Chapter 17
17
Liam walked into his study, lit a taper on the fire and held it to the wick of the lamp on his table. Turning the light up, he pulled the brass key out of his pocket, sat in his chair, and unlocked the bottom drawer on his left. It took moments to move the papers aside, pop out the false bottom and retrieve the letters his brother received. He didn’t need his brother’s letters, but something about having them near felt right. It felt lucky. And Liam could use a little luck tonight.
He thought about pouring himself a brandy, but before he could stand to do so, the door opened and a man walked into the room. He wore a full mask; not even his mouth was displayed. His suit was of high quality, but the cut was loose, making it impossible to discern his build beyond that of an average man.
‘Lord Renquist.’ He spoke in a whispery rasp. A ploy to hide the true quality of his voice.
‘And you are?’ Liam knew he wouldn’t answer, but it seemed the obvious thing to ask.
‘The Snake. That’s all you need know for now.’ The man kept to the shadows. ‘Master Barrington informed me of your wish for a meeting.’
Liam needed to stay calm when every particle of his being wanted to leap from the desk, tackle the man, rip off his mask, identify him, and demand to know the other two leaders of the Devil’s Sons before beating him bloody with his bare fists. Instead, he inclined his head.
I am not ruled by my anger.
Willing his voice to remain calm, Liam leaned back in his chair. ‘Did he also tell you of my demands? I wish to be a member of the Devil’s Sons. And I’m willing to pay for my membership by granting your brotherhood access to my ships.’
The man stood silently.
‘If that isn’t enough, I have more incentive. My brother had quite a knack for correspondence.’ Liam picked up the stack of papers and tapped them on the desk. ‘He wasn’t one to throw anything away. There are things in these letters you wouldn’t want revealed to the commissioner, I assure you.’ Liam was lying. Nothing in the letters identified any members of the Devil’s Sons, nor their deeds, but the Snake didn’t know it.
Again, the man stayed infuriatingly silent. Liam’s anger rose. He ground his teeth, waiting him out.
I know this game. I can play it longer and better than you.
The Snake exhaled in a hiss of breath reminding Liam of his sobriquet. ‘I knew your father. Capital man. Always was disappointed in his sons. Said you didn’t have what was necessary to be a truly commanding marquess. Didn’t have the killer instinct, were the exact words I recall him saying.’
Fuck.
He had heard the same words come out of his father’s mouth more than once. If this man knew his father, then he must be in the higher levels of the House of Lords. His father didn’t socialise with lesser blue bloods.
The man’s eyes narrowed behind his mask, though it was too dark for Liam to discern their colour. Instead, he listened for inflection, odd pronunciation. Anything that might help him identify the Snake.
‘He hoped the war would carve out a stronger man, but then he died before you came home. Is this your chance to prove yourself to your father? See if you are worthy to join a club he would have been so eager to take part in himself?’
The very idea of emulating his father made Liam violently ill, but he schooled his features.
‘I have always done my best to make him proud.’ Lies . Liam leaned into them. ‘This is one more step in accomplishing my goal. Do we have an accord? My ships for membership to the Devil’s Son and a share of the profits?’ He picked up a freshly written contract. ‘I have a contract here that, if signed, will keep us both invested in secrecy. If either one of us is discovered, we are both implicated. Rather helpful at establishing trust, don’t you think?’
The man’s laughter was dry and ended on a cough. ‘Getting a little ahead of yourself, Renquist. Your offer of ships is much appreciated, and we may take you up on it at some point, but before we establish trust, I need to know your father was wrong. That you have what it takes to be a commanding marquess.’
‘What are you suggesting?’
‘We are in constant need of product, Lord Renquist. That is your first step in earning our trust. Providing us with cargo. Proving you have the bollocks to go as far as we might need.’
Girls. Fucking say it. Young, innocent girls. Not product. Not cargo. Women. But you won’t admit what you’re asking me to procure, because then you’d have to acknowledge the depths of your sins.
To win this man over, he would have to do the unthinkable. Risk the life of an innocent.
Though his expression was hidden, Liam could hear the smug smile in the Snake’s words. ‘It’s time to prove you are more than just blustering words, William. Meet me in a week’s time with product in hand. If your contribution meets our expectations, and your offer of shipping still stands, then we shall have an accord. I shall sign your contract, and you will be one step closer to earning your father’s pride. Even from the grave.’
Liam forced his mouth into a smile when all he wanted to do was snarl. ‘Where shall we meet?’
The man stepped back, his hand on the door handle. The click of the latch reverberated like a gunshot in the quiet room. ‘An invitation will arrive later in the week. Come alone. Except for the product, of course. And don’t disappoint us. This could be a very lucrative deal for everyone.’
