The Assassin’s Guide to Falling in Love (The Ladies League #1)

Chapter Sixteen

L ou retreated to her home, her childhood home, and tried to set aside her anger—and more importantly, the overwhelming feeling of betrayal.

She was tangled up with the Lord of Cogs, the infamous leader of the Free Steam movement. A figurehead, mainly, since he was so reclusive as to never be seen. A mystery man. She snorted.

Griff’s treachery searing through her heart somehow rivaled the outsized sense of betrayal she had always associated with her parent’s death. Certainly it was not their fault they were killed, but she couldn’t help but feel her life would have been different had they made different choices. Had they lived. She might have met Griff as a debutante…perhaps fallen in love. Without a doubt, she would not have become an assassin and Madame; would not have sought the revenge that led her down the dark path that changed the course of her life.

While she had come to accept her life, such as it was, moving back into her childhood home—even under protest—was a painful reminder of all that she had lost.

Sitting alone in her bedchamber, too upset to do much more than brood, Lou picked at the dinner tray Mrs. Moore had brought up for her. It was after midnight before she bothered to get up and carry the still mostly full tray back downstairs using the candle Mrs. Moore had thoughtfully included. As Lou carefully put the uneaten food back into cupboards, a soft knock sounded against the back door.

Lou approached the door cautiously; she was not expecting any visitors, but the mystery guest on the other side proceeded to knock twice, pause, three times, pause, and then once.

It’s Holt. Anger speared through her in an unexpected blast.

Lou opened the door and found her friend-cum-handler huddled in the shadows. She quickly ushered him into the kitchen. “Holt, what are you doing here?”

If she hadn’t seen his book of profiles, she might have wondered how he knew where to find her, but clearly her friend and handler knew far more than anyone would want him to.

Bloody keeper of secrets.

“You came to visit my office today.” He eyed her with a wariness she hadn’t seen from him in many years, the same sense of estrangement and caution roaring through her veins followed quickly by exhaustion.

“I did. That’s an interesting little treasure trove of information you have there.” She waited for his reaction. He nodded in acknowledgement, but said nothing more. After all these years that’s all he has to offer? A nod. The silence stretched between them as she wrestled with the twin tentacles of anger and disappointment until she broke it. “Tea?”

“Please.” Holt followed her inside and took a seat at the kitchen table, where he sat perfectly still and waited while she set the kettle on the stove.

Lou couldn’t look at him as she spoke. She feared dissolving into tears for the third time in as many days. “I learned a few interesting things today. In particular, you know who the Lord of Cogs is, but have done nothing about it despite the Crown’s—or more aptly the Bureau’s, stance on him and his Tinker compatriots.”

He sighed. “You…are correct. I find I disagree with the aggressive stance—detainment, persecution, and in some cases eradication—that the current Bureau leadership is taking. Since they do not know who he is, they cannot do anything about him or the Tinkers. The Lord of Cogs may be a symbol, but he is also the true leader of that group. Without him, the Tinkers would be directionless, leaving electricity to take over as the predominate energy source—plunging our poorest and most vulnerable into darkness.”

Lou considered his words for a moment. “I take it you have concerns about such a turn of events.” Confusion seared through her disappointment and anger.

Does he not trust me?

A sick churning took up in her gut at the thought, because he’d been the one and only person she trusted—well, mostly trusted. As much as she trusted anyone.

Holt nodded. “I do. Electricity will benefit the wealthy, the entitled. It will widen the gap between the haves and the have-nots in a way that I believe may permanently damage our society. What happens when the have-nots are left with no hope of rising from poverty? When there ceases to be a working class because the have-nots are left no means by which to survive? When the have-nots can barely afford a roof and a meal? Anarchy happens. The very fabric of society will crumble—unless the foundation is solid. Those who make up the lower classes are that foundation.” His words resonated in both the silence and in her own heart.

“So, now the question of who tried to kill Griff is even more concerning,” Lou said darkly, trying not to notice the twist of her heart as she said his name. “If it is the Bureau, then someone in leadership knows the truth. If it is not, then the situation could be even more dire…or completely ridiculous.” The kettle whistled, and she automatically rose to pour the water into the teapot, relishing the instinctive motion. Thinking, feeling hurts. Silence ruled as the tea steeped until it was ready to pour. She did the honors, still processing everything she had learned so far.

“I take it he had not told you who he was.” Holt took the hot porcelain cup from her and added milk and liberal sugar to his tea.

