Chapter 6 #2
“It’s not funny.”
“No, definitely not.” The rippling bubbled up and I laughed out loud.
She stopped, hands on her hips, and stared at me—her expression shifting from horrified to reluctantly amused.
Her eyes swung to my left and her glare intensified again.
I turned to see a young woman staring up at me, mouth parted.
My laughter dried up as quickly as it had come.
I tipped my head and started walking again, leaving Marietta to catch up.
It was a minute before I noticed her huffing. I slowed my pace. Determination, pride, stubbornness—she wanted to prove she wouldn’t ask. At this point, I would have been disappointed by anything less.
“So what did you do for Edgar?”
Did I want to answer? I could simply ignore the question, but found needling her the more appealing option. “A favor.”
Another puzzle—why I wanted to spar with her at all. I usually wasn’t so abrasive, unless the situation demanded it. But then I rarely took cases from gilded women. I hated them so fiercely that it wasn’t worth the fortune they could pay, or the contacts I could make.
She continued, taking six steps to my five, even with her long legs. “Did he recently get into a scrape with the watch?”
“What makes you think Edgar needs to avoid law enforcement? He works in a prison.” I needed either a change of topic or a way to get under her skin. “Besides, what makes you think I helped Edgar recently?”
“Well, he still owes you tasks, he still has a star,” she said as if it were the most apparent thing.
I withheld a smile. Perfect. “Do you think I need to go into Montranc every day? Having a large array of options is what makes connections worthwhile. I keep some favors open for years.”
She was suddenly no longer at my side. I kept the satisfaction from my face with effort, and turned to see her stopped dead on the walk, clutching her marked wrist.
“Years?” Her voice sounded as though someone had a grip around her throat. “Are you saying that I might be beholden to you for years?”
“Of course. Did you think it would only be a few weeks to be rid of me?”
Unintelligible sounds gurgled from her throat.
I closed the distance between us, pleased to see the glaze in her eyes as I came close enough to increase the movement of her chest, to make the pulse at her neck throb.
“No, Marietta,” I whispered as I stepped forward another inch, close enough to brush.
“You will be serving me for a long time to come. But don’t worry.
” I touched her wrist, concentrating on the throb, watching it jump.
“I’ll save you a prime spot in my harem.
Because those three vows to sin might take a very long time to complete. ”
Her breath caught, her throat trembled, and her lips parted. Those reactions in her drew me closer. I wanted to see what it would take for her to relinquish all control to me. Not that I would allow anything else. A woman ceding control was an absolute, and had been since I was sixteen.
I let the dark cloud envelop me at the unwanted thoughts of the past and twisted them to seduction.
I lowered my head, my lips a scant breath away from hers, making her pulse race by mere proximity and the thoughts of what could happen.
How I could kiss her. How I could stroke her.
How I could do things with my fingers that would make her forget her own name.
Her head tipped back, just an inch.
I could play women like a violinist drawing out a languid lullaby or plucking a furious scherzo. It was my most honed and most hated talent. Most women were easy, needing nothing more than my face to lure them in. Others required compliments or flattery. Simple as well.
The real challenge lay with the ones who required a specific tuning. The turn of a knob, the pluck of the right string, the correct rhythm of the bow.
What would it take for Marietta? A simple kiss? A caress? No. I had a feeling that while she could be lured with the simple things, getting her—really getting her—under my control would be a challenge.
I stepped away, allowing the street and homes to surge back into view. The bustle of the traffic—carriage wheels, horse hooves, shouts and curses—mingling with the clatter of pedestrians as they walked past.
I saw the knowledge seep into her eyes, the rose creep up her long white throat and bloom through her cheeks. We were in the middle of a crowded neighborhood during one of the high times of the day, and she had completely forgotten where she was.
At sixteen I had vowed to always be in control. It had taken two years, but I hadn’t failed since.
Challenge or not, she too would fall.
~*~
MARIETTA
Hackenstay’s office was located in a ramshackle neighborhood bordering the textile docks.
I trailed behind Noble as we entered the building, still completely enraged at what had happened on the sidewalk. He had been smiling at my ire for the past fifteen minutes, further stoking the flames.
I gripped his tailored sleeve when he turned down the wrong hall. “His office is that way.” I pointed in the opposite direction.
“No. It’s this way.”
