Chapter Twenty-five #3
“Are you ready?” Leo called, rapping at her opened door.
He’d insisted that she accompany him. Not only would it help disguise the rumors about her precise relationship with Will, but the weight of his title would offer further protection.
If the mysterious assailant made a move toward her, he’d be waiting.
Between he and Blade, they’d both resolved to dig out the traitor.
“You’ve seen Mrs. Wade to the door?”
The first thing she’d insisted upon when she returned to Waverly Place the night before.
She’d had enough of being manipulated and betrayed.
Mandeville had finished the outer casing of the transformational and picked up the interior this morning, professing his sincere apologies, but she felt it would be a long time before she could trust him again.
“With a reference.” Leo’s dark expression betrayed his curiosity, but he wouldn’t ask.
They’d never shared a relationship like that.
He’d protected her and guided her through the dangerous waters of the Echelon, but he always held her at a slight distance.
Indeed, a distance with which he held the world.
“Thank you,” she murmured, stretching up on her toes to press her lips to his cheek. “For everything you’ve done for me. For taking me in when I didn’t know what to do with my life.”
A slight pause. Then an enigmatic lift of his brow as he drew away, a rash of heat curving across his cheeks. “I believe what you’re saying is good-bye.”
She nodded. “I know where I belong now.”
“With Will.”
“How did you—?”
“Lena,” he said dryly, “there are only so many ways the loupe can be spread. I don’t even want to imagine how you caught it, since you’re my…”
“Your sister,” she prompted.
He took a deep breath. “I can never be your brother. Not in public. You know that. This was all I could ever give you.”
Always so stiff and distant. She smiled mischievously. “You’re going to be an uncle, you know?”
His gaze dropped swiftly to her midriff, then away.
“Not me,” she laughed.
An incredulous expression broke over his oh-so-proper countenance. “Good God. He’s breeding.”
“He is your brother-in-law,” she reminded him. “With any luck their baby will be just like him.”
Horror gave way to a calculated expression. “Yes,” Leo murmured. A smile edged over his lips. “That would be justice.”
He laughed then, the sound of it following them all the way to the carriage.
***
Steam carriages disgorged their occupants onto the cobbled courtyard outside the Ivory Tower.
Lena gathered her skirts and looked around for Will.
The courtyard was a flurry of color, with bright parasols and elegant hats.
At a ball, a debutante seeking a protector was expected to wear white.
During the day, the vibrant nature of the Echelon sprang to life.
“Where’s Will?” she mused.
“I don’t see Blade’s carriage,” Leo murmured. “Perhaps they’re not yet here. Traffic in the streets is rather congested.”
Her eye caught a conservative group near the stairs. “The Norwegians.” Snapping open her parasol, she straightened. “I’m going to speak to them whilst we wait.”
“Lena—”
With a blithe smile she turned and stepped into someone. They collided in a tangle of skirts, and Lena grabbed the other woman’s arm before she could help herself.
Green eyes widened and Adele looked away sharply. “Pardon,” she murmured, attempting to move past.
Lena’s fingers tightened. “Don’t. Please, Adele.”
A pained expression crossed her friend’s face. “I can’t,” she whispered. “My father’s on the verge of signing a thrall contract for me with Lord Abagnale.”
“That old brute?”
Adele glanced around. “I can’t be seen with you. You know what they’re like. This is my last chance.”
“Adele, there are whispers he beat his last thrall to death!”
Color faded from Adele’s smooth cheeks. “You don’t think I’m aware of that?” She looked away and Lena’s gaze was drawn to the heavy pearl choker that draped her throat.
“Why are you wearing that?”
Adele shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Tell me.” She reached up, as if to move it, but Adele snatched her fingers and stared at her pleadingly.
“They think I’m anyone’s game now. Colchester found me alone—”
“Colchester?” Lena hissed. “What did he do to you?”
“He said since I liked it so much with Cavendish…I couldn’t stop him. That’s why I need Abagnale. He’s rich and he gives his thralls everything they desire.”
“That’s to make up for the bruises.”
“I don’t care.” Adele’s grip tightened. “If he gives me enough, maybe I can pawn it. Maybe I can get enough money to run away. To America. To New York.”
Lena’s gut clenched. For a thrall to break his or her contract meant execution. “They’ll find you.”
Adele’s shoulders slumped as if hearing the truth had stolen her last hope. “Then I’ll stay with Abagnale for as long as…as I can.”
