Chapter Fourteen
“D amn the man and his artist’s vanity,” Petra said as she raised the forward end of the tray to display the gun she held underneath. “I told him under no circumstances could he show my image.” She glared at the painting Kara held. “He’ll need punishing.”
“You are not dead after all,” said Kara.
“Congratulations on your stunning grasp of the obvious.”
“Sculley.” The man was trying to slide along the wall of seascapes to escape the corner. When Kara said his name, he whimpered. “You were in his rooms when we came looking for Tom Hawkins.”
“I was posing,” Petra said with a roll of her eyes. “It was the price he demanded for giving me a place to stay. There were too many bailiffs and moneylenders’ thugs banging on the door of Tom’s place. I slipped out of Sculley’s when you lot showed up.”
“But you couldn’t resist staying to watch.”
Petra shrugged. “I do enjoy watching you dance at the end of my string.”
Behind her, Sculley slipped away and into the crowd in the main part of the hall, but a gasp came from one of the few people left in the corner. “That maid has a gun,” a female voice said in a loud whisper.
“Everyone go,” Kara called to the remaining guests in the corner. “Hurry now.”
“No.” Looking over, Petra brandished the gun in their direction. “You will all just stay there for now. Back up along the other wall and pretend like you are admiring the pretty oceans.” She narrowed her eyes at them. “As long as you don’t draw attention, I won’t have to use this.”
There were perhaps eight people left to move and do her bidding. One slid away as soon as Petra turned her attention back to Kara. “I’ll bet Robert convinced you all that I tore apart Tom’s rooms, didn’t he?” she said with a sneer.
“Didn’t you?” asked Kara.
“No! It was the moneylender’s bully boys, looking for anything of value.” Petra rolled her eyes. “Robert always was squeamish about violence.” She set aside the tray, and with a tug, she pulled off her apron and tossed it away. “I did enjoy our games for a while.” She said it like it was an admission of weakness. “I liked the idea of you unbalanced and frightened.”
“As you have felt? Since your League disbanded?” If Kara could keep the woman talking until Niall came… Behind Petra, the party went on. No one seemed to notice the drama playing out in the corner.
“Do not flatter yourself,” the woman snarled. “Since I escaped that government prison cell, I have been nothing but focused, angry, and determined.”
“And turned away by everyone you approached.”
“Not everyone,” Petra corrected her with a smirk.
“Sculley knew you have a sister?” Kara looked down at the painting in her hand. “A twin.”
“ Had a sister.” She gestured at the artwork. “Loose lips are the perils of drink. Let it be a lesson to you. But posing is such boring work. Especially when you are forced to listen to the droning of a fool like Sculley. I drank to make it through. So many damned sketches he had to make—and that was all before he even began to paint.” She glanced at the piece again. “If I had known what he was going to paint, I would have killed him then.”
“You told him about her? Your sister?”
“In a moment of weakness, brought on by too much gin. Vile stuff. I must have said too much. But I had been thinking about her lately, you see.”
Plotting her death , Kara almost said, but Petra continued to speak.
“I didn’t know about her, actually. Not until we broke into the Hanlins’ files that first time. We found out about the money they’d been stealing, and I found out that they had stolen my sister.” She sneered. “Just another part of the great experiment . A comparison. Give her to an ordinary family and see how she fares, measured up next to me with all my opportunities.”
“How did she fare?”
“Surprisingly well. Not that I let her know that. She became a teacher herself, you know. I read some of the reports on her. She was respected. Well liked. At least the children were safe with her, unlike with Hanlin.” Her mouth twisted. “But then, she had advantages, too. She grew up with a family. Parents, siblings, cousins, all of it. A little house on the river with a tiny garden and a cat.” She seemed to be looking inward for a moment, before she shook her head. “But they held her back, in the end. She might have been something, someone of value, had she joined me when I asked her.”
“That’s what happened? She didn’t join you, so you killed her?”
“No. That invitation was extended years ago.” Petra shrugged. “She should have taken it. Perhaps I would not have had to kill her now.”
“Had to? Is that what you tell yourself?” Kara scoffed. “Nonsense! You took her life just to fake your own death!”
“Yes! To convince the Crown, the Yard, and the government that I was dead. To leave me space, give me freedom to make my plans.” Petra snorted. “None of them could find me. They never got close. But you wouldn’t stop, would you?” She tilted her head. “You know, perhaps you need to acknowledge your part in my sister’s death. If you hadn’t been so persistent, she might still be alive.”
Kara snorted. “Congratulations on your ability to continually shift blame for your sins on someone else. I will never hold myself responsible for your evil deeds.”
Petra smirked. “Well, her death did allow me another chance to torment you, didn’t it?” She laughed. “Come now, admit it. You felt your mind was slipping, didn’t you? When you spotted me in the square?”
“Do you want to know what I’ve felt lately, Petra? I’ve felt actual grief. Sadness, when I saw a woman of your intelligence, with all of your potential, lying dead on a slab—and all anyone else felt was relief.”
