Presage and Piracy (Bow Street Wallflowers #3)

Prologue

Miss Heather Morgan had timed it perfectly. She’d taken up a spot in a hidden servant’s corridor with her squirming sack, waiting for the ideal moment. Her task was to orchestrate a distraction, and that was precisely what she would do.

Once the quadrille was underway, she opened the door leading into the ballroom and emptied the sack.

“Rats!” A shrill scream rent the air, followed closely by others.

People moved like a wave along the ballroom floor, everyone shouting or screeching in horror as a plethora of rats bounded heedlessly through the space.

While everyone fled in one direction, Heather went the other, slipping through an opened doorway and into a rear corridor. Maria appeared at the end of the hall, a devilish smirk on her lips.

“Do you think they’re sufficiently distracted?” Heather asked breathlessly.

Maria rolled her eyes heavenward as they drew nearer to each other. “We merely required a few minutes’ time in order to search the earl’s study for the letters.”

“We shall have plenty of time, then.”

Following the direction the client had given them, they made their way to the study and began to search.

They each took one side of the room, testing each drawer and shelf for any hidden compartments.

Cordelia would, even now, be searching the earl’s bedchamber for the same letters.

Lord knew if they would get another chance.

Parchment rustled behind her, and Maria exclaimed, “Here. I have them. Do you think that this is all of them?”

“I’ll make certain,” Heather said, taking the letters and waving a hand at her. “Go on, now! Return to the ballroom and keep everyone busy. I will count the letters and destroy them.”

With a nod, Maria swept from the room and returned to the chaos in the ballroom.

“Six, seven…eight,” Heather whispered as she counted. The abhorrent letters were all there.

She turned toward the hearth and, for a moment, her heart all but stopped. Fire. The orange flames rippled and lapped at the coals, and her heart thudded in her ears. It was so close, the heat from it surrounded her, and the faint screams—

The study door slammed open with a bang that reverberated through her chest. Pulse jumping, Heather stared wide-eyed into the furious dark gaze of the Earl of Hanley.

“You bitch,” he snarled, his lips curling back over yellowing, aged teeth. “I’ll tell your aunt about this, Miss Morgan.”

This was it, then. The bastard had caught her, knew her family, and had the ability to ruin her life, just as he’d threatened to do to their client. Well, she mused, he’ll only ruin life for one of us.

In one swift movement, she tossed the letters into the fire, the parchment instantly catching ablaze and curling at the ends until it was shrivelled, blackened ash.

The tightness in her chest eased a fraction.

At least one woman was saved from the man.

Now, she merely needed to sort out how to save herself.

The earl’s gaze narrowed on her. “I’ll see to it that you regret that.”