This degenerate lump of unrepentant flesh had dared to put his hands on Gina, stolen her innocence from her, hurt and beat and savaged her. Jeremy knew the desire to kill. Bloodlust, pure and simple, was what it was. To kill this evil sitting before him would bring no sting of conscience. A goddamn public service to England is what he’d be doing!
“Took? You pile of shit, I married her. She is my wife!”
Strawnly flicked his tongue out and swiped both corners of his mouth with it, looking just like a lizard, his dead eyes going back in between Jeremy and Luc before settling on the guard. “My new dolly doesn’t quite compare though. Her tits are smaller.” He looked to Jeremy again. “Now, your wife…mmmmm…her titties are simply magnific—”
Jeremy lunged so fast Strawnly jerked backward and hit his head on the wall behind him. Luc held Jeremy back as he spat out his response in a lethal rasp. “You’ll shut your fucking mouth before you see so much as a farthing. Don’t speak of her again, or I might lose my temper and kill you right here in public, consequences be damned.”
“So volatile, Greymont,” Strawnly grumbled and then shrugged him off. “About my instructions, have that cunt abbess bring it to the same place as before.” He wagged a finger at them. “She comes alone though, tomorrow night—the money and safe passage. There’s a ship out of this pissing rain and doldrums island at midnight tomorrow, and I’m going to be on it.”
“Good for you,” Jeremy said. “And Marguerite?”
Strawnly rolled his eyes. “God, why do you care so much? She’s just three holes for my cock. That’s all any female is good—”
Jeremy lunged again, his face so close to Strawnly he could smell his fetid breath and nearly gagged. “Where is she, you degenerate animal?”
“Easy now. We don’t want to cause a scene,” Strawnly drawled. “For some reason, that whore is important, and it works out all the better for me anyway. If you must have her back, it’ll cost you a little more. Another thousand would be sufficient, I think, and providing you keep to your end of our bargain, I’ll tell where she’s been keeping. After that, gentlemen, I’ll be gone from here, and you’ll never see me again.” Strawnly looked confident.
That part of it is definitely true, you soulless bastard…
* * * *
Now Jeremy and Luc waited in the building across the street, hidden and undetected. Nightfall would come, and soon after that, Therese Blufette would arrive to deliver the money. Strawnly would take it and board his ship. Marguerite would be retrieved. And then? Well, nature would take its course, as was right and proper…
* * * *
Georgina had not been to London in more than two years, and never had she travelled alone. Well, not precisely alone. Apart from the driver, Ned, there was her maid, Jane, and then at the last minute she’d decided to bring Frisk as well. The group of four was hardly an impressive sight. A person unknown to them would be pressed to deduce who was in charge of their expedition.
Getting off from Hallborough had been a challenge, but she had done it. The staff there had not yet seen signs of her stubbornness before today. Mr. Mills and then Mrs. Richards were intent upon trying to dissuade her, but she’d simply ignored them. A quick explanation to the Rourkes was sent off, a coach ordered, her bags packed, and Ned told to drive them to London. And to her surprise, all of that was done.
The trip in to Town had proved easy enough, and dusk was beginning to transform the hues of the landscape as they pulled up to what was to be the first destination on the itinerary—number twenty-six, Oxley Street, Covent Garden.
Ned was nervous, fumbling with the retractable steps, before assisting her out of the coach. He looked up at the fashionable house sporting a red door and then back at her. “Madam, are you sure this is where I must take you? I don’t think Mr. Greymont would approve—”
“Thank you, Ned. Your loyalty is noted.” She cut him off imperiously. “This is indeed where you must take me.”
Ned dipped his head in deference and asked, “Shall I escort you inside?”
She shook her head. “Please await me here and stay with Jane. I hope I’ll not be a long time.”
Lifting the ornate, swan-headed knocker, she gave it a good smack, thinking that red was an unusual color to paint a door. A thin man answered, she assumed the butler of the house. “We are closed for business this evening,” he informed her.
Closed for business? What kind of business did they do here? she wondered. It looked like a private residence to her. She blinked at him, standing her ground.
He raised a brow. Finally, he asked, “May I help you?”
“I have come to call upon Madame Blufette,” she said firmly, lifting her chin.
The man’s face changed into one of dismissal. “Madame is not receiving tonight. She has a previous engagement and will be going out shortly.”
Georgina felt frustration. “Please, I only need a few moments of her time.”
“Sorry. That will not be possible, Miss…err—”
“Greymont. Tell Madame Blufette that Mrs. Greymont came to call.” She felt the waver in her voice but held on to her composure, determined to keep to her goal. She was going to get to the bottom of the mystery somehow. The mystery of this Madame Blufette and why she wanted to meet with her husband! The butler’s eyes seemed to widen at the mention of her name, but then he bowed and shut the door in her face.
Georgina fumed as she went back to the coach. Ned leapt ahead to help her in, seemingly thrilled she was not getting inside that house.
“Are we on to Sir Rodney’s townhouse then?” Ned inquired hopefully.