Chapter 7 #2
Helena shook her head. ‘Uncle Lachlan can handle himself. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s fought an armed man.
I don’t know if he’ll catch him, at any rate.
The blackguard was faster than a steam train.
’ And terrified for failing in his mission.
But what had he been looking for in Lord Burrows’ safe?
‘Did he take the key with him?’
Cynthia, the valet, and Helena searched the floor. Cynthia pulled up a ruffle and cried out in triumph, holding the key.
‘Huzzah! He must have dropped it when he fled.’
Her joy was infectious, but Helena refused to be swayed. Cynthia was still the lead suspect in her husband’s murder. A fact Helena best not forget, no matter how fetching she looked as her cheeks flushed with pleasure.
Cynthia stood and walked to the safe, carefully inserting the Chubb key designed to work the lever lock. With a clank and screech of metal hinges, she pulled open the heavy door.
‘Oh dear. This might take some time.’
Helena joined her and peered into the small enclosure stuffed tight with ledgers, loose papers, several jewellery boxes, and a painted enamel case. Valiantly, she tried to ignore the warmth emanating from Cynthia.
‘We should wait until Uncle Lachlan returns.’
Cynthia reached into the safe and pulled a ledger free. Several papers fluttered to the floor in its wake. ‘Are you worried I might tamper with the evidence?’
Helena raised her brow in an expression that had sent many a man running in fear. ‘A guilty person is capable of endless treachery.’
Cynthia’s humour died. ‘Then it’s a good thing I’m not guilty.
’ She turned to face Helena. They were so close, Helena could count the cinnamon freckles on the bridge of Cynthia’s nose.
‘Look with me, then. How could I possibly embark on treachery if you are watching my every move?’ The sparkle was back.
How she maintained such a positive attitude when her world was in tatters mystified Helena.
‘Besides, you said I couldn’t lie to you.
You would read my thoughts and know, so what has you spooked? ’
You. You have me spooked.
Helena pressed her lips tight to keep the words from spilling forth.
‘Err, should I just head downstairs then if you don’t need anything?’
Both women turned in tandem to the valet. Who they had forgotten entirely.
Cynthia’s cheeks turned a delicate shade of pink.
‘Lawrence! Yes, of course. Why don’t you tell Mrs Higgins what has happened, and she’ll get you a cup of tea.
When Superintendent MacDougal returns, I’m sure he’ll want to speak with you.
But you’ve had a real shock, and tea does wonders for the constitution.
’ She turned sharply to look at Hamlet, who flicked his fluffy tail.
What the devil is going on with my familiar and Cynthia?
Cynthia shook her head before looking back to the valet. ‘Brandy can also be quite restorative, I’ve heard.’
Cynthia flipped another page in a ledger full of entries written in her husband’s distinctive script.
They were all staggering sums of money. While some were instalments, most were withdrawals.
A curious combination of letters was repeated often.
DOSD. Hubert owed the mysterious DOSD a very large amount indeed.
‘Bloody fucking hell,’ she muttered. Hardly the words of a lady.
But she didn’t feel like a lady at this moment.
She felt like a complete dunderhead. Her husband had been bleeding money faster than a sieve.
She wasn’t sure what any of it meant, but she feared whatever comfortable living she imagined for her widowhood had gone to hell with Hubert.
Helena looked up from a letter she was reading. ‘What?’
They were both sitting on the floor, with papers scattered around them. Cynthia’s poorly dyed skirts brushed against Helena’s blue ones.
Cynthia shook her head. ‘Even if I can prove my innocence, I believe I’m quite ruined.’
A knock sounded on the door, and her butler ducked his head inside.
‘Superintendent MacDougal has returned. He desires to speak with both of you.’
‘Send him up. He’ll want to see all of this.’
The butler nodded and quietly shut the door.
‘Perhaps these are not current ledgers. They could be old records, and he paid the debts before you were even married.’ Helena shifted so her shoulder bumped against Cynthia’s as she peered at the ledger.
