“Damn and blast it, Francesca,” Sebastian said softly, “are you listening to me?”
She looked up and realized that she hadn’t heard a word.
He sighed and bent his head, kissing the top of hers. “What do you want to do now? I can take you back to the club.”
Yes. She opened her mouth to voice it, and then she thought better of it. “Where are you going?”
“You can’t come with me. It’s too dangerous.”
“You’re going to see her, aren’t you? Mrs. March told you where she is? Mrs. Slater.” He didn’t have to answer her, she knew it. “I want to come.”
“Francesca…”
“I want to come. I have the right to see the woman who stole me and caused my mother such grief. You can’t stop me, Sebastian.”
He could stop her, of course he could, but would he?
“Please,” she murmured. “I will go in Aphrodite’s stead. For her.”
After a moment he reached out to take her hand. “I’m taking some constables from the Metropolitan Police with us. This is a dangerous game we’re playing, Francesca, and Mrs. Slater is a dangerous woman.”
“I understand that. I’m not afraid.”
“Very well,” Sebastian said gruffly. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Who’s that? What do you want with a sick old woman?”
The slurred voice was even more slurred than usual. She was drunk, thought Jed in disgust.
“It’s me. We have to get you out o’ here.”
She stared at him blearily from her chair by the fire, and he stepped closer, into the flickering light. “Jed,” she muttered, mouth slack. “What do you want, Jed? Come to take me money, have you? Well, you won’t find it. I’ve hidden it well.”
“The bobbies are comin’, cousin. T’girl you had at the club has told ’em, and they’re on their way. We need to go.”
“You’re lying,” she insisted, shrugging off his hands as he tried to lift her. “You want me money, you do. I know you Jed Holmes. That’s all you’ve ever wanted. You’re not the man your father is. You’ll never be half the man Hal is.”
The words sparked a rage in him. All the times he’d refused to listen to Hal and returned back here, to be with her. All the loyalty he’d given to her, and now she was telling him she preferred Hal? Hal, who had gone into hiding like the rat he was!
“God rot you then,” he growled. “You can stay here and get took. I’m off. And I won’t be back, neither.”
She gave a raucous laugh.
He strode through the house, pulling out drawers, throwing aside anything that might be used to hide money. He wanted his share. What was wrong with that? She owed it to him.
He didn’t hear the front door open. He was too busy rifling through a bureau, bills and receipts raining down around him. There was an iron box at the back of a drawer, and he drew it out with a smile. It was heavy. There were probably jewels in here, or sovereigns. Aye, gold sovereigns. Cousin Angela liked her gold.
“Hello, Jed.”
The voice was familiar, but for a moment he couldn’t place it, and then he remembered. Sebastian Thorne. He turned, hoisting the heavy box to his shoulder, ready to throw it, but Thorne wasn’t alone. Behind him stood several police constables in their blue jackets.
He lowered the box.
“I should’ve left without it,” he said bitterly. He nodded his head toward the other end of the house. “The cow’s in there. Take her with my good wishes.”
Francesca stepped quietly into the cozy sitting room. The house itself had been a surprise, sedate and respectable-looking, and nicely furnished. The house of someone who obeyed the law and worked hard. Except that Mrs. Slater’s work was of the cruelest and wickedest kind, and she had never obeyed a law in her life.
The woman now slumped in the chair in front of the fire was the woman who had taken three sisters away from their home and their mother. She had caused great pain and suffering. She was a monster.