In Bed with a Rogue (33 page)

Helena leaned to peek out the carriage door. “I heard that.”

“And the fairer sex is a nosy lot,” Fergus said with a wink. “Never forget it, milaird.”

Sebastian chuckled as he climbed into the carriage and sat beside Helena. “He’s a good man. Very wise.”

She plopped back against the seat with an exaggerated huff. “Wise enough not to make that claim in front of his kinswomen.”

Fergus’s laughter was muffled as he closed the door and climbed on the box to ride with the coachman.

“Are we taking the bridge or ferry?” She swiveled toward him. “Because if we take the bridge, Cora’s ordeal will be cut shorter. We can wait outside the gates.”

“
Cora’s
ordeal,” he muttered.

She sighed. “I am sorry, Sebastian. I know her threats are worrisome with Eve not yet settled in marriage, but Cora would never carry through on them.”

He wished he held the same confidence in her sister’s goodness. So far Cora had done nothing to prove herself worthy of Helena’s loyalty. Of course there was a remote chance her sister wasn’t responsible, but that begged the question of who was.

He turned to look out the window. As the carriage flew past streetlamps, the interior lit for brief moments before plunging in darkness again. The gossips would be giddy if Helena’s past was revealed. A debauched gentleman stealing a young girl from a poor family. Elevating her to the status of viscountess and lying about her heritage. Any number of assumptions could, and would, be made about the years Prestwick held her at his castle, none of them complimentary.

Sebastian hadn’t considered how his sister might fare if this story made it into the gossip sheets. Helena was Eve’s sponsor. Certainly her fall from grace could tarnish his sister’s reputation too.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, a dull pounding beginning behind his eyes. Putting his mother and sister through more turmoil was unacceptable, but even more gut-wrenching was the prospect of Helena going through the same humiliation he had suffered. The person threatening the woman he loved would be caught and dealt with tonight.

They were silent as the carriage weaved through the maze of city streets, and when they reached the bridge, Helena grabbed his hand and squeezed. He smiled to reassure her.

Colorful lanterns flickered through the trees as the carriage approached the gates to the gardens. A barouche and hired hack were the only other vehicles outside the gate. Most revelers took the ferry across the river.

“We have arrived,” he said and gently tipped up her chin. “Remember, you are to stay in the carriage until I return, no matter how long it takes.”

“I promise.”

He kissed her quickly then the carriage door swung open. Fergus set the stairs in place and Sebastian exited. As he neared the entrance, Helena called to him. “Lord Thorne.” She was braced in the doorway.

“Yes, my lady?”

“Perhaps if you mention my name, she will not give you trouble when you apprehend her.”

“It is worth the effort. Thank you.” He shooed her back inside, pleased when she ducked into the carriage and closed the door.

Spinning around, he collided with a woman hidden in the shadows. “Pardon me, madam.”

She pulled the hood of her cloak higher to cover her graying hair. “It was my fault, sir. Forgive me.” She slipped past him with her head lowered and hurried in the direction of the dock, stumbling over something on the path.

“The ferry doesn’t stop running for several hours,” he called. “Don’t worry. You will not be stranded here.”

She kept her current pace and disappeared into the dark.

Sebastian dug a few shillings from his pocket to pay for his and Fergus’s admission, then they started down the dimly lit path toward the statue of Handel, the gravel crunching under their boots. The orchestra was playing in the distance and had drawn the crowd away from the Grand South Walk. Reaching their destination, Sebastian dropped the purse he’d filled with pebbles earlier at the base of the statue, and they took up positions among the trees and waited.

“Here comes someone,” Fergus hissed.

Sebastian stole a peek. “It is a couple.” The pair made their way down the walk at an agonizingly slow saunter. The woman’s happy chatter carried on the air and eventually faded as they continued deeper into the gardens.

There were several similar incidents of people passing the statue without a glance, but no sign of anyone behaving suspiciously. After what seemed like an eternity, Sebastian leaned against the rough tree trunk. His legs were tired and his stomach had begun rumbling with hunger. “What time is it?” he asked Fergus. “I misplaced my watch.”

The Scot pulled a watch from his pocket and stepped onto the path to check the time in the glow of a lantern. “Ten till one.”

“The damned extortionist is late.”

Fergus shrugged and returned the watch to his pocket. “I think it is fair to say the lass isna coming.”