“No, he neglected to mention that detail, even after I specifically asked if there was anything else I needed to know. I am displeased, to put it lightly.” Displeased? Such a mild term for how she felt at the moment. A superheated steam engine on the verge of exploding under the pressure of rage and pain from a dual betrayal. Yet Lou sipped her own brew, hot and black, and kept her gaze away from her handler. Her friend. One of her betrayers?

“But he remains alive, I assume.”

“For the moment. How long that state lasts remains to be seen since I believe I am done with him.” Her hand trembled when she set her cup down as an insidious doubt took up residence in her heart. Her battered, bruised, and bloodied heart. Will I walk away and let him die?

“Do not be so hard on the man. He has kept his secret for a long time. It cannot be a simple thing to trust someone who only recently tried to kill you.” Holt let one brow quirk up, a movement she could not ignore.

Lou sighed. He is right, of course . Damn him. “Under ordinary circumstances I would agree, but someone is trying to kill him. How can I be expected to keep him alive if I don’t know where the threat is coming from? This was a key piece of information.” She huffed out a breath of annoyance, though whether it was for herself or Griff she wasn’t sure. “We also became…intimate. It was under the guise of our cover, and yet I think I may have allowed things to get more….” She hesitated. “More personal than they should have. So his silence, his secret feels like a deep betrayal.” The last part was nearly whispered, but Holt clearly heard her.

He closed his eyes a moment then looked at her solemnly. “I withheld it as well. Does this mean you are severing our arrangement?” Holt sipped his tea.

She wanted to jump up and pace, wanted to rail against liars—especially those who lied to her for their own ends. Instead, Lou drew in a deep cleansing breath and tried to push back the vortex of volatile emotions so she could listen. “Yes, you did. Why was that, precisely? When exactly did you stop trusting me?”

“Oh Lou, it was never a lack of trust.” He reached for his cup of tea but nearly knocked it over causing a clatter of dishes that made her jump. He set everything to rights and reached for her hand, but she jerked away from him, unable to bear the sympathy she saw gleaming in his eyes.

He pulled his hands back and sighed once more. “So few people know the truth. I had assumed he would tell you himself, and when I realized he hadn’t, when we spoke at the masquerade…I nearly told you. But knowing how poorly you react to things you see as betrayal—and I knew you would see this as a betrayal after what your Uncle did—I opted not to say anything to ensure you got him to safety. When I saw you leaving my office, I knew it was too late to tell you. I’m sorry Lou, I should have told you sooner.”

She listened to his explanation as anger flashed through her, hot and scalding, but not so heated she couldn’t hear all that he said and some of what he didn’t. Holt was different. She’d known him longer, worked with him during some of the darkest hours England had ever faced, and Holt had never been a mark. He’d also never lied to her in the eighteen years she’d known him.

Not to mention, they’d never slept together.

“You know our relationship is…different,” Lou said, a little awkwardly. “I’ve known you longer, worked with you in ways that build trust. I don’t yet have that with Griff—may never have that.” Her stomach twisted in a knot.

Her friend looked at her for a moment, letting the silence stretch between them before breaking it again. “I see. It is worse than I imagined.”

“It was too late by the time we spoke. The damage had been done.” Lou stood, giving in to her urge to move. “Are you telling me I have to protect him?”

Holt’s dark, fathomless eyes softened. “I shall remind you that he is an innocent man—”

She whipped around, a burst of fury blasting out of her. “The Lord of Cogs is not innocent. Nobody is, Holt. Don’t be so naive, I expect more from a seasoned intelligence officer,” she said all but sneering the final words.

Her friend remained calm in the face of her anger. “Very well—he is not guilty of anything that warrants his death. He is the titular head of a non-violent segment of our population. In a democracy, that means he has the right to stand in opposition to the government, and to do so in relative safety.”

Lou hated the truth of Holt’s words. Wanted to rail at him, but instead she listened when he continued.

“I believe the person behind this has less than pure motives. In fact, I am almost certain greed is at the center of this. Which makes it all the more distasteful.” Holt suddenly looked tired.

But Lou was beyond caring at the moment. “Do tell, because you seem to know far more than I do.” There was no hiding her bitterness in that statement. Her tea forgotten, Lou continued to walk the short width of the kitchen. If I keep moving, maybe the sadness will remain at bay…

“I don’t honestly know, but I have a hunch. Normally I would go and investigate this for you, but I have other pressing matters that may be related to this. I need you to follow the money trail and figure out if my instinct is right.” Holt sipped his tea and waited.

“I suppose you are right.” Lou hated feeling like a recalcitrant child. I am an assassin! She stopped pacing and faced Holt as she tried to firm up her resolve to do the right thing. “What should I be looking for? Cash? Ledgers?”

