard.”
For a long moment, Eliza was motionless, bloodless it seemed, all colour and vitality drained from her face. She sat, unblinking and silent, until Undine groped once more for her hand. “It is true then,” she said finally. “Julius is returned. And Ambrose knows it—has known it all these years. Yet he never saw fit to tell me.”
“It is unforgivable,” Undine said. “To aid Julius was criminal enough, but not to warn you that he was alive and back in London—why, Julius might have killed you last night!”
Eliza flinched at this and Stoker leant forwards. “Miss Trevelyan is right. If your brother bears you any ill will from what happened fifteen years ago, then you are not safe. We can go to Lord Ambrose and speak with him—”
“No,” she cut in firmly. “Mr. Templeton-Vane, I appreciate your concern, truly. But I acted precipitately once before, and my brother escaped justice. If we do not proceed quite carefully this time, he may do so once more. And this time he may be forever lost.” She paused andturned to collect us all with her imploring gaze. “This has all been the most tremendous shock. I am unable to think as clearly as I ought, but I do know we must be cautious in our approach. I ask for your word as a gentleman that you will not approach either my brother or Lord Ambrose until we have spoken again and developed some plan of action when our minds are cool and rational.”
“Of course,” he told her solemnly. She put out her hand and he seized it in his larger one.
She moved to shake mine then to strike the same bargain, and I held hers fast. “You have my word, Miss Elyot. But I shall require yours.”
Her thin brows raised in surprise. “Mine? In what capacity?”