by Alyson Chase
Digging his fingers into his scalp, Max groaned. “Christ, I’m an idiot.”
“We already knew that,” Summerset said. “We want to know if you actually”—he wrinkled his nose—“love that woman?”
Max flopped onto the settee and dropped his head onto the backrest. He stared at the trompe l’oeil of the sky painted on the ceiling. An emotion as lauded as love shouldn’t feel like this. Like his heart had been ripped from his chest, shredded to small pieces, and shoved back inside the cavity to rot. Like each day of his life would be a misery if it didn’t start with Colleen lying beside him.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Summerset swore. “I’ve lost another one.”
Ignoring him, Max looked to his two friends who knew something. “What do I do? I sent her away.”
Montague tilted his head. “To your club? Hardly the far side of the world.”
“But what I said …” He’d been so cold to her. Had locked down his emotions. Didn’t let the hurt in her eyes sway him from his course. Guilt gnawed at him.
“We all know you’re not perfect, either.” Rothchild knocked Max on his shoulder. “She’ll have to do some forgiving of her own.”
Max nodded, his resolution firming. He was a determined man, used to getting his way. Colleen was a proud woman, however. He swallowed, his throat going thick. Earning her forgiveness wouldn’t be easy.
But he’d do whatever it took. Colleen might not be perfect, but she was perfect for him. He’d been a fool to ever think otherwise. Catching Zed was the second most important thing he had to do that night.
Sliding to the edge of his seat, Max rested his elbows on his knees. “Let’s go through the plan again. Mark out all our positions. I want this done quickly and cleanly.”
“What’s the rush all of a sudden?” Summerset asked.
“I have new plans for the evening and I can’t waste time playing around with a blackmailer.”
***
Colleen shut the lid on her borrowed valise. All of her belongings fit easily inside; she would take nothing that Max had added to her wardrobe. Sitting on the lid, she dropped her forehead to her knees. The finality of the act struck her and a shudder tore through her body.
Her time with Max was over. She needed to face that. She’d told him the truth, shown him who she truly was, and he didn’t want her.
She took one breath. Two. Each inhalation sending pain clawing through her chest. She pushed past it. She’d endured the loss of her husband and the accompanying guilt. She would endure the loss of Max.
A footman knocked on the door. Colleen rose and took the note from his hand. “Thank you.” It only took one glance to confirm its contents. “Can you take my case down?” she asked the man, pointing to where it sat on the floor. With a nod, he hefted it to his shoulder and disappeared from the room.
Colleen sat on her bed and read the note more closely. Her cousin, although terribly inconvenienced by her sudden request, would honor his duty and allow her a spot in his daughters’ bed. So long as she remembered that poor Jonny had grown another inch and required new clothes. That Julia was feeling most indisposed and would appreciate help around the house.
So long as Colleen remembered her place.
Well, there was nothing for it. Beggars couldn’t be choosers. And living under the yoke of her cousin was infinitely preferable to spending one more night under the roof of the man who’d broken her heart.
Grabbing her old coat, Colleen marched down the hall. She thought about stopping in her office, writing Max a note. But what was left to say? He would know where she was. The guards that still trailed her every step would see to that. And she couldn’t imagine Max would be anything other than relieved by her absence. She was doing them both a favor by removing herself from his presence. A favor to Max and a mercy to herself.
A guard at the bottom of the stairwell held the door open. “Where are we going, madam?”
“To Wapping. I have family there.” She swallowed down the bile in her throat. “Just give me a moment to speak with Lucy, and I’ll be ready to leave.”
She found the woman working in one of the back rooms. She was one of three girls with two male customers writhing together on the absurdly large bed of the Amethyst Room. A large crowd had gathered around the scene, and the hands of those watching were disappearing into as many unheard-of places as those of the participants on the bed. Just another night at The Black Rose.
The moans and shudders seemed to be reaching a peak so Colleen stepped back out of the room and waited, leaning against the opposite wall.