“I often am.” He winked. “Go to the Voltacrats’ headquarters and see what you can find. They are able to exist, to be active, because they are well funded. There must be records of some kind.” Holt didn’t smile, but he exuded a sense of calm certainty that had Lou wanting to act.

Her hands twitched with the need to move. Anything to escape the tumult of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. “I can go tonight, there’s still time—”

“No. You need to ensure Lord Melton is safe first.” For some reason, Holt hesitated. “Make things right with him so you have someone to watch your back. You need a clear head if you are going to dig into this.”

Lou nodded slowly. Her sense of justice, though slightly warped, was still mostly intact and, as Holt said, having someone at her back could only be a boon. Even if she did not wish to see him. “Very well. I shall go see Griff in the morning. Perhaps he can join me in the search and shed some light on what we find at the Voltacrats office. After all, as the Lord of Cogs I would imagine he has access to his own intelligence network.” She offered a wry smile, though it hurt to do it.

“Just remember, knowledge can be dangerous. Whether the people in charge see you as a defender of the man they want dead or merely a pawn to be used against him, you are without a doubt in the line of fire.”

“I shall keep that in mind as I press on. You should be careful as well. I shall be very displeased if you get yourself killed.”

Much to Lou’s annoyance, Holt snorted.

“Snort all you like. If you die it will lead to a very bloody mess.” And that was as close to telling him how she felt about him as she was comfortable getting for the moment.

His gleaming teeth made a slash in the shadows that shrouded his face and then he rose from the kitchen table. “I wonder if you’d tell Lord Melton the same thing?” Without another word, he departed her kitchen.

Alone again, she considered Holt’s parting words. Lord Melton was nothing like Holt; Griff was not a man she’d known for nearly a decade. He was …she hesitated. He was many things, but would she kill over him? To protect him? Certainly. But if he was expired unexpectedly, would she hunt down the ones responsible and render her own brand of justice? Lou’s gut reaction scared her sufficiently that she decided to push the unwelcome thought aside.

Better that she focus on how she would handle the man in question.

As Lou retreated upstairs to her bedchamber, she considered her visceral reaction that afternoon, blasting him for his secret.

“I’ve always worked alone in the past, and this—this is why. I cannot work with someone I can’t trust.”

Something that she suspected might be regret settled into her bones and made her stomach feel queer. She had shot into the brown and now she had to recover. How exactly did one apologize for an anger born of her past experience? Of a betrayal by her uncle that cut so deep she had yet to fully recover?

Perhaps the best apology would be to ensure his safety. She could watch over him as he slept and then untangle how to apologize in the light of day.

Lou arrived outside Griff’s home and stashed her steam cycle in the shadows behind the mews, tiredness tugging at her eyes. As she crept up to the back of the house, she spotted a movement in the shadows. Another person, lurking.

Abandoning her plan to slip in and head to Griff’s room to check on him, she followed the shadow. Not surprisingly, they used the same entry point she had used not so long ago—surprising. After her second visit via his library window, he had done nothing to secure that entry. Tsk. Tsk . She would have to speak to Griff about that.

She followed the intruder up the trellis, over the balcony, and into the library. Fortunately, Griff was not there…but then, neither was the intruder. Damnit . They were moving quickly. As if they knew where he would be.

Lou headed straight for the stairs and caught the person—who had remained blissfully unaware of her presence—just cutting to the right. She charged ahead, trying to catch up with the shadow before they made Griff’s chamber, or what she assumed was his chamber, since that was where they were most likely headed.

Suddenly there was a thump and a grunt from the room the shadow had slipped into. Lou didn’t bother to slow down as she barreled through the door and aimed at the dark shape that had Griff pinned to the floor, his voice echoing round the room with colorful curses.

“You steamed-damned bastard! Get off me!” Griff’s low rumble was muffled as he struggled with his attacker.

Lou smacked into the shadow, causing the trio to roll and collide with the bed. A grunt escaped her, but she quickly separated the struggling men and clung to the intruder’s hips and wrists with her knees and hands until she had them underneath her. Griff had scrambled to his feet and out of the way leaving Lou to focus on one thing: his assassin.

The attacker had a knife in their hand and a black half-mask on his face. The rest of him was covered in head to toe black, including a hood that covered his head. With a snarl, he—and it was most definitely a man—jerked an arm free of her grasp. He jabbed at her with his knife, but she blocked the strike with her free arm and grabbed her own blade from the sheath strapped to her chest. Without hesitation, she blocked a second strike and then jammed her Kukri knife into his throat.

