by Bec McMaster
Hopefully, Malloryn would be smart enough to make the same connections she had.
"Who makes these rules?"
"The founding four. They call themselves the Four Horsemen."
Someone had a high opinion of themselves. Adele stifled a giggle in her champagne. "The Four Horsemen? It's starting to sound like some sort of occult society, and not a club at all."
"They intend to bring about a new age," Devoncourt said. "The heralds of the Apocalypse."
"Can I meet them?" she asked. "This all sounds so dashed exciting."
"Alas, their identities remain unknown. We only know them as Death, War, Famine, and Conquest."
"It's rumored Lord Corvus owns a share in the business," she murmured. "Is he one of your Horsemen?"
He looked at her sharply. "Where did you hear that?"
"I make it my business to know what Corvus is up to." Her throat was suddenly dry. Adele finished the rest of her champagne in a hurry. "Is... is he here?"
"Gadding about in the bowels of the building," Devoncourt said. "Why?"
"Oh, we just.... We had a run-in once." When I hemlocked him in Lord Abernathy's garden. "He's not very fond of me."
"Ah, that explains why he seemed surprised I'd invited you. I assured him you were under my protection. He won't come near you."
"Well, if he's a Horseman, then how are you meant to deny him?" She made a pleased sound when she saw the flicker of frustration on his face. "You're a Horseman too, aren't you?"
And no doubt the one who'd set this all into motion.
He turned it all around on her. "You ask a lot of questions."
"Well, of course I do," Adele replied. "This all sounds so lurid. It's almost straight out of a gothic novel."
"You do realize that if you repeat any of this to anyone…." Devoncourt covered the silken threat with a smile.
Adele let the feathers of her fan brush against his lips. "Who am I going to tell?" Her voice dropped sadly. "My only friend, Lena, left me behind when she married that hulking brute verwulfen of hers. Nobody else listens to me. You're the only one who ever pays me such courtesies." She suddenly pressed her gloved hands to hot cheeks. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I'm babbling and dominating the conversation. Mother always told me I should let a gentleman speak, and I promise I will. I think that last glass of champagne went straight to my head. Do you think we can get some fresh air?"
Devoncourt looked like he was regretting inviting her. "Of course. This way."
He offered his arm and led her through an archway draped in decadent red velvet curtains.
"Where are we going?" Adele murmured, toying nervously with her emeralds. Though she knew Malloryn was listening to everything she said, she couldn't stop herself from worrying a little. She'd meant a balcony.
"Somewhere private."
He led her to a small garden alcove at the rear of the building. Glass windows lined the ceiling, offering a view of London's night sky. Lush vines trailed up the walls.
"What a lovely garden," she said, hoping Malloryn would hear. "One would never know an orangery was tucked away back here at the rear of the building."
"This place was a monastery, once upon a time," Devoncourt said. "The monks grew vegetables here, but we've made some small adjustments. This is our Garden of Eden."
And you're the snake.
"That's better," Adele murmured, as the noise died to a lull.
"Is it?" Devoncourt pressed her against a tall, marble column sheathed in ivy. Instantly, she set her hand to his chest with a warning quirk of the brow, but he merely smiled and captured her hand, lifting it to his lips.
"He's not here, cherub. No one to see. No one to hear."
"I know. Maybe I'm being whimsical again, my lord."
"Or maybe you're playing games."
There was a faint hint of warning to his tone.
"Aren't we all?"
"What did Malloryn say to you in the gardens the other night?" he suddenly asked. "He seemed quite intently interested in you, despite your claims of indifference."
"You were watching?"
"A friend mentioned it. She said you seemed flattered by his attentions. You encouraged them."
Adele pushed past him, sucking in a sharp breath. All the hairs down the back of her spine lifted. "It's not that."
"No? It's clear he's pursuing you."
"He noticed your flirtations," she said, thinking quickly. "He didn't approve of them. It seems even Malloryn is like a dog with a bone when it comes to other gentlemen sniffing around my skirts."