Sebastian blew out a breath, stirring the hair on his forehead. “Then we will go to her. I want this settled tonight.”

Twenty-nine

Helena stayed close to Sebastian’s side as they searched the alley behind White’s Butcher Shoppe for a door leading directly to the living quarters abovestairs. Fergus was ahead of them by several steps with a lantern.

Waiting close to an hour for Cora to arrive at the gardens had left Sebastian in a bit of a temper. She wasn’t any happier about the wasted evening, but…

“Perhaps she had a change of heart.”

His gaze cut to her. “Or became spooked and fled. Either way, we will know in a moment.”

Fergus stopped in front of a battered door with peeling green paint and tried the handle. The door swung inward with a loud creak. “I found a staircase.”

He held the door while Sebastian took the lantern and led the way. Helena’s heart pounded as Sebastian knocked on Cora’s door. It was an ungodly hour to disturb anyone, and she didn’t know if Mr. White would be the type to answer with a rifle in his hand.

There was no response. Sebastian knocked again, this time louder.

“You are going to wake the children,” she admonished.

A bump sounded inside then footsteps padded across the wood floors. Locks tumbled and the door flew open. “Thomas, where is your—”

Cora squeaked and slammed the door. The lock tumbled again.

With a sigh, Sebastian drummed his fingers against the door. “Mrs. White, we are not leaving until you speak with us.”

“I—I am not decent, sir.” Her voice was muffled as if she spoke through the crack.

“Cora, let us in so we may put this business behind us,” Helena said.

“But it’s the middle of the night.”

“Cora,” Sebastian said on a growl.

“Very well. Wait a moment.”

Footsteps receded followed by a rattle before Cora returned to the door.

Sebastian urged Helena to stand back and handed Fergus the lantern as the metal clicks of the lock echoed in the small space. Cora ripped the door open and flung a cast-iron skillet above her head. Sebastian’s hand shot out and grabbed the skillet. She flailed as he wrestled it from her hands. Her bare foot shot out and connected with his thigh, almost hitting his groin.

“Take this,” Sebastian barked and thrust the skillet at Fergus.

Cora kicked again. Sebastian twisted to the side, and her foot slammed into his leg.

She released a painful cry and began hopping on her other foot. “Ow! Ow! Ouch! Oh, blast it all!”

Sebastian reached a hand toward her sister.

Cora slapped it away. “Don’t touch me.”

“Enough.” Sebastian scooped Cora in his arms and stalked into the apartment. He deposited her none too gently on a kitchen chair and held her in place. “Stay.”

Her chin hitched. Icy daggers shot from her eyes. “Who are you to order me about in my own home?”

“I am Sebastian Thorne. Your sister’s betrothed. And most people get to know me first before wanting to bash my head with a skillet.”

Helena came into the kitchen with Fergus trailing close behind. “We didn’t mean to frighten you. Didn’t you recognize me?”

Cora shook her head. Her face was pale and glistened in the lantern light. “I thought
he
sent you.”

“Who?” Sebastian asked.

Cora reared up. “How
dare
you try to manhandle me? Lord or no, you’ve no leave to—”

Helena shushed her. “Let’s not wake the children.”

“They could sleep through the Battle of Waterloo,” Cora said with a flip of her wrist.

Sebastian turned one of his charming smiles on Cora, although it didn’t reach his eyes like his true smiles did, and pulled the blackmail letter from his pocket. “Explain the meaning of this.”

When she didn’t take the letter, Helena did. “I will read it.” Their mother had taught them to read as young children, but Cora had always struggled with words.

Fergus held the lantern high to shine light on the page.

“Dear Lady Prestwick, unless you want everyone to know your sister is a whore and your husband won you gambling, come to the pleasure gardens at midnight tomorrow. Leave 130 pounds in a bag—”

Cora gasped. The hand covering her mouth trembled.

Helena continued. “Leave 130 pounds at the foot of the Handel statue. If you do not meet my demands, your story will be sold to the gossip rags.” Helena’s arm dropped to her side, the letter dangling from her fingers. “Cora, what do you know about this?”

She shook her head, her hand still over her mouth. “I swear, I know nothing. Where did you get it?”

“Someone delivered it to the town house while I was visiting Pearl.” Helena came closer to her sister. “You must know something. Lord St. Ambrose said you had asked Lavinia for this same amount.”