A clean kill. Chalk up another one.

The gurgling noise the brute made as she withdrew her blade assured her of two things. His jugular had been nicked, if not severed, and his airway was fully compromised. She wiped her blade on the man’s shirt and stood up, turning to face Griff who stood looking on in shock.

He had just watched her kill a man, and she had no regrets since it saved Griff’s life. Still, Lou repressed a sigh. This would likely change things, more so than her earlier display had. “Come with me.”

Griff followed obediently, eyes still wide, until they were in the hallway and away from the body. Then he stepped in front of her and took her by the shoulders. “Are you unharmed?”

A small smile threatened to stretch her lips. He cared. But she needed to stay focused now. She couldn’t entertain the joy that he was alive right now. “I’m fine. Were you injured?” She ran her hands down his arms and stepped back to inspect him further.

Griff shook his head. “Thank you for coming to my rescue, though I was fairly certain I was about to get the upper-hand.”

Lou snorted. “You’re welcome.” She hesitated a moment. “I…I’m sorry for earlier.”

“You had every right to be angry. I just wish you would have let me explain.” Griff hauled her into his arms and held her for a long moment. She didn’t fight him, just savored the feel of him pressed against her, healthy and whole.

Ignoring the pressure in her chest that spoke of big emotions she couldn’t face, Lou stepped back from his embrace and tried to pull her professional mantle back in place. “Explanations can wait. For now, I need to contact Elena, Katerina, and Mary Margaret so we can clean up your bedchamber. We know a place they can bury the body. Do you have a maid you trust implicitly? Mary Margaret can help her clean up the mess in your room. The blood will stain if we do not clean it quickly.”

“Let me rouse Higgins. He can send a houseboy with your message while we begin sorting things out here.” Griff took her hand and led her downstairs.

By the pre-dawn hours, the body had been removed, the floor of his bedchamber scrubbed with bicarbonate of soda—a new but very useful discovery—and his home was nearly back to rights. Higgins worked with Lou’s team seamlessly, and when the girls had returned to The Market, Lou sat down with Griff on the sofa in his library and drew a breath.

This was not going to be easy—so business first. “First, and most important, you must address the security of your home. If you are going to continue in your role as Lord of Cogs you cannot have your library acting as the Nine Elms train station with people coming and going at will.”

Griff snorted lightly, but nodded his agreement.

“Second, I should state that for our cover purposes, our betrothal is not broken. I…I hope you haven’t told your mother otherwise.”

He shook his head. “No, I had hoped to speak to you in the morning and convince you to hear me out.” His smile was sheepish. “But I also knew you needed time to digest the truth and possibly calm that fiery temper of yours. I did not wish to end up at the wrong end of your Kukri knife.”

Steaming hells! Was she such a tyrant? Her face heated as she sucked in a breath and braced herself to utter the words she’d come there to say. “Very good, we are agreed. Finally, I…I need to apologize properly. I reacted poorly to the revelation of who you really are. I don’t trust easily after my…my uncle’s betrayal.” She drew a breath and willed her hands not to shake. “He is the man who raised me after my parents’ death. He trained me. Taught me everything I know and helped me exact my revenge on the men who took my parents’ lives.”

Griff reached over and engulfed her hand in his, squeezing it in a gentle reassurance that felt foreign to her, made her itch with the need to pull away and pretend indifference.

Instead, she chose to be honest with him. Perhaps even a bit vulnerable. “But then I discovered that despite my having explained to him that I would only kill those who deserved such an outcome, those who had killed, maimed, or stolen from those who could not defend themselves, I learned he was not vetting our contracts. He just wanted the money and I…I began to venture out on my own.” The all too familiar fury her uncle’s actions caused flared to life. “He took the details we needed and the payment. He did nothing to validate why we were killing people.”

She drew in a long breath and let it out. “Just before I discovered this, Holt had approached me about working for him. For the Crown. I first met him when he hired my uncle and I to do a job for the Crown.” She huffed out a breath. “I was practically still a girl, barely of age to come out. I’d only killed two men at that point, but I was perfect for the job.”

She gathered her thoughts. Remembered how Holt and treated her like an older brother even then. “Later he hired me for a job my uncle was unaware of. It felt right to use my skills for the greater good. So I went to my uncle and laid out my concerns, which he dismissed as being economically shortsighted. That was when I quit. I told him I was going to work for the government. He swore then and there that if he was ever hired to kill me…well, that he would take the contract.”

She drew a deep breath. He needed to understand how deep the betrayal went.