Light spilled in from the hallway, briefly illuminating the dark blue of the man’s suit before he stepped out and shut the door quickly behind him.
A red haze was descending. Liam bit his cheek and focused on that sharp pain.
I will be one step closer to ending your life, and the lives of your disgusting friends.
Liam needed to re-join the party. He wanted to find Penny. Hold her close. Remind himself the world still held beauty. But first, he needed to calm his rage, control his burning desire to find the man and tear him apart one particle at a time.
Penny held her breath as unshed tears burned her eyes. She leaned against the cramped wall of the small alcove between the study and the hall. It was a servants’ entrance to the back of Liam’s study where cleaning supplies and implements were kept close at hand. While she couldn’t see the interaction between Liam and his mysterious guest, she heard everything in devastating detail.
Relief and disappointment battled when she realised the letter she pilfered wasn’t even Liam’s. But then he made his deal with the mysterious bastard, and the meeting was set for an unthinkable exchange. A girl’s life for the price of admission into the Devil’s Sons.
This is the evidence I’ve been searching to find.
But elation didn’t fill her at the success of her mission. Her heart shattered. Liam was guilty. Of terrible crimes. And she could no longer harbour any soft feelings for the man. She could no longer let herself be swept away in a fantasy where the maid found her happiness with the marquess. And she could also no longer wait to report him. Something needed to be done before another innocent girl fell victim. With Constable Sweet entertaining his wife and sister-in-law in Bath, she would have to take matters into her own hands.
She waited until she heard Liam leave the room, then exited into the main hall. She sniffed sharply and exhaled a breath. Her corset dug into her ribs, the weight of so many petticoats and skirts pulled heavily on her hips, and she longed to take off the heeled slippers rubbing blisters into her toes. But even more desperately, she longed to complete her mission and leave this place. Return to her simple servant’s life and forget the man who once lit her soul on fire. Who then burned it to cinders.
He would be looking for her in the ballroom, but how could she possibly face him? Knowing the deal he made with the Devil’s Sons? Knowing what he planned to do to earn his membership into their brotherhood? How could she look into his beautiful amber gaze and pretend she saw a man and not a monster?
The commissioner.
He is here. Tonight. It may be the only way I can gain an audience with him. If I can find him… I can tell him now and end this horrible affair.
End anything of beauty existing between Penny and Liam.
Liam already ended things when he made his deal.
Tears threatened again as her throat grew thick. She swallowed hard and shook her head. She would not let her emotions cloud her judgment. There would be time to berate herself for falling victim to the charms of an evil man later. Now, she must focus on ensuring that evil man was held accountable.
As she entered the ballroom, she searched the crowd. Trying to find the commissioner by sight was a wasted effort. Even if she knew what the man looked like, everyone was wearing masks. Though not everyone was disguised. The Duchess of Dorsett, for example, was hardly hiding in the shadows. Her resplendent black-and-silver hair, her glittering dress of midnight and flames, her very posture and bearing set her apart from the others.
Before she could determine her next steps, Millicent rushed over, gathering Penny’s hands in her own. ‘Are you having a wonderful time, Penny? What fun it is to finally converse with you as friends, and not as a lady and her maid.’ Millicent’s dark eyes flashed with affection. ‘I do so miss seeing you.’
Penny bit her lip. ‘I may need a new position sooner than I thought. Perhaps you would be willing to take me back as your lady’s maid?’
Millicent’s copper brows drew down in concern. ‘Are you not happy here with Lord Renquist?’
Penny wanted nothing more than to tell Millicent everything. Unburden her heavy heart and let someone else carry the weight for a while. Lean on her as a friend. But this was neither the time nor the place for such damning confessions and as much as Millie might say they were friends, Penny was still a servant, even cloaked in silk and lace.
Still, maybe she can help me.
‘I’m perfectly fine. I need to find the commissioner. Do you know the man?’
Millie frowned. ‘I don’t. But I know someone who does.’ Grabbing Penny’s hand, she dragged her through the crowd, snagging a protesting Ivy, who was hiding behind the refreshment table. Eventually, the trio came upon Philippa.
Philippa was staring intently across the ballroom at a stunning woman in a white and purple gown. ‘Who is that?’ Millicent asked sweetly, batting her eyes from beneath her mask.
Philippa turned quickly, a look of surprise on her face. Penny would guess the duchess wasn’t used to being taken unawares.
‘No one. At least, no one you need to worry about.’
‘I know who she is. Marchioness Brightmore.’ Ivy smiled across the ballroom at the beautiful woman.
‘How do you know her?’ Philippa’s voice held a tone Penny had never heard before from the duchess. Alarm.
Ivy turned to the indomitable woman. ‘She’s heading up the Lady’s Syndicate for Foundling Children. I’m on the board. I told you this.’
