Chapter 20
20
Liam’s fingers tapped an uneven rhythm against his thigh. He wanted to see Penny. He expected her to come to his room the night before. When she didn’t arrive, he almost snuck into the servants’ quarters, but she shared a room with young Molly, and the last thing Liam wanted was to send the young girl into shrieks of frightened outrage at the master breaching their private sleeping quarters.
That morning, he rang for a tray to be brought up for his breakfast, expecting Penny to arrive, but it was a new maid. A girl whose name he hadn’t yet learned. Sally? Sarah? It didn’t matter. She wasn’t Penny.
Before he could call for Mrs Harding and find out where the devil Penny was, Philippa and Commissioner Worthington were announced by one of his footmen. So, he was sitting in his study, sipping coffee brought to him by the same girl from breakfast and still at a loss as to where Penny was and why she wasn’t sitting next to him. Her warm thigh pressing against his. Her quick mind adding immeasurable value to the conversation. Her clever fingers fiddling with the button on her dress or the edge of her pocket.
God, I love her.
The moment she arrived, he would demand they set a date for their wedding. They had to wait until after their meeting with the Snake, and a note indicating a time and place had yet to arrive. But it didn’t matter. They could still set a date for a week away, or two. Surely this mess with the Devil’s Sons would be settled by then.
Liam had spent every moment since his conversation with Penny carefully not thinking about his promise. For her to have a balanced partnership in their investigation. He had spoken with Killian and Drake about their marriages. They both agreed an equal marriage with women as strong and powerful as Hannah and Millie had myriad benefits. But the fear of losing their soul’s companion never left. It was a burden they both agreed to bear. And one Liam was learning to carry himself. Because embracing all of Penny was worth the fear of losing her. And if he did not grant her equal measure in their union, she wouldn’t stay. Nor should she. Still, thinking about taking her to the Snake, vulnerable and exposed, made his skin crawl.
She won’t be vulnerable. If I can’t make her stay away, I can at least ensure she is well armed. When we finally receive the Snake’s invitation, we’ll be ready.
‘Liam, are you even paying attention? I don’t usually encourage people to listen to Worthington, but this time, he is trying to make a valid point.’
Liam brought his focus back to Philippa and the commissioner. She was wearing a stunning dress of peacock blue, overlaid with gossamer black fabric so fine, it was translucent. Folds of her skirt revealed the peacock fabric in shimmering waves that blended with black silk. Her raven hair was swept into some complicated maze of curls, braids, and twists with sapphires sparkling throughout. In contrast, Commissioner Worthington’s dull black suit was perfectly pressed and completely unremarkable. His black hair was meticulously combed, the silver at his temples lending him an air of staid respectability. He was as conventional as she was magnificent.
‘I’m sorry. What were you saying, commissioner?’ Liam willed his thoughts away from Penny.
‘I wasn’t able to mention this the other night, but Miss Smith spoke of reward money in exchange for evidence against you. I wanted to ask her where she got that information, and I was hoping we could do so now.’
Liam felt a strange flutter in his chest, followed by the tang of metal on the back of his tongue. ‘Why do you ask?’
The commissioner glanced at Philippa and shifted in his seat, straightening his already flawless jacket. ‘Because there is no reward money. There never was. Whoever told her that was lying to her for reasons we can only assume are nefarious.’
The flutter in his chest became a pounding. He jolted from his seat, striding to the bell pull. Before he could tug on the rope, Mrs Harding burst through the door.
Never in his life had he seen the dour woman look the least flummoxed. But she was frantic now as she lurched toward him, a note in hand. He didn’t need to hear her say the name to know. ‘It’s Penny, my lord. She’s missing. We’ve looked everywhere for her. Molly told us she never came to bed last night. It’s not like Penny. She’s my most reliable maid. And then this note arrived for you.’ Mrs Harding’s hand shook as she passed him the sealed letter. A single lock of hair was tied in a ribbon pinned to the parchment.
Penny’s hair.
Mrs Harding’s pale face grew whiter as Liam broke the seal. Head of a crow. Body of a wolf. Tail of a snake. ‘It’s Penny, isn’t it? That’s her hair.’ The woman pressed a bony hand against her mouth and blinked furiously. ‘Should we call for Scotland Yard? I should have known. She received messages periodically. I never inquired. It was none of my business. But Mrs O’Brian told me Penny met with someone. A man. He came last night. Oh, God. If only I’d known. She was under my protection. I should have known.’ The overwrought housekeeper looked around and stumbled to the nearest chair, sitting in a heap.
Commissioner Worthington stood from his chair. ‘I am Commissioner Worthington of the Metropolitan Police. Do not fear, madame. We will find Miss Smith. But it’s important you tell me exactly what you know.’
Liam ignored Worthington as he questioned the housekeeper. He scanned the few lines of script on the note as Philippa came to his side and read over his shoulder.
The Devil’s Sons were sending him an invitation.
Meet tonight, 9 o’clock sharp at the address below. We already have the product. Come unarmed and alone.
The Snake
The address listed was an abandoned warehouse on the docks. The perfect place to hold an innocent woman before nailing her in a coffin and shipping her across the channel to France.
‘Fucking hell. They have Penny.’ Liam’s world went black, and the beast took control. He knew not what he did, but when he came back to his senses, a side table lay in splinters, the wingback chair his father favoured was tipped over, one arm dangling like an injured soldier, and the contents of the tea tray lay scattered over the rug in a million broken pieces. His hands were bleeding, his left foot ached, and air rushed in and out of his lungs in harsh gasps.
Mrs Harding’s eyes were wide, her mouth hanging open. Worthington stood in front of the housekeeper like a human shield, his lips forming a stern line. Philippa raised an eyebrow and wiped tea from the corner of her cheek. Her beautiful dress was stained, and a splinter was caught in her hair next to one of the sapphires.
‘If you are quite finished with your tantrum, there is much we must do and precious little time to get it done.’ She thwacked her fan against her leg like an angry cat flicking its tail.
‘They have Penny,’ he roared, more animal than human in his fear. Liam couldn’t think. He couldn’t focus. Penny’s face hovered before him like a ghost. Her name pounded in his head along with his heartbeat. Rage seethed within him, feeding the wild beast that was hungry for blood.
Philippa strode up to him, raised her arm, and slapped him hard with her fan. The decorative thing must be made of metal because it cracked against his cheekbone with the force of a hammer. Stars flashed in his eyes, but the pain of her blow sharpened his thoughts and brought him back to the moment. ‘Control yourself, Liam. You are no good to her like this. No good to any of us. And if we want to save Penny, we need you to keep your head.’
He glared at Philippa, focusing on the dark blue of her eyes, like the endless depths of the sky before a wild storm. Forcing his breathing to calm, he gripped the chains holding his beast and willed the animal back into submission. For now. ‘You’re right,’ he spoke through clenched teeth. Her calm infused him. She was angry too, but her rage was the focused power of sunlight harnessed through a magnifying glass. Far more effective than his feral fury. ‘Tell me what to do. I have to save her, Philippa.’
‘You will.’ The duchess spoke without hesitation. ‘Mrs Harding, more tea please. We have work to do.’