“Soon after I discovered that he had also cleared out my account while acting as my guardian. I was left with nothing from my parents or from the contracts I fulfilled with my uncle. I was destitute except for the home my parents had bequeathed me. Suddenly, I had to work for the Crown in order to survive.”

“Cogging hell. I’m so sorry, Lou.” Griff shoved his hand through his hair, making it stand out from his head in a wild tangle.

“So you see, the issue is I wanted very much to trust you. I still do. Discovering you were the Lord of Cogs felt like a betrayal, and it cut me deeply.” A bitter smile crept across her lips as her head tilted.

He squeezed her hand again as they sat together on the sofa. “I hope you will accept my sincere apologies. I never meant to hurt you. That first night I was still feeling wary about trusting you, feeling vulnerable from the unexpected attack. And then as I got to know you, understood where your thoughts fell on the question of steam, and we became intimate…as I told you last night, I wrote a confession to you.” He stood up and went to his desk, returning with a folded note that he handed to her.

Steaming hell, we made a mess of things . Lou’s gut twisted as she read what he’d written. She looked up at him, her heart in her throat, but still felt too raw to say the words which floated in her head. The betrayal was still too fresh.

Griff cleared his throat and sat down again. “Just as you let your past experiences color your perspectives, I did the same. After having been rejected for my interest in tinkering, let alone my political leanings, I feared that same response from you—feared how you would react to my deception.”

The heft of her poor decisions weighed on her like an air-ship anchor. Lou smiled sadly. “An excellent friend recently reminded me that you had as many reasons not to trust me as I had not to trust you in that scenario.”

“Well, I promise you I have no more secrets.” He hesitated. “Errr… Well, I won’t after I show you my workshop and a note I discovered after you left last night.”

Lou nodded, feeling a warmth in her chest that was suspiciously like hope, though it was tangled with trepidation. “I’d very much like to see both.”

They stood with her hand tucked securely in his and started toward the fireplace. He reached up and pulled a piece of the decorative carvings on the mantle, and to Lou’s astonishment, the whole thing swung inward.

Her gasp was followed by, “I swore I had seen you coming out of a tunnel with that investigator, but I assumed I was so upset I had remembered things incorrectly.”

Griff chuckled. “No, I had this constructed before I moved in. I used free steam supporters to ensure it would remain secret.”

“Well done, my lord.” Lou ducked her head and followed him into the heart of who he was.

This was a huge thing for him to share; if his identity was already compromised—and it was—this was the evidence his enemies needed to expose him or justify his death. That he was showing this to her made her chest squeeze. She felt raw, as though her very skin had been peeled back. The need to guard her heart remained strong even as she yearned for his touch.

In his workshop, Griff allowed her to investigate on her own, the dankness of the room reminding her they were below ground. She looked at the various projects that were in progress and a few finished items he had left on a workbench at the rear of the space. The walls were brick, clearly part of the home’s cellar. Gas piping lined the walls allowing the gas lamps around the room to flicker as they shed light on everything. The rough wood workbenches were spread out, but she wasn’t sure what the logic was behind their arrangement, though she was certain it made some sense to Griff. She wanted to gush over his various inventions, but refused to open herself up so readily just yet. He had hurt her with his deception.

“Here is the letter I spoke of.” He handed her the folded sheet of stationery.

Lou could see where he had broken the wax seal that bore a V surrounded by a laurel wreath on it when he opened the letter. The handwriting scrawled across the page was elegant yet masculine. Nothing else of particular interest stood out until she read the words.

Lord of Cogs,

We know your identity and we have proof of who you are. If you wish to protect the good name of your family and possibly their lives, you will do as we demand. Leave England forever, within the fortnight. If you do not comply, you will risk not only your family’s good name, but your own life—and possibly theirs.

Do not test our resolve on this matter.

“Bloody hell!” Lou glared at him, fierce in her protective anger. “Why didn’t you bring this to me as soon as you read it? I could have been here to prevent what happened in the night.”

“You were so furious when you left, I decided to manage the situation as best I could on my own. At least until I could convince you to speak with me…hear me out.” Griff shrugged.

She couldn’t deny she had been furious—and had he appeared on her doorstep moments after she’d left him, she would have closed the door in his face. Lou sighed. “We need to solve this mystery immediately. It has lingered too long. We shall go to the Voltacrats’ offices tonight to investigate. See if we can find any clues to help us end this threat to you and your family.”

Fear of losing him warred with her sense of betrayal. She may not fully trust him, but she cared for him, and she needed to end this threat.

But could she do that and still protect her heart from further damage?