Lucy hurried out a few minutes later, securing a billowing silk robe about her. “Did you want something?”
Colleen raised one side of her mouth. “Even with your attention diverted amongst so many people, you still noticed my entrance. I’m impressed.”
She shrugged one slim shoulder. “In my work, you have to keep one eye on the door at all times.” She took in Colleen’s coat. “You going somewhere?”
“Yes.” Clasping her hands together, Colleen gave the girl a tight smile. “My employment at The Black Rose has come to an end. I will be leaving its management in your hands. Now is the time to impress Lord Sutton. Prove to him that he doesn’t need to hire anyone else to run the place.”
“But …” Lucy opened and closed her mouth. “It’s too soon. I haven’t learned enough.”
“You found us another wine supplier, didn’t you?” The door to the Amethyst Room opened, and Colleen guided Lucy down the hall to the main room. The band was playing a lively tune, and several people were dancing a rather drunken jig. “And you think you’ve found a replacement for Molly.”
The woman nodded, worrying her bottom lip.
“That is management,” Colleen assured her. “Keeping supplies well-stocked, heading off disasters. I know you keep tidy ledgers. And you know how to manage all the personalities here. Everything else you can learn as you go. And if you have questions, I will be staying with my cousin. You can contact me there.”
“What will you do?”
Colleen hadn’t thought that far ahead. Pulling a pair of threadbare gloves from her coat pocket, she tugged them on. “I will find something.” Hopefully, if Max apprehended Zed tonight, he would make good on his long-ago promise of a premium. If Mr. Ridley’s flower shop was no longer for sale, well, there would be others. She would find a way to achieve her dreams.
Something pinched behind her breastbone, and she rubbed her chest. Dreams were funny things. They had a way of changing without a person even being aware of the transformation. Her flower shop, full of energy and life, didn’t seem so sparkling as it used to. Just another place where she would spend her days alone.
Shaking the melancholy from her mind, she clasped Lucy’s hand. “I have every faith in your abilities. Remember, there is no shame in asking for assistance when needed.” She pressed a brass key into the woman’s palm. “My office is now yours.”
“Thank you.” Lucy flipped up the collar of her robe. “I guess I should change. The manager of The Black Rose shouldn’t wander about in a negligee.”
“Go to the wardrobes upstairs.” Colleen checked her reticule, making sure she had all she needed. “The baron fitted them out with all the uniforms you could ever need.”
With one more well-wish, Colleen was on her way. She strode outside to the carriage waiting at the sidewalk. The guard held the door open, giving her a hand up.
Facing front, Colleen settled in, clutching her reticule tightly on her lap. Her guard sat next to her, and the carriage rolled forwards in silence.
Every fiber of her being longed to push back the window’s curtain and watch as her home for the past several months faded from view. As though prolonging her sight of the building would prolong her connection to Max. She might have done so had she been alone.
The carriage stopped, the streets around them silent.
She rapped on the ceiling. “Is there a problem?”
No an
swer.
Frowning, her guard lowered his window and stuck his head out. “I don’t see anything blocking us. Why aren’t we moving?”
Colleen glanced outside. The man was right. The street lay dark and empty before them. The Black Rose was situated on a narrow side street in a business district that bedded down at night. Perfect for men to keep their club membership private.
She bit her lip. The emptiness was unnerving. The club lay only thirty feet behind them. “Perhaps we should turn around?” Get out and run was more to point, but showing her fear never helped anyone.
Leaning forwards, the guard wedged his shoulders through the window until he was halfway out. “I don’t see our driver. Nor the other guards who’re supposed to be following.” Flicking back his jacket, he reached for a pocket pistol. “Hell. Stay—”
Something thudded. The guard’s body jerked, then fell slack, hanging half out the window.