"You like his attentions."
How much had he seen of that moment in the garden?
"I don't... dislike them," she admitted carefully.
"And yet you're here."
The dazzling smile he shot her seemed charming, but dark edges of distrust glinted in his eyes. Pushing off the wall, he stalked toward her.
Adele didn't dare take a step back. He was already suspicious. "You invited me."
"I didn't think you'd actually come," he said, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "Why did you come, cherub?"
"Because I was curious. I was home. Alone. Once more. What do you want me to say? He ignores me all the time. I hate it. The only time he's ever paid me any attention has been of late. After you kissed me."
Devoncourt stilled. "Ah, so that's your game. You think if you encourage me, then you'll bring him to heel."
Adele gave a careless shrug. It seemed everyone thought her a heartless flirt who flitted from one man to the other. She might as well use the reputation. "I want a child. Malloryn's indifference concerns me. I find myself in a somewhat precarious position. You wouldn't understand. You're a man. I have a role to fulfill and my husband makes that role rather difficult. I cannot risk him setting me aside just because he won't…."
She bit her lip.
Devoncourt's suspicion softened. "I could give you a child. He'd never know."
"Unfortunately, he would," she replied, with a wry smile. "He's never touched me. I need him to believe the child is his."
"Ah." Devoncourt brushed his knuckles against her lips. "So you use my attentions to prick at his jealousy. You are a clever girl."
"It's not like that." Leaning into his touch, she closed her eyes and let him stroke her cheek. "I do enjoy your flirtation. It's just…, one step too far and I cross a dangerous line. You were the one who said he might lock me away. You understand?"
"Perfectly."
Adele turned her face into his palm and pressed a kiss there, her heart beating rapidly. "If I can seduce my husband, then perhaps…. Perhaps I could enjoy your flirtations more."
"Only then?"
"I couldn't risk it."
Someone cleared their throat.
"Ah." Devoncourt backed away from her. "I'd like you to meet a friend of mine."
Adele turned in a swirl of skirts, determined to do her part. This was where she would be approached and asked to do something by one of the other members of the Rising Sons. Hopefully, the mastermind behind them.
The woman who stepped out of the greenery wore a long black velvet frock coat, with a cravat tied at her throat. Her silvery hair had been bound back into an elegant chignon, and she carried a gold-handled cane.
Adele's heart started beating faster.
Whoever she was, she was a blue blood.
No human woman had skin as pale as that, or hair without a hint of color to it.
To recover her shock, she fell back on the manners that had been drilled into her as a young woman. "How do you do?"
"As of right now? Excellent." The woman smiled, capturing Adele's gloved hand and lifting it to her lips, her voice dropping into a purr. "I have been waiting to meet you for a very long time, Your Grace."
"This is the Lady Dido," Devoncourt said, gesturing to the stranger. "You did say you wanted to meet the Horsemen. Well, she is Death, and she rules here in Angel's Fall. She rules us all."
"This is the Lady Dido…."
"Is that—?"
Malloryn held a hand up, quelling Byrnes's question instantly.
"What are we going to do?" Ava asked, looking pale as Dido laughed gently at something Adele said.
Indecision flooded through him.
He'd never hesitated to make tough calls in the past.
The rest of them stared at him.
"If we go in there," Kincaid warned, "we risk ruining this entire venture."
"You can't go alone. The place is filled with dozens of blue bloods," Ingrid pointed out.
"We could lose this lead on Balfour," Byrnes said.
"Fuck Balfour," Malloryn snapped. He'd promised Adele she wouldn't come to any harm.
His first instinct was to extract her immediately, but how was he going to do that when Dido was standing right in front of her? Dido would slit Adele's throat the second she saw him.
"We wait," he said quietly, his heartbeat pounding. "Dido may not know Adele is working for us. Byrnes, I want a visual on Adele. She said she's in some sort of orangery at the back of the building, with glass walls."