It wasn’t fair. Lena had found her own sense of freedom, if she could convince the Norwegians to accept the treaty. But Adele hadn’t. And neither had any of the young women fanning themselves in the square, putting on airs as they tried desperately to attract a benefactor.
“Don’t accept him,” she said, tearing her glove off.
Grabbing the ruby on her finger, she twisted it off and pressed it into Adele’s hand.
“It’s got a concoction inside it that will incapacitate a blue blood.
Here. Like this.” She swiftly flicked the tiny thorn out and showed Adele what to do.
“It’ll give you a chance to get away if any one of them tries to hurt you again. ”
A fierce light flashed through Adele’s eyes. Then faded. “And then what?”
Damn this world. Lena wanted to scream at the injustice of it.
“If you need help you can come to me. Or to Leo. Tell him I sent you.” Sudden inspiration hit.
A way to protect those like her, who didn’t have any way to fight back.
“That’s what I’m going to do,” she whispered.
“I’m going to open a house. A place for young women in trouble to come to, where no one can hurt them or force them to submit.
A place they can stay as long as they want, until we can find a new life for them. ”
Adele stared at her. “And how do they get away?”
“I’m going to start a new fashion,” she declared. “In ruby rings.”
Adele looked down, at the gem sparkling on her finger. “I like it,” she whispered and a tiny hint of hope returned to her expression.
“Adele!” Mrs. Hamilton snagged her by the other arm, shooting Lena a glance she might have given a stranger. “Come. Lord Abagnale wanted to admire your pretty new necklace.”
“Don’t make any decisions,” Lena pleaded. “Not yet.”
Then Adele was swallowed up by the crowd and Lena was left behind, with a new dream smoldering in her heart.
To do such a thing would mean going up against the blue bloods who liked their little game. It also meant surviving the next day. Forcing the prince consort to recognize what Will was doing and hold him to his pledge to change the laws.
Her determined gaze settled on the Norwegians.
They saw her coming, the grizzled old Fenrir’s eye narrowing on her.
He’d made little concession to the event, still wearing his stark eye patch and wolf fur pinned over his shoulder.
The pair of handsome young men at his side had cast off their own furs and wore matching navy uniforms, buttoned up the left breast, with gold frogging and epaulets.
She recognized Eric, with his windswept golden hair and the queue of swarming ladies nearby.
Lena nodded to the Fenrir. “My lord.”
“So you survived,” he growled back.
“Indeed,” Lena replied, ignoring his rudeness.
Turning, she greeted the other members of the party. Lady Astrid wore a slight smile, her pale blond hair gleaming against the silvery ruff of fur over her shoulder.
“Considering how ill I was, I’m quite surprised at the swiftness of recovery. I feel in most excellent health,” Lena said.
“The initial fever is the only danger,” Astrid replied. “Your body’s attempts to repel the virus are what threatens you. Once the fever abates, the virus heals you rapidly.”
“Fast, furious, and rather violently passionate,” Lena mused. “Reminds me of someone I know.”
Astrid smiled. “It will take months yet for your full strength to settle in. You will find your moods erratic and yourself prone to emotional outbursts. You must learn to control these, for fear of hurting someone.”
“Even a woman suffers from such tempers?”
“Especially a woman,” Eric jested.
Astrid turned her quelling gaze on him. “Considering how many times you were dumped in the sea or chained in the cage, you are bold to talk.”
“Play nicely.” Magnus eased a hand on both their arms. His hungry gaze narrowed on someone. “We are being watched.”
The breeze stirred Lena’s skirts as she followed his gaze. The Warhammer watched them from across the courtyard. The Duchess of Casavian conversed with him, but that wasn’t what caught Lena’s attention. On the other side of him, the Duke of Lannister glared at her over a flute of champagne.
Colchester.
She didn’t realize she’d taken a step toward him until Astrid caught her arm. The sudden burning rage she felt almost choked her. He had threatened her, hunted her, and almost killed her. And then he’d tried to do the same to Adele. A shimmering red haze settled in her vision.
“You must breathe. Nice and slow,” Astrid cautioned her. “This is what I warn you of. This fury. This uncontrollable need. You must let it go.”
“I don’t want to.” With the fury coursing through her she felt powerful, invincible. Without it, she was afraid she would feel like she always had—a timid little mouse, scuttling away whilst Colchester stalked her.
“You would not reach him,” Astrid said. “They will cut you down, then turn on us. You know this to be true.”