The door on her side of the carriage was flung open, and Colleen shrieked. Slapping at the hands that reached for her, she lurched to the other side of the carriage. The guard had been reaching for a weapon, and if she could only get her hands on it …
She felt for his pocket, kicking out at the body trying to clamber inside with her all the while. Her thumb just brushed cold metal when the guard’s body swung out of her reach as the door on that side opened. The poor man slid from the window, crumpling in a heap at another dark form’s feet. The shadow reached for her just as a hand encircled one ankle.
Colleen renewed her struggle, knowing it was hopeless. The odds were stacked against her. She wouldn’t win. Whatever these ruffians wished to inflict upon her, they could.
But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t spend her last breath fighting.
Chapter Seventeen
Rain tapped against the stained-glass windows, the sound a low tattoo throughout the marble chambers of St. Katherine’s cathedral. Max leaned against a column at the far end of the nave, looking deceptively casual, but every muscle in his body was coiled tight.
Zed was late. Max popped open his watch. Two minutes and forty seconds late to be precise. Tucking the timepiece away, he looked at the crucifix hanging behind the altar. Jesus looked as impatient as Max felt. Catching Zed had fallen in his list of priorities. Right now, Colleen was laying her head down on her pillow, thinking he didn’t care. That problem seemed more important to rectify.
That’s what his heart said. His mind knew better.
He checked the doors and hallways that led into the nave, wondering where the trap would be laid. Just like Max, Zed would not be arriving alone.
A door squeaked open by the front entrance. Max’s body hummed, his restlessness spiking when he saw the slight, cloaked figure walk down the side aisle. A woman would prove a good distraction.
Her slippers made no sound on the stone floor. She stopped by the first pew and dropped to one knee before sliding onto the bench. She stared at the altar, the hood of her cloak covering half her face.
Easing around his column, Max searched the rest of the church. All remained still. He cocked a shoulder against the column and crossed his arms over his chest. He slid a hand into an inside pocket and gripped the butt of the pistol hidden within.
He was tired of waiting. “Are you here for me?” he called, his voice startling loud in the church.
The figure didn’t flinch. “Of course.” The voice was low, melodic, as soothing as a fire on a cold winter’s night.
It sent a shiver of dread straight down Max’s spine.
He took a step closer. “Do I know you?”
She laughed. “I would like to say intimately so, but, sadly, I’ve never had the pleasure.”
“Show yourself.”
“As you wish.” Gracefully, she lifted the hood, pushing it off her head, exposing a twist of glossy brown hair. Molly winked at him. “I’m not usually the one taking orders, but I’m open to new experiences.”
It couldn’t be. Max searched the corners of the church again, expecting Zed to appear at any moment.
He and Molly were alone.
“You are Zed?”
She inclined her head.
“How?”
Draping an arm along the back of the pew, Molly raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you really mean ‘why’?”
“I know why.” Making a quarter-turn, Max pinned his gaze on the shadows dancing beneath the lip of the front doors. His men or Zed’s—Molly’s—he didn’t know. “Greed, of course. The motive was always obvious. People are such grasping, common little creatures. It’s not surprising you’d be the same.”
“Hah! I’ve been leading you and your friends around by your noses for the past year. I’m hardly common.”
Max gripped the end of the pew. “You’re smarter than most, I’ll grant you that. But someone of true intelligence would understand that honor is worth more than money.”
“Now you’re just speaking nonsense.” She traced a pattern in the grain of the wood. “You don’t truly think your friends outside are going to help you, do you? My men have already identified each and every one of them and are disabling your force as we speak.”
They would try, Max had no doubt. But he trusted in the abilities of his friends. “How do you get men to kill, and die, so easily for you? Money and threats only go so far. Some of your followers, it’s as though they are in a trance.”
She shrugged, her cloak slipping off to expose a pale shoulder covered by a slender red strap. “If that’s what you want to talk about, all right. I discovered early on in life how easily men could be swayed. At first, just by spreading my thighs.” She wagged a finger at Max. “Your sex truly has no self-control when it comes to the snake between your legs. The secrets I learned were delicious.”