"On it." Byrnes vanished.
"Herbert, do we have confirmation of where Clara is at the moment?"
The butler frowned and pressed his fingers to the earpiece he wore. "Still dancing, I believe. She was trying to extricate herself, but the gentleman would not take no for an answer."
"He'll regret that."
Herbert nodded. "He will."
If Adele kept her head….
She could do this. She thought swiftly on her feet. And she was intelligent enough to see the trap yawning around her.
Malloryn had to keep telling himself that.
"Devoncourt, could you fetch us both another glass of champagne?" Dido asked. "I thought I could have a little chat with the duchess, woman to woman."
"Thank you," Adele said politely, though he heard the tension in her voice.
"Devoncourt tells me you're interested in escaping the yoke of the Duke of Malloryn?"
"I don't know if I would dare, my lady."
Good. Nice and noncommittal. A breath eased out of him.
"It's a woman's lot, is it not? To suffer under a man's control."
"This is the world we were born into."
"But you are here to discover if you can find some way of escaping him. Poor little soul. Love hurts," Dido mused. "A woman is better off without it."
"I've never expected such emotions to afflict me, to be honest. I never expected anything more than to make a thrall contract."
"And marriage to a duke was beyond your expectations." Dido sounded almost motherly. "Besides, one would need a heart to be at risk of losing it."
One would need a heart....
Their previous argument leapt to mind, and everything within Malloryn locked down cold. This was a taunt. Somehow Dido knew exactly what had been discussed in the dining room at Hardcastle Lane.
They'd searched the entire house after someone left a letter on his desk, but there must be listening devices planted somewhere.
"She knows." The words sounded hollow and distant. "We need to get her out of there. Now. Herbert, get Clara into position."
"I would, Your Grace, but there's nothing but static coming through that line."Damn it. What was going on in there? "Ingrid?"
"Byrnes can see her," Ingrid replied, "He says they're only talking."
"Devoncourt said you wished me to assist you in some endeavor?"
Right to the point.
He leaned forward, knuckles digging into his thigh.
"Oh, yes. I was hoping you would be the key to my plans to bring Malloryn down."
"The key?" Adele asked. "In what way?"
"But that is where the problem lies," Dido said patiently. "For I cannot trust you, it seems."
"I assure, my lady, I'll breathe not a word of—"
"You don't have to," Dido interrupted. "Because Malloryn is listening to every word we say. Isn't he?"
"Pardon? I'm not quite sure what—"
"You lie very well, but you're working for him. You have been all along. But Malloryn's not the only one who can listen in on conversations. And there is someone who's been dying to reacquaint himself with you. Lord Corvus, if you will join us?"
"Lord Corvus?" Adele gasped, and there was a muffled sound of voices he couldn't quite hear.
"I trust our negotiations are complete, Corvus?"
"I am more than well satisfied."
A scream echoed through the phonograph. The sound of something crashing. And then Malloryn was on his feet and moving toward the edge of the rooftop.
"Let go of me!" Adele cried.
Adele trembled before no one. But someone had hurt her, someone had made her so afraid for her life that she'd seen marriage to him as a blessing somehow.
She'd refused to tell him who it was.
Malloryn wasn't a gambler, but he'd have bet good coin that someone was Corvus.
"We're coming with you," Ingrid said, ripping her coat off and tossing it aside. "And don't bother arguing."
One last scream echoed through the device, and the color faded from Malloryn's world as the predator within him awoke. "Then make sure you stay out of my way."
Adele spun around as a patch of shadow detached itself from the gloom near the far wall. Lord Corvus. Her nightmare. Her gaze shot to his face as he lowered his mask; those sharp cheekbones, hawkish nose, and the bottomless pits of his eyes.
This time Adele didn't bother hiding her fear as she took two steps away from him. Heat flooded in from her extremities until her heart was a rushing, pulsing engine that throbbed with it.