Her chest rose and fell rapidly. “This is the first time I have seen that letter. You must believe me, Helena.”

“I believe you didn’t do it,” Helena said, ignoring Sebastian’s soaring eyebrows. “But the amount is bizarre, and it happens to be the amount you need. Why 130 pounds?”

Cora’s gaze darted toward the door and landed on Fergus. He could be an intimidating presence. “I owe someone that amount.” She shifted to the edge of her chair. “Please, Helena, my husband cannot know. I made a mistake.”

“How could you possibly owe that much? Cora, are you in trouble?”

She shrugged, tears filling her eyes. She swiped at them angrily. “Mr. Zachary says he will start dragging our belongings from the apartment—the furniture, our clothes, the dishes, everything—unless I pay my debts.”

“Who is Mr. Zachary?”

Cora sniffled. “H-he runs a dice game in the alley. I’d been watching for days, figuring out the patterns. I know the dice are loaded, but I thought I could beat him.”

“Gambling?” Helena’s stomach turned and she slumped into the chair closest to her sister. “After you saw what gambling did to our family, you still bet on a game of dice?”

Cora reached for Helena, her eyes earnest. “I thought I could win. I was going to use the money to pay my bill at the dressmaker. Thomas never would have known I had charged more than I should have. Now I don’t know what I will do. My husband doesn’t have the money to pay my gambling debts. If we lose our belongings, he will be humiliated.”

Sebastian scowled. “What type of man tricks a woman into gambling and takes her money?”

“The kind that smells like fish.” Cora sniffled again and wiped her eyes with the back of her wrist. “He is a fishmonger, and I don’t think my gender matters one bit to him. He takes everyone’s money.”

The lantern flickered, casting long shadows on the walls. Helena couldn’t believe her sister would be so foolish as to follow their father’s example. Had she learned nothing from their ordeals?

Helena suppressed a sigh. She was very put out with Cora, and she would like to leave her sister to correct her own mess, but she couldn’t. “I will pay your debt, but then you must promise never to do anything like this again.”

Cora’s eyes widened. “Do you have that sort of money? I saw you leave in a hack the other day. I thought widows’ pensions barely amounted to anything.”

Sebastian cleared his throat. “Helena, do you recall your conversation with St. Ambrose? You are not likely to help your sister by making this problem disappear. Another will rear its head soon enough.”

Helena refused to meet his gaze, instead focusing on her sister’s somber expression. She saw a flash of the troubled young girl who had lost a mother, and then slowly watched her family deteriorate, beginning with Helena leaving home. It wasn’t right that her sister should lose her belongings and have her marriage ruined over a foolish choice.

“I have the means to cover your debt. I will help you.”

A smile lit Cora’s face as she sprang from her seat to toss her arms around Helena’s neck. “Thank you! Thank you! I will repay you. I promise.”

Helena eased from her sister’s tight grip. “You don’t owe me anything. You are my sister. I only ask that you never gamble again.”

“Pfft!” She flicked her wrist. “I don’t gamble that often. I’m not like Papa. I told you I only wanted to pay my dressmaker, and I could have won if I hadn’t been distracted and lost count.” She offered a smile to Sebastian and Fergus. “Goodness, I should make some tea. Where are my manners?”

Helena grabbed Cora’s hand before she flitted away, her fingers encircling her sister’s dainty wrist. “I must have your word. If I cannot trust you to pay your debt and not get into a similar situation, I cannot give you the money.”

Cora’s eyes hardened like a frozen lake and she jerked free of Helena’s hold. “Are you accusing me of being a liar?”

“She did no such thing,” Sebastian said, moving to stand at Helena’s side.

Cora ignored him. “How dare you pretend you are better than me? How dare you believe you suffered more?”

“I never said—”

Cora slammed her palm against the table. “Do you truly think you are so honorable because you went off and married some bleeding toff with a castle and wealth, and now ye’re a
lady
?” Her sister sneered the last word.

“That is enough,” Sebastian said.

“I’ll damn well decide when I have said enough.” She punched her fists down to her sides and held them there, trembling. “You think you saved our family by leaving with Prestwick. And Lavinia? Good Lord, she reeks of martyrdom, giving up her virtue like she did. Well, what about me? What about
my
sacrifice?”