Max didn’t doubt it. Many a campaign had been defeated by a seductress. “Men can speak too freely, especially if prevailed upon by some pretty young chit. But I saw someone cut his own throat rather than betray you.” He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t care how sweet in bed you are, no doxy is worth that.”
She laughed, a light, tinkling sound. “Do you think that’s all I am to my men?” Leaning forwards, her eyes caught the flickering lights of the candles on the altar. “I am the alpha and the omega. The reason my men get out of bed in the morning. Earning my approval is their sole purpose in life.”
“You used your skills from the club, your authority as a dominating woman, to affect these men’s minds.” Max could see it. When a person submitted him- or herself, they made themselves vulnerable, physically and mentally. A mad-woman, talented in her craft, could use that susceptibility, bend it, until the people she dominated depended upon her for the very air they breathed. “Is that why you stayed on at The Black Rose? Lord knows you didn’t need the money. Why keep working there?”
“It isn’t work when you enjoy it. Besides,” she said, adjusting the strap of her gown, “one can never have enough money. The secrets I learned at the club, the men I brought into line under me, definitely made it worth my while.”
There was a scuffle, a groan, beyond the front doors. Max’s friends were close. Fascinating as Molly’s mental defect was, it was time to wrap up this chapter in Max’s life. “We have the church surrounded. You have to know the Crown won’t let you escape.” He cocked his head. “Why did you engage with us? Why not take your ill-gotten gains and buy a villa in Tuscany?”
She jumped to her feet, shaking with fury. “What gains? Six months ago, you and your friends laid waste to my network, froze half my net-worth.”
Yes, and if their calculations were correct, the remaining half was still more than most earls could hope to see in their lifetime.
She advanced a step. “I always return a favor. A cut for a cut. I owe you for the trouble you caused and it’s time that I delivered.”
She was mad. Max could see that in her eyes. He wondered if Liverpool would account for her illness when he decided her punishment. “My friends are waiting at the front door,” he said
gently. “Come with us quietly, and let’s avoid further bloodshed.”
“Isn’t that sweet?” Running her palm down the ermine trim of her cloak, she smiled. “You think it’s your friends at the door.” She flicked her fingers in a shooing motion. “Well, go check. Let’s get that last bit of hope of yours out of the way.”
Max stepped back, uneasy, and glanced at the double doors. Of course, it was his friends beyond it, waiting in the narthex. Molly might have a lot of men under her control, but Max and his friends had all the resources of the Crown behind them. Liverpool wanted Zed caught; he hadn’t been stingy in the amount of men he’d sent.
“Go on.” She bit her lip, looking coy and girlish, and nothing like a criminal mastermind.
Keeping an eye on her, ready to pounce at the first sign of her flight, Max made his way to the doors. It was time to end this charade. Maybe once Molly saw she was surrounded she’d give up her delusions.
He flung open the left door, ready to ask his friends what had taken them so long. An unfamiliar male face stared back at him. Max frowned. Liverpool had many men. It could be someone Max hadn’t met.
It wasn’t until Max had convinced himself of that fact that he saw the arm the man had a grip on. The body attached to that limb was hidden behind the second door. With a tobacco-stained smile, the man tugged on the arm and Colleen stumbled into the doorway. Her face was pale except for the purpling between her left eye and temple. Her hair had long ago escaped its pins and flew about her head in a crimson tangle.
Instinctively, Max reached for her. The man holding her took a step back and pressed the edge of the blade he held with his other hand beneath her breast.
Max’s feet rooted to the ground. He swallowed, his mouth dry as the desert, and let his arms drop to his sides.
Understanding crashed on him likes waves, swamping his brain, making him dizzy. His friends wouldn’t be coming. If they’d been able, they would have rescued Colleen already. He was all that stood between the woman he loved and the vengeance of a lunatic.