A Victorian Tale Part 12

Chapter Twelve (ImFanci) Clark and Diana were still talking and getting to know more about each other. Clark was telling her about some of the best times of his youth. One of Jay’s nephews, Wally, was almost the same age as Clark. Wally came to visit his uncle often and befriended Clark despite the difference in their social status. One of the boys’ favorite pastimes was racing each other across the estate. They were both very fast runners, with Wally having a few more wins than Clark. One afternoon, after a summer shower had passed, they took off running – each baiting the other as they always did. As they got closer to the manor, Wally had a slight lead on Clark. He turned his head to see how much of a lead he had on Clark. But as he turned his attention back, he tripped over a tree root and fell into the muddy puddle before him. Since Clark was right behind Wally, he tripped over Wally and fell into the same puddle. Both boys groaned as they got up slowly. They looked at each other with the silliest grins as they were both covered in mud from head to toe. “Jay was none too pleased about that, and neither were my parents.” Clark finished with a chuckle. This recounting of Clark’s youth had Diana bursting with laughter. “Oh, my. It sounds like you had a wonderful childhood.” Her laughter had subsided but she was still smiling. She continued, “It is difficult to imagine you covered in mud - especially when you look very dashing tonight.” “Thank you,” was all that Clark managed to say. He was not accustomed to receiving compliments on his looks. And even more so than from one so beautiful that all she had to do was smile and hearts would melt. He knew he was strong and healthy, and there were times in his life when he felt like he was made of steel. At that moment, he did not. “You look exquisite tonight, Diana,” he added. The tone of his voice turned serious and his incredible blue eyes softened. Diana, in turn, had stopped smiling too as she regarded him with wonder and new insight. She realized her pulse had quickened and she hoped that he did not have some extraordinary hearing that he could hear her heart racing. They continued to stare at one another, not realizing that their faces had moved closer to one another and were only inches apart now. Suddenly, as if an alarm set of in each other’s head, Diana blurted, “I’m parched.” “I’ll get you something to drink,” replied Clark just as quickly as he stood up. With his eyes slightly averted, he said, “I’m sorry. I’ll be right back,” and walked back into the ballroom. Diana rose from the bench, and fanned herself as she took several steps further into the darkened courtyard. She needed to cool her jumbled, broiling emotions and clear her thoughts. Even with Bruce, she could not recall a time when he made her feel the different emotions coursing through her as Clark had just done. Sliding out from her hiding place, Mercy stealthily followed Diana. Hope had positioned herself near the entryway of the courtyard so that when the good Inspector returned to find Ms. Prince’s body, Hope would be the sole “witness” of the murder. And from what Mercy and Hope had just observed, any motive involving the feelings between Ms. Prince and the Inspector would do. It would be easy to say it was a crime of passion. The dagger Mercy was holding would be conveniently left next to the body as evidence as she disappeared into the dark. With any luck, the Inspector will pick it up to examine it, while Hope accuses she saw him holding the dagger. This was definitely too easy of a task, thought Mercy as she was within arms length behind Diana. It always gave her a twisted sense of pleasure to knife someone – man or woman. She enjoyed hearing the screams of shock and pain, and watching the life drain from their eyes and their bodies. With a chilling smile, Mercy lifted the dagger. Diana was still absorbed in her thoughts, but not too absorbed that her sharp hearing caught the quiet sound of soft footsteps and the slightest rustling of a skirts. Relying on her instincts, she turned around to face her visitor just as a dagger was raised above her head. With quick reflexes, Diana caught the descending hand with both hands, twisted her body away from her attacker, and brought her attacker’s arm over her shoulder. The mixed sounds of a bone cracking, a sharp cry, and the dagger clattering to the stone floor confirmed that she had disarmed her attacker. Still holding on to the injured attacker’s wrist, Diana turned back around to confront her, but she was blind-sided by a punch to her cheek. Diana winced as the pain reeled through the rest of her head, but she stood her ground. Her eyes were slightly blurred and she only caught a glimpse of a woman with blonde hair holding her arm as she ran off. It took a moment for her eyesight to readjust. Diana was still holding her cheek when Clark returned. He had returned with a couple of flutes of champagne. As soon as he saw the look on Diana’s face, he knew something had happened. Dropping the flutes, he rushed to her side. With one hand on her shoulder and the other gently touching her chin, he asked, “What happened?” “Someone just tried to kill me,” she replied with a calm voice that had a trace of anger behind it. “But I was able to fend off my attacker.” Immediately, Clark snapped to full alert, scanning the immediate area for an attacker and finding no one. Looking back at Diana, he continued, “Are you hurt?” Diana answered with a small shake of her head. “I should have not have left you. I should have known better. Let’s get back inside.” “Wait,” Diana said. She pressed a hand to his chest. She was amazed that she could feel his heart beating furiously. “She dropped her dagger there.” Removing her hand from his well muscled chest, she pointed to the ground a few feet away from her. “She? Well, that is a new revelation.” Almost as an afterthought, Clark added, “How did she drop it?” “Where I grew up, we were taught how to defend ourselves,” she explained matter-of-factly. “My mother insisted that I received the training that her guards had.” Diana did not cease to surprise him. Still scanning the area, Clark bent down and used the handkerchief from his breast pocket to pick up the dagger. As he wrapped it with the handkerchief, he was careful not to touch it with his fingers, and placed it inside his jacket.  “What are you doing?” Diana asked inquisitively. “I’m taking this back with me to headquarters. It hasn’t been approved yet by Metro or Scotland Yard, but there is a new way of gathering evidence against criminals. I’ll explain how it works but first we need to get you out of here.” Placing his hand behind the small of her back, he escorted her back into the ballroom. They had just stepped foot into the entryway when Bruce approached. “There you are. I was just……what the hell happened?!” he demanded as his fuming eyes flashed from Diana to Clark. Glancing at Diana, Clark was now able to see her clearly. Like Bruce, he was horrified at the slight bruise on her cheek. With a rigid stance, he turned his attention back to Bruce. “Di…Ms. Prince was attacked again. You’ll get an explanation of what transpired, but at this moment, I suggest we depart immediately to get her to a more secure location. My instincts tell me that even with a crowd of people around us, we must leave. She is still in danger, and Lord Luthor has something to do with it.” With a stiff nod, Bruce conceded. “Very well. But as soon as we get in my carriage, I want answers.” “Bruce, it wasn’t the Inspector’s fault. I asked him to fetch me a drink,” Diana interceded. Without saying another word, Bruce took over placing his hand on Diana’s back. With both men flanking her, their hurried steps attracted some curious glances. They retrieved their cloaks and exited the grand double doors. The host of the party watched as the trio left his mansion. One would not guess that behind the unwavering and relaxed smile fixed on his face, he was enraged that his plans did not proceed accordingly. Two birds were to be killed with one stone tonight - the murder of the daughter of a Contessa, who happened to be the first cousin of the King of Greece, and the fall of an old nemesis. He was not a happy man, indeed. And someone was going to pay dearly.