The passage to the gaming room stood behind her, but she'd never make it in time.
Not with Dido watching her with an amused smile as she sipped her champagne.
"Well, well, well," Lord Corvus drawled. "I promised we'd meet again, my dear, and here we are." His hungry gaze raked her from head to toe. "Here you are. In my own domain."
Where had he come from? There was only a wall of ivy in that corner.
"Lord Corvus," she blurted.
The sinister lord took a step forward into the gaslit circle of light, his dark wig and brows gleaming like a raven's wings. "Did you know, Devoncourt actually thought he could keep me away from you, even whilst he flaunted you beneath my nose."
Adele took an uneasy step back. They knew she was working for Malloryn. She had no means to defend herself beyond her hemlock ring and her little knife. No means to run. All she could do was hope Malloryn had heard this.
And that he would come for her.
"I trust our negotiations are complete, Corvus?" Dido stood, slipping her gloves back on.
"Devoncourt won't be happy," he mused. "This thwarts his plans."
"Such a shame," she mocked.
"Then I am more than well satisfied."
Corvus lunged toward her, and Adele fled, sending an enormous urn crashing to the ground. A hand snatched her skirts, and then strong arms wrapped around her, dragging her back into an unbreakable embrace. She screamed and kicked, but it was to no avail.
"Let go of me!"
Corvus slammed her against the nearest wall as Dido vanished into the gloom.
"I've been wanting to get you alone for a very long time." He brushed his cheek, where her little knife had scored the pale skin once upon a time. Thanks to the craving virus, there was not a blemish there, but he'd promised he'd return the favor. "I owe you for that debacle in Abernathy's garden."
"I apologized," she whispered.
"But you were never punished for it. You owe me satisfaction, my dear. And I've come to collect."
Chapter 18
"You want to slip the lock? Or shall I?" Charlie whispered.
Lark gave him a look that could best be described as, are you serious?
"Fine. After you," he said, cupping his h
ands and hoisting Lark ten feet up the wall.
The toes of her rubber-soled shoes slipped into cracks in the brickwork, and she hauled herself up the side of Sir George Hamilton's house like a spider. His position gave him an excellent view of her backside in her tight leather breeches—
An elbow drove into his ribs, and he barely managed to contain an oof.
"Concentrate," Gemma whispered.
"I was."
Her arched eyebrow spoke volumes. It was frightening how much she and Lark had in common.
Charlie winked at her.
"Think you can handle this?" he murmured, offering her his cupped hands. "Breaking and entering isn't really your style."
"Oh, you sweet boy," she breathed. "I was running across rooftops before you could even crawl."
Then she was scampering up the wall after Lark as if to prove it to him.
Charlie lunged at the nearby brick wall, his foot striking halfway up it. He pushed off, twisting in midair, and caught the edge of the window on the second story. It took mere seconds to join the ladies on the ledge just below the window Adele had marked out as Hamilton's study.
Lark cracked the window, pausing to see if anyone had heard.
A dog's howl echoed through the neighborhood, but other than that, there was no outcry. Not that he'd expected it. Obsidian was keeping watch on a rooftop across the street and hadn't reported any guards set on the house. Either Hamilton was a bit player in this entire scheme, or too arrogant to believe he'd ever be brought low.
Lark found the sun symbol on the fireplace and pressed it. A faint groan of stone on stone, and then the fireplace swung open, just as Adele had described.
Darkness loomed behind it.
An odd sense of foreboding filled him.
There wasn't a lock that he and Lark couldn't pick, but Gemma was here for one reason and one reason only: with her memory, she could practically reproduce anything she saw on a piece of paper.
"Adele said there were maps," Gemma breathed. "I need light, Charlie."
Charlie shook the phosphorescent glimmer ball to brighten it again. The ghostly green glow cast just enough light across the small private study to see that someone had cleaned the desk.