“If you are too much of a coward to answer me, be gone, thief. You tell Dalton that I will find a way to end him. I will sell my very soul if I have to.”
He measured her differently than he had the night they met over the fire. Indifference and pity had been abandoned. In their place, Ion looked at her as if she were an object presently owned by another. “You already did... as did I. And a fair price I got for it. He has a way of pulling a man apart—of knowing exactly what a person might desire most. A veritable devil, he is.”
Tired of round about talk and subtle threats, Arabella hissed, “Who?”
“It isn’t gold that I want, Baroness.” Ion clicked his tongue, lip curled. “I want revenge, and he gave it to me. He gave me everything, and for my efforts in aiding his cause a terrible man will be hung tonight.”
There was only one man Ion could be speaking of... Arabella was incredulous. “Harold Reagan? The dock worker convicted of murdering the Marquise of Glauster?”
Ion spit upon the carriage floor. “There is nothing in this miserable world I hate more than the sound of that name. Do not pity the villain. He deserves worse than the death coming to him.”
The grief in Ion’s eyes told the story well enough. Still, she needed to hear him speak his reasons aloud. “What did he do to you?”
“My wife and my daughter... he made sport of them until there was nothing left.”
“You know it was Harold Reagan who did this?”
“Everyone knew. The sailors laughed about it... they laughed at what he did to my little girl. When have the English ever offered justice to our people? We are treated worse than stray dogs.” Teeth flashed in the dim carriage, Ion’s sudden elation was genuine. “Well, I shall have my justice now. I will stand there in the front of the crowd so he sees me, so he knows that I am the reason his neck will break. When they jeer, as he’s shamed for the world to see, I will be smiling.”
She knew without him speaking the name how this had come about. Stomach sick, Arabella blinked, warmth running down her cheeks. How he had done it, she could not imagine, but it was her fault for telling him she’d gone to the gypsies for help. “It was not Dalton who hired you. It was not Sir Statham nor Baron Witte.”
“No.”
Mr. Harrow had manipulated Ion’s pain and her fear, all the while using them both. And it had been Mr. Harrow who’d ordered Ion to frighten her out of London all those weeks ago. “Gregory...”
A single peal of spiteful laughter preceded, “On intimate terms with that one, are you?”
Arabella nodded and spoke of the inevitable. “He won’t let you live now that your part has been played. You must know that.”
Ice-cold eyes sat in the face of a man who did not care. “On the morrow I leave for the continent, and you will return to your stone house and wait for the coming news.”
“And if I refuse to obey?”
Another smile bloomed, ill-meant and somewhat sad. “I’ve seen him operate. Mr. Harrow will claim more from you than what you’ve offered. He’ll take everything if you fail to give him what he’s owed. Take the warning to heart and return to your Crescent Barrows. If I have to tie you up and drag you there, I will miss my boat.”
Chapter 18
“L ady Iliffe!” Lizzy tossed aside her needlepoint once the baroness was announced. Out of her chair and across the room, she took her friend’s hand, exclaiming, “We all missed you terribly, didn't we Edmund?”
Handing Lizzy a neatly wrapped gift, Arabella enjoyed the welcome. “For the ladies of the house. While I was in town, the Countess Grey told me this is the very one the queen prefers.”
Lizzy pulled at the ribbon, the enclosing fabric fell away, and three precious bars of hard soap—a luxury not many could obtain even in town—filled the air with the scent of growing things.
As if to judge the generosity of the gift, Lilly came forward, but her voice was not snide, it was nervous as she proclaimed, “I thought you were still in London...”
“I left immediately after the funeral.” Having heard the edge to Lilly’s voice, Arabella cocked a brow. “There was no need to linger. Not when good friends wait here.”
Lizzy was delighted. “Edmund, it is too good.”
Both brother and sister were smiling as if anticipating some response from the baroness. When she failed to grasp their joy, Lizzy teased, “With your sudden travel, we understood why you never replied to the invitation, but that now you are returned you can join us for our upcoming soiree.”
Arabella’s confusion was open on her face. “Soiree?”
“The invitation was delivered to your door weeks ago.” Edmund chuckled. “A few days of diversions before the cold sets in. Some guests will be with us for an extended stay.”
From the sudden paleness in Lilly’s cheeks there was an obvious reason why Arabella had not heard a word about this upcoming party. The chit had worked her tricks to make sure the baroness might not be included.
Eyeing the girl, Arabella gave a knowing smile. “That sounds delightful.”