‘You failed to mention the marchioness.’ Philippa rubbed her index finger against her thumb in small circles.
‘Because I didn’t think it an important detail.’ Ivy’s gaze returned to Lady Brightmore before swinging back to the duchess. ‘Is it?’
Philippa pressed her crimson lips into a hard line. ‘No. It is not.’ She turned her attention back to the ladies. ‘Ah. Penny. You look rather well suited to silk and sparkles.’
Penny shouldn’t be surprised the duchess immediately identified her. Even in a sumptuous gown and glittering mask, it wasn’t easy to mislead the Duchess of Dorsett.
‘Penny needs our help, Philippa.’
The duchess arched a black brow. ‘Does she? Do tell.’
Millicent turned to Penny and nodded encouragement.
Oh dear.
The idea of asking the Duchess of Dorsett for help – confidante to the Queen, one of the most powerful women in the beau monde, and potentially a lethal force – was incredibly daunting. All the moisture in her mouth evaporated and her tongue stuck.
‘Um, yes. Well.’ She tried to take a calming breath, but it only invigorated the bees buzzing in her belly. ‘I know you’ve been investigating Lord Renquist. And I have found damning evidence against him. Evidence I need to present to the commissioner. I was hoping you might point me in his general direction.’
Philippa’s brow rose higher. She thwacked her fan against her skirts and a jewel dislodged, pinging against the floor before disappearing beneath the slippers of a woman wearing an ungodly shade of puce velvet.
‘Fascinating, Penny. You continue to astound. I wager this evidence should not be shared in such a public venue. I do know the commissioner. Unfortunately. And while I loathe to spend any amount of time with the man, for this particular revelation, I can make an exception.’
Penny’s bees started to swarm. Why on earth did Philippa carry such a dislike for the commissioner? Not that it was any of Penny’s business. Nor should it matter. But still. ‘Can we trust him?’
Philippa’s crimson lips curled in a cold smile. Her white teeth flashed in the candlelight. ‘In this matter, I believe we can. I shall find him. You know this house better than I; where should we meet?’
Penny thought for a moment. ‘The library.’
‘Wonderful.’ Philippa nodded, then, like a stately ship setting to sail across stormy seas, she moved through the crowd as lords and ladies parted on either side of her.
‘I think Drake will want to hear this. Do you mind terribly?’
Penny had no idea what she was doing, but if Major General Drake Beaufort wanted to help, who was she to dissuade him?
‘Come on, Ivy. We should mention this to Hannah and Killian as well. Penny, go to the library. We will be there forthwith.’ Millie pushed Penny gently then hooked her arm through Ivy’s and tugged the woman through the crowd to her Major General Drake, who stood a head taller than the men around him.
Dear God. What wheels have I put into motion?
But it was too late now. She was trapped in the runaway cart and there was no jumping out.
Penny paced back and forth on the thick rug, refusing to look at the piano. Refusing to remember Liam’s face caught in the agony and beauty of creation as melancholy music poured from his fingers. Refusing to remember what happened when he stopped playing and pulled her from the shadows into the yellow pool of light.
Thankfully, she didn’t have to wait long. The door opened and Philippa sailed in, a tall man in a black suit walking behind her. He wore no mask and could only be the commissioner. While he was younger than she expected, hard lines bracketed his stern mouth. His eyes were a shade of blue reminding Penny of the bottom of a thick, glass bottle. His jaw was wide and firm. Black hair, salted with a sprinkling of silver, was combed into uniform precision. Standing next to Philippa, the two made a strikingly similar and beautiful couple.
‘Is this the girl?’ His gaze flicked to Philippa. ‘She doesn’t look like a servant.’
Philippa’s crimson lips pressed together, tasting the man’s words and finding them sour. She removed her own mask so Penny followed suit, grateful to be free of the itchy thing. ‘Her name is Penny. And she doesn’t look like a servant because she is wearing the dress of a lady. Some might say there really isn’t any more difference between the two than that.’ Philippa turned from the commissioner and stepped away. When she looked at Penny, her lips softened. ‘Tell him what you know, Penny.’
Before she could begin, the door opened and Millicent, Ivy, Hannah, Drake, and Killian filed into the library, all bereft of masks. It would seem the time for concealment was over. Killian’s brows rose when he saw the commissioner.
‘Worthington. What the devil is going on?’
Philippa waved her hand impatiently. ‘Not now, Killian.’
Hannah looked between Philippa and Worthington. ‘This can’t be you’re informant from Scotland Yard? The man you refused to ever tell me about? The one you implied was actually a woman?’
Worthington glared at Hannah, then Philippa. His face flushed and the tips of his ears turned pink.
Philippa shrugged. ‘Unfortunately, he is not a woman. But yes. Commissioner Worthington is the informant who has been helping us with this case.’