Cynthia tapped her finger on the date of the last entry.
The clear script indicated it was penned three days prior.
‘I don’t think so. Well, I suppose if I can’t convince you of my innocence, I won’t have to worry about where to live or what to eat.
Newgate will be in charge of my room and board until I hang for murder.
’ She laughed, a high and shrill sound. Cynthia was living in a nightmare.
She wanted to wake up and return to normalcy.
A life where her husband was not murdered.
Where she was not facing a prison sentence ending in her death.
Where she didn’t risk losing everything if she did survive.
Thunder rumbled outside the window as the afternoon sun hid behind a cloud.
If Hubert was alive, nothing would be different. I would still be in debt. I would still be imprisoned. I would still be facing death, just in slow degrees instead of all at once.
‘I don’t want you to be guilty, no matter what you think. I might not like you, but neither do I want you to hang. I just can’t assume you are innocent either.’ Helena leaned closer and for a reckless moment, Cynthia wondered if a woman’s lips were softer than a man’s.
If she was destined to lose everything, what harm might come from grabbing a live wire and letting the electricity run through her until she was nothing but light?
Because whenever she touched Helena, that is how it felt.
Like currents of power rushing through her, making her feel things she only ever imagined.
I bet she tastes of caramel and salt.
She certainly wouldn’t reek of cigars and gin as Hubert always had.
Cynthia remembered in a horrible rush that Helena could read thoughts. Which meant she knew everything Cynthia had just been thinking. Things she most certainly didn’t want to admit.
‘Damnation. Did you hear… That is, I wasn’t really thinking about…’ She huffed out a breath. ‘It’s quite cheeky to slip into people’s minds and steal their thoughts, you know.’
Helena quirked her brows, her lips pursing.
‘I don’t really think you taste of caramel and salt.
I don’t want to taste you at any rate.’ Heat washed Cynthia’s cheeks, and she wondered if it was possible to die from embarrassment.
It would save the House of Lords a lot of trouble.
‘It was just one of those errant thoughts. Like whether bees have friends in their hive.’
Helena’s copper brows rose as her grey eyes shifted to silver. It must be a trick of sunlight. ‘You wonder if bees have friends?’
The door opened. They both jerked apart. Helena grabbed for another letter as Cynthia buried her nose back in the ledger.
‘I chased the bastard for twenty blocks. He lost me in the Seven Dials. The streets there are like a bloody maze. The sneaky little shite!’ Superintendent MacDougal always looked slightly dishevelled, but this was an entirely new level of chaos.
Dark-brown curls stuck out in every direction.
His cheeks were a hectic crimson, and the bottom of his trousers dripped with mud.
‘You opened the safe?’ His sharp gaze flicked from Cynthia to Helena, then to the contents spilling from the safe.
‘It was my idea.’ Cynthia didn’t need to give Helena another reason to mistrust her. ‘Miss Blair wanted to wait until your return, but I thought there might be something in Hubert’s safe to absolve me, so I insisted.’ Cynthia stood awkwardly. Her left foot had fallen asleep.
Helena looked up from the paper in her hands then back again at the parchment. Her mouth opened in a silent inhalation.
‘Are ye well, lass?’
‘I think I found it.’
‘What?’ Cynthia and Superintendent MacDougal spoke together.
‘The evidence to exonerate Cynthia.’
It was the first time Helena used Cynthia’s name. Tingles washed over her skin before she processed the words that came before her name.
‘Evidence?’ She reached for the paper and snatched it out of Helena’s hands.
‘Hey!’ Helena sputtered as she regained her feet. Hamlet wound between the two of them, his tail trailing over Cynthia’s skirt in a whisper as his head bumped into Helena’s thigh. But she barely noticed.
The script written on thick parchment was as bold and stark as the words.
The deadline has passed. Fulfil your bargain or pay your debt in full. Breaking a deal with the Devil carries profound consequences.