He pushed open the door on his right without knocking and walked inside.
This hadn’t been where I’d met the negotiant previously, but there he was.
Hackenstay, with his scrawny frame and heavy mustache, lurched to his feet from behind a misshapen desk.
A tin box clattered and spilled across the desk, and he hastily pushed a thick stack of fallen notes and loose coins back inside, closing the tin firmly and putting a trembling hand on top.
“You must be Master Hackenstay,” Noble said. “I’m here on behalf of Lord First Winters and Lady Second.”
Wariness passed through the negotiant’s eyes, replaced by obsequiousness as he caught sight of me. I hadn’t liked him before—the gin-soaked little toad—and I didn’t like him now.
Noble continued, not allowing Hackenstay to respond. “I understand that instead of going through a solicitor, they hired you directly. Is it true that you took the sum of two hundred gold from Lord First Winters and Lady Second Winters?”
Money that we didn’t really have. We had leveraged everything. Used everything. And for once Ferris had been lucky at the tables. He’d won a hundred gold. He would have lost it the next night if we hadn’t put it in the negotiant’s hand. Money never stayed long in the household.
Hackenstay bobbed his head. “Payment for services rendered and to be rendered.”
I opened my mouth, but Noble beat me to it. “What services?”
“Consultation fees and showing up in court with Lord Third Winters. I will help him until the very end.” He puffed out his chest and rattled off a litany of empty jargon about pleading Kennen’s case.
“How much are your usual consultation fees?” Noble pointedly glanced at the dingy drapes, the faded rug, the ill-placed pictures on the office’s walls. He raised a brow my way as if to ask what I’d been thinking to choose this man.
I shook my head and gestured back, trying to convey that I’d never been in this room. I’d had second thoughts after meeting Hackenstay the first time, but being in this office would have given me thirds.
Hackenstay wet his mustached lips nervously. “Do you need another job done?”
“No. I need you to tell me your fee,” Noble said, his voice silky and smooth.
“It depends on the job. I rolled the Winters fees all into one price on goodwill. They still owe me another hundred, which I will need to see soon.” He sent a softly chiding look my way. The obnoxious lump.
“No.”
Hackenstay switched his gaze back to Noble, shock edging his features. “No? What do you mean?”
“I’d like to see the work you’ve done on the case.”
He swallowed. “I-I don’t have that information at hand.”
“Then tell me how you expect to help Lord Kennen Winters.” Noble idly lifted a folded paper from Hackenstay’s desk. The negotiant reached out to reclaim it and put it back in its place, squaring it away.
“I will sit in on his trial and plead his case, just as I said.”
“With his family watching?” Noble picked up a round glass ball.
Hackenstay tried to snatch the ball back as well, but Noble pretended not to notice as he examined it. The negotiant looked irritated, but then switched his gaze to me and shook his head.
His lips curled in mock sympathy beneath his bushy mustache. “Unfortunately, family members cannot watch the proceedings. But I will be sure to relay everything to them after.” He reached out again for the glass ball and missed. “If you could just return my globe?”
Noble tossed it, a short arc of glittering light, and Hackenstay caught it against his chest. He looked more flustered than before.
“I see,” Noble said, fingers drifting through papers. “So really, they will have no way of knowing whether you help their brother in court.”
“I will help him until the end! I will convince the judge and jury of his innocence.” The negotiant clutched the globe.
“So you keep saying. Let’s be short and frank here.” He stopped and turned to me. “Actually, Lady Winters, why don’t you explain to Master Hackenstay what will happen in the next fifteen minutes.”
Surprise stormed through me. Me? I didn’t give him a chance to take it back. “Your ‘contract’ is nonsense. As are your promises. You are a terrible man taking advantage of us in our moment of grief and despair. You will return all our money, Master Hackenstay. Right now. To the piece.”
“I assure you, Lady Winters, that you need a negotiant for your brother to speak his case.” Moisture gathered on his forehead.
Anger, hot and deep, coursed through me. “I’ve read the laws, Master Hackenstay. In felonious cases you cannot do the things you’ve promised. I’m no longer quite as naive as when I walked through your door last week. Return the money right now or I—we—will make sure you regret it.”
Noble smiled. It wasn’t pleasant, but it also wasn’t aimed at me.
“Why I never—you can’t—now see here—”