Chapter 12
Nausea rolled in Cynthia’s belly, followed quickly by indignant rage.
‘I will not take nude photographs for you, nor will I allow my friend to debase herself for your perverse pleasure.’ She grabbed Helena’s hand, deciding to test her theory.
Maybe they could run fast enough to escape Sinclair’s men.
If not, she would go to a debtor’s prison before she allowed herself or Helena to be used in such a deplorable manner.
Sinclair was swift and silent on his feet.
One minute, he was leaning on his desk; the next, he was blocking her path to the door.
‘Calm yourself, Lady Burrows. My suggestions is ’ardly as depraved as all that.
I wouldn’t require you to be in any state of undress.
You may stay exactly as you are… with a few minor changes. ’
Cynthia stepped back, inadvertently bumping into Helena, who gripped Cynthia’s hip to steady her. She could feel the cool pressure of Helena’s fingers against her corseted waist, both comforting and disconcerting.
‘I don’t understand. Why would you want to photograph us fully clothed? You can’t use such images for blackmail. How does that benefit you?’
‘He can use them as blackmail.’ Helena’s voice quavered, though Cynthia couldn’t be certain if it was fear or rage. She guessed the latter.
‘How?’
‘Because he wants images of us together.’ Helena’s fingers tightened around Cynthia’s waist before she dropped her hand. ‘Intimate photos. Isn’t that right, Sinclair?’
Cynthia’s face heated as Helena’s gaze turned icy enough to freeze most men’s bollocks.
Damien Sinclair merely nodded. ‘Kills two birds with one stone, dunnit? I ’ave bargaining power over both of you.’
A completely inappropriate thrill coursed through Cynthia at the very thought of taking intimate pictures with Helena. But the pulse of excitement immediately died when she realised who would be standing behind the camera. He truly was the Devil.
‘You want to ruin both of us?’
He shrugged, his impeccably tailored suit barely wrinkling.
‘That’s up to you. I can ensure these pictures never see the light of day.
As long as you grant me a few favours from time to time.
Like putting a leash on that dog you call an uncle, Miss Blair.
I grow weary of ’im sniffing around my territory.
’ Damien Sinclair was a devious, dangerous bastard.
He could blackmail them forever. And Cynthia had played right into his hands.
In the process, she’d delivered Helena up like some sugary treat.
She cursed herself for being three times a fool. No matter what the alternative, she couldn’t possibly agree to his deal. She might be willing to risk her own reputation to clear her debts with Sinclair, but she would never put Helena in such an unconscionable position.
If their photos were made public, it would destroy more than just Helena’s reputation.
It would decimate her family and her livelihood.
The apothecary shop was patronised by the beau monde’s most elite ladies.
Women who would cut off any business with Helena and her family if evidence of sexual depravity were discovered.
But neither would Helena allow herself to be at Sinclair’s mercy.
While Cynthia had been controlled by others her whole life, Helena was a wild creature who would wither under such constraints.
Cynthia would face any manner of hell to avoid such a fate for Helena.
‘You wretched, horrible bastard,’ she hissed. She couldn’t kill Hubert, as he was already dead, but she could certainly murder Sinclair.
‘Such coarse language from a refined lady. I’m shocked.’
Cynthia lurched forward and would have slapped him had Helena not grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
‘We’ll do it.’
She must have imagined Helena’s cool voice speaking such impossible words. It was the only explanation that made sense. But Damien Sinclair’s smug smile wasn’t her imagination. Turning to stare at Helena, she opened her mouth to protest. Helena squeezed her arm gently.
‘We’ll do it,’ she repeated, her grey gaze burning into Cynthia. There was a glint of silver in her eyes and an unspoken promise. Cynthia didn’t need magic to hear Helena’s message.
Trust me.
Cynthia swallowed. This was madness. They couldn’t fall so easily into the monster’s hand.
But a strange calm broke over her. Over the course of the last hour, something had shifted between Cynthia and Helena.
They had a common – and evil – enemy. Which made them allies instead of adversaries.
Sinclair had inadvertently forced them to join forces against him.
A mistake he will soon regret.
Because he had no idea how deadly a waterwitch and an angry widow could be.
Turning to face Sinclair, Cynthia tipped up her chin and straightened her shoulders. ‘I want Hubert’s letters of debt before I agree. All of them.’
Sinclair raised a black brow. ‘I s’pose I’m not the only cunning person in this room.’