Killian’s mouth almost fell open as he moved opposite the commissioner and Philippa. He stared at Worthington. ‘You are working for the Queen? Does the prime minister know?’
Commissioner Worthington straightened his jacket, his face in profile as he glared at Philippa. ‘I suppose you think this is funny.’
Philippa arched a brow. ‘Nothing about this situation is remotely amusing. But I am enjoying your discomfort.’ She turned to Killian. ‘Yes, he works for the Queen. No, the prime minister doesn’t know.’
‘He soon will,’ Drake thundered as he strode across the library floor, joining Killian while Millie and Ivy gathered by Penny near the settee.
Philippa fixed her gaze on Drake. ‘Telling the prime minister about this would be a very, very stupid thing to do. I can assure you, Queen Victoria would not be pleased. Millie has repeatedly told me you are not an idiot, but time and your actions will tell, Major General Drake.’ Her head swivelled to Killian. ‘The same is true for you, Lieutenant General Killian. Please don’t make me regret letting Hannah marry you.’
‘You realise what kind of position this puts us in.’ Killian’s green eyes flashed with controlled fury. ‘Drake and I report to the prime minister. We believe in the sanctity of law. Commissioner Worthington, are we to assume you support the kind of vigilante justice the duchess is determined to enact?’
Ivy’s nervous gaze jumped from Killian to Philippa. She slid closer to Millie. Millie put a reassuring hand on her friend’s arm.
Hannah walked past the ladies and entered the fray. She crossed between Killian and Philippa and notably joined the duchess though her focus stayed sharp on her husband. ‘You’d better include me in your accusations, darling.’ She slipped her hand into her pocket and pulled out a pistol. ‘Or have you forgotten I work for the Queen?’
Ivy’s face grew noticeably paler.
Killian leaned toward his fierce companion, nearly breaking his line. His eyes strayed to Hannah’s mouth before he growled, ‘I don’t forget anything, sweetheart. As you are well aware.’
‘Please. I don’t have time to watch the two of you drool over each other.’ Philippa rolled her eyes.
‘Perhaps you have time to explain exactly how your version of justice is any better than an emperor ruling with no checks or balance on his power?’ Drake widened his stance, nearly brushing shoulders with Killian. They were a battalion of two creating clear battle lines against enemy forces.
Millicent patted Ivy’s hand, then gently removed the woman’s grip, whispering something in her friend’s ear.
The commissioner’s gaze flicked to them, catching on Ivy for a moment before he tracked Millie as she traversed the library to the centre, joining the skirmish. Drake watched her too, like a dragon mesmerised by a bright, flashing jewel. Millie took her place next to Hannah with Philippa and the commissioner on her left. She put a hand on her hip. ‘I think we can all agree a corrupt system of law is not capable of delivering justice at all, Beau. Who was the last lord convicted of a crime? I can’t recall.’ Her brows pulled down, and she tapped a finger against her temple.
Drake smouldered at his wife, shaking his head, and licking his bottom lip like a man desperate for something sweet. ‘Minx.’
She winked at him.
Philippa clicked her tongue and shook her head. ‘I might be ill on the carpet. Millie, Hannah, please, control yourselves.’ She glanced at both women, then Commissioner Worthington, silently emphasising a clear fact: Drake and Killian were outnumbered.
Ivy stepped further away from the brewing battle, putting the settee between herself and the fierce warriors staring each other down. The commissioner’s gaze strayed beyond Penny to where Ivy must be hiding in the shadows before he pulled his focus back to the men across from him.
‘We are wasting time,’ Philippa said. ‘Penny, you have information to share. Please. Do so now.’
Penny wanted to join Ivy in the darkness. But she never backed away from frightening fights despite the seven pairs of eyes all turning their gazes on her. Needing something to do with her hands, she fiddled with the lace on her dress, focusing on the rough surface. Tension pulled tight in the room, and she feared one wrong word might snap the string holding each person in a state of carefully controlled stasis. Taking a deep breath and keeping her eyes on the commissioner, she told him everything in a rush. The letters she found. The missing servant girl who Liam claimed was living happily in Holly House. And most damningly, the conversation she’d overheard just moments ago. The commissioner listened to every word in absolute silence. When she stopped, he exhaled a long breath.
‘So, he made a deal with the Devil’s Sons?’
She bit her lip, willing herself not to burst into tears. ‘Yes,’ she whispered.
‘Thank God for that.’ Commissioner Worthington’s lips turned up in a small smile, making him look younger.
Penny must have misheard him. She glanced around the room and saw similar expressions of shock on everyone’s faces.
Except Philippa. Her secret smile matched that of the commissioner’s.
The room exploded in a cacophony of outrage, but before Penny could determine what in the blazes was going on, the door swung open, and Liam stepped inside the library.