Darkness flooded the woman’s features. “Oh, no. You do not . You will not feel pity for me. You? You, who have had your own advantages! Intelligence, a pretty face, charm, and money. And you waste them all. You might have had a grand alliance. Married into the royal houses of Europe. Or into one of the great banking families. You might have grown your father’s empire beyond measure. Instead, you settled for a royal bastard’s boy and fiddle around with your clockwork toys.” She raised her arm and pointed the pistol at Kara. “I will wield my gifts, and I will collect my own fortune and power. I will create my own legacy.”
To the side, a couple more of the people trapped along the wall sidled out of range. Kara had to keep Petra’s attention on her. “You had your chance,” she admitted. “But all of that is over now.”
“All due to you and that husband of yours. He’s no better than his randy, rotten grandsire. No vision . Why cannot any of you see ? I gave you the opportunity. You might have taken your part in things, secured your spot in the new order.” Petra waved the hand with the gun. “But it’s your chance that is over now. I have new plans, greater goals. And I’m not alone, whatever you say. There are others who can see the truth, as you refuse to. This country will get what it deserves. I will see to it.”
Kara rolled her eyes. “We’ve heard it before.”
“Bitch,” Petra spat. “You have become too much of a distraction. All you had to do was to cower away until I set things in motion, but you had to interfere.”
Her tone had been growing more strident, and at last someone in the party beyond their corner noticed their tense tableau. A cry went up. In a rush, the people who had been hovering over at the wall ran for the safety of the bigger crowd. As they raced to get away, the people they moved through were picking up on their panic. Someone gave a shout of alarm and the crowd began to surge away from them and toward the doors.
“I tire of this.” Petra waved the gun again. “Give me the painting.”
Behind her, Kara saw Gyda fighting against the current of fleeing guests. No . She stepped backward, away from Petra, and toward the door hidden in the wall.
“I had initially thought to stretch this out a little,” the woman said. “I meant to pick off your little band one by one. But between you and that damned Sculley, you’ve left me no choice.” She raised the gun. “I confess, it is no hardship to kill you first. I will enjoy watching Kier suffer your loss before I kill him, too.”
Rage surged in Kara’s chest, but she was in heavy skirts while Petra wore a maid’s uniform, lighter and easier to move in. All she could think to do was to lure the woman away from the crowd, away from Gyda. She moved backward again. She was close, so close to the concealed door. “This is too public, isn’t it? Think about it. At this point, no one has seen anything save for a rogue maid who might have objected to Sculley’s mockery of Society. You can take the painting and go out the back.”
Petra considered it for the briefest of moments. “So I thought, when I ordered Sculley to remove the painting. No one who understood what it revealed had seen it. But now it is too late. He exposed me and then scurried off like a rat. Who knows who he’s talking to? You have seen the painting, as has the Winther woman. There will be gossip. He will be questioned about why he removed it. It cannot be stopped now.” Her lips pressed thin. “The pair of you have destroyed my ruse. I have lost valuable time because you once again have lobbed a boulder into the smooth flow of my plans.” She grinned evilly. “You speak of relief? It will be a relief to kill you.”
“No.” Gyda stepped in behind the woman, her voice ringing out. “You’ve had your fun, but there are constables coming in the front. It’s over.”
Petra threw her head back and sighed. “Once again. No vision . Are you people incapable of looking beyond the present moment? Can you not see the steps unfolding out ahead of you? Do you think I came here unprepared?” Abruptly, she shifted her stance and turned to point the gun at Gyda. “I am glad you returned. At least you have afforded me the opportunity to make Levett suffer at the last.” She tossed a glance over her shoulder at Kara. “In your last moments, you can watch your friend die before you.”
Kara didn’t wait. She leapt toward the woman, but beside her, the concealed door flew open. A blur of motion swept past her and Lord Charles collided with Petra, reaching for her gun.
They grappled. Petra’s back slammed into the wall, knocking Sculley’s art askew. She growled like a dog and cursed Charles as she fought to keep the pistol. They were so close and moving so fast, Kara could not find a way to intervene.
A shot rang out.
“Charles!” Gyda shouted.
Her beau flung out a hand toward her and slumped to the floor.
Still regaining her balance, Petra threw a triumphant glare at Kara—who dived for her feet.
They both went down. Kara heard the gun skitter across the floor. She held on to one of Petra’s legs to keep her from going after it.
“Let go of me, damn you!” With her other leg, Petra aimed a vicious kick at Kara’s head.
The blow slammed into her. And then another.
Dazed, blinking hard, she felt the woman’s leg slide out of her grasp. Petra climbed to her feet.
Through a fog, Kara saw her glance toward the gun.
Gyda was kneeling over Charles, pleading frantically with him and shouting for help.
“Kara!” It was Niall’s voice now, his shout loud in the emptying space.
Cursing, Petra turned to flee, but she paused long enough to kick Kara hard in the stomach.
Oof! Pain exploded.
Another kick. Kara curled up, retching, but through watery eyes she saw Petra disappear through the hidden door.
“Kara! Was that—Oh, hell. Kara?”
She tried to blink the fog away, but it was closing in on her. Niall was trying to help her to sit up. Nausea swamped her. She broke out in a sweat, then bent over again and vomited all over her husband’s boots.
She looked up, trying to apologize, but the fog rolled over her and all the shrieking and sobbing retreated, sounding so very far away. The light tunneled around her until she abruptly tumbled into the dark.