‘Not by half.’ Helena’s whisper only reached Cynthia’s ear.
Helena was unaccountably nervous as Sinclair led them further down the corridor and into another room.
When he opened the door to the studio, she tasted the metallic tang of fear on her tongue.
The room was bare except for a staged area directly in front of the camera stand that was swathed in crimson and black lace.
A chaise longue sat in the centre with cushions strewn about the floor.
Dear God. This is what Ellie saw in her vision.
Helena turned to Cynthia and cursed whatever hex stopped her from reading the other woman’s mind.
If she knew what Cynthia was thinking, what she was feeling, this would all be so much easier.
Was she frightened? Repulsed? Horrified by what they were about to do?
Ellie said Cynthia was desperate to leave the room but couldn’t.
Was that because of the deal they made with Sinclair, or because she would have to be intimate with Helena?
Or perhaps both were equally disgusting to her.
Not being able to discern Cynthia’s thoughts put Helena at a distinct disadvantage. A disadvantage others dealt with all the time, but she had never had to experience. Until now. It was completely unacceptable.
While she shared Cynthia’s feelings of hatred towards Sinclair for forcing them into this situation, she was not repulsed by the idea of intimacy with Cynthia, just the circumstances of the intimacy.
She had tried to deny her attraction, but it was time for honesty. Lying to oneself, or to one’s partner in a venture, never boded well. And somewhere along the way, they had become partners. At least in this investigation.
Being forced into intimate poses with Cynthia would make it nearly impossible to hide how tempting she found the woman. Which was incredibly unfair to Cynthia. She had not asked for Helena’s attention, nor was there any reason to believe she would welcome her advances.
There was that moment outside of Sinclair’s club.
Helena knew what desire looked like in the eyes of another.
And she’d seen that hunger in Cynthia’s hazel gaze.
But that didn’t mean she wanted this. A mad moment caught in the heat of danger did not mean Cynthia preferred the company of women.
The very last thing Helena wished to do was force any desire she had onto a woman whose autonomy was already compromised.
‘I need to speak with Lady Burrows before we begin. Privately.’ Helena’s voice was loud in the quiet room.
Sinclair paused behind the camera. ‘’aving second thoughts? Because you don’t ’ave a lot of options, Miss Blair.’
You ’ave no options. And neither will your uncle. Soon.
His thoughts were as forceful as everything else about him.
‘You’ll get your bloody pictures. But I need a moment alone with my… friend.’
Sinclair frowned. He wasn’t going to agree to her request.
Helena provoked him. ‘What’s the matter, Sinclair? Are you worried we’ll find some kind of hidden escape in a room with no windows and only one door?’
There’s no escape. Not for any of us.
Dire thoughts from a dangerous man. He exhaled through his nose, pulled a gold watch from his pocket and looked pointedly at its face.
‘Five minutes. No more. And when I return, I want ’er hair unbound.
’ He nodded at Cynthia, who stiffened. Without another word, he swiftly exited, shutting the door behind him with a loud click.
‘This is a terrible mistake.’ Cynthia’s bottom lip quivered and she bit it hard, drawing Helena’s eyes to the plump flesh.
A swirl of need unfurled low in her belly.
‘Just look at my dress. I couldn’t have chosen a better outfit to play into his sick game.
It’s as you said. I look like a trollop.
’ Tears filled her eyes, and Helena cursed herself for her brash words earlier.
In truth, Cynthia looked like a fantasy.
Innocence dressed in sin. Sinclair could sell her picture for twice what Hubert owed him.
‘And you!’ She shook her head. ‘You’ll be ruined because of me. I can’t allow this. I won’t.’
Something sharp and bright pierced the shield around Helena’s heart. She pulled Cynthia close, dropping her voice to a whisper. Sinclair was listening at the door, and she had no wish for him to hear their conversation. ‘I can ruin the film.’
Cynthia pressed a hand to her mouth, muffling her gasp. ‘You can?’
‘Yes. You needn’t fret about anyone discovering these images.’
‘So, you’ll be safe?’
Her shield cracked down the centre, but she refused to let it break. ‘I would drink the Thames dry before I let that man have any power over me. Or you.’
The relief on Cynthia’s face was fleeting. As she looked beyond the camera at a stage set for seduction, her brow drew down, and she exhaled a shaky breath. Apprehension rolled off the poor woman in waves.
Blast and bother.