Marquess of Malice (Lords of Scandal 2) - Page 34
Lad Abernath pulled the cord. “Drink more water. You’ll need it.”
Cordelia stared at the other woman for a moment before she obeyed. With every sip, her headache lessoned. She didn’t ask again, assuming she’d find out soon enough.
Lady Abernath gave instructions to a servant to prepare a tray and then returned to Cordelia’s bed. Settling herself in a chair next to Corde, she leaned back, folding her hands over her knee. “You’re here because I need your help.”
“Help?” Cordelia struggled to sit up straighter. Between her arm, her head, and the glass of water, she made quite a mash of it. “You’ve abducted me and now you want my help?”
“I didn’t abduct you. Lord McKenzie has that honor. I simply want to strike a bargain.”
Cordelia gripped the glass tighter. “What sort of bargain?”
“It’s simple enough. You want to return to your family, preferably without anyone realizing you were ever gone.” Lady Abernath gave her a large smile that curled her lips, but nothing else on her face moved. Her eyes didn’t crinkle, her cheeks didn’t plump. It was the coldest smile Cordelia had ever seen. “I want all of England to know that the Duke of Darlington isn’t the wholesome picture he presents to the world.”
Cordelia drew in a sharp breath. She was beginning to understand “You want me to out Daring as the owner of the Den of Sins?”
Lady Abernath gave a small clap. “What a clever girl you are.”
Cordelia shook her head. Lady Abernath was playing nice but this woman had most certainly orchestrated this entire event. “And if I refuse? Do I stay here as your guest?”
“Oh no. Certainly not,” Lady Abernath gave a high trill of laughter. “But, I will make certain that all of London hears that you spent the night with Lord McKenzie. And as he is on a boat headed for France, he won’t be available to save you from your fate.”
“A boat to France?” Why on earth would the man agree to that?
Lady Abernath twirled her hand in the air. “Afraid so. He’s carrying an amazing amount of gambling debt. He’s got a real problem, I’d say. I gave him enough to help him live comfortably in another country but not enough that he could pay all his debts and remain here. It was a beneficial arrangement for both of us. He needed money to leave and I needed a means to an end.”
Cordelia’s stomach tightened. Lady Abernath had paid McKenzie to steal her away and now no one knew where she was or even that she was safe. How was she going to get out of this mess?
Chapter Fifteen
Malice burst into the back room of the club, his breath coming in short gasps. He needed to speak with Bad. His friend might know where McKenzie was, or at the very least, how to find the fiend who’d taken Cordelia.
But it wasn’t Bad who sat in the back room but golden-haired Vice. “What’s got you all aflutter?”
“Where’s Bad?” he bit out, stopping just in front of the man. “I need him now.”
Vice grimaced, rising up from his chair. “Exile. Malice needs Bad. It’s an emergency.”
“On it,” Exile called from the hallway between the back room and the club itself.
Malice relaxed a bit as he drew in a breath. His friends made this easier. “I need Daring too. Can you fetch him for me?”
“Of course. What should I tell him has happened?” Vice was already shrugging on his coat.
“McKenzie has taken Cordelia.” The words stuck in his throat, making the inside of his mouth feel swollen and raw.
Vice stopped, turning to stare at him. “What?”
“It’s true. Now go. I’ll need all of you to help me get her back.”
Vice gave a quick jerk of his chin and then sprinted for the door. “I need a hack now!”
Exile came back in the room. “Bad will be here in just a moment. Did I hear you say that Cordelia has been stolen away by McKenzie?”
He nodded. “Yes. If I were to guess, he’s taken her to Lady Abernath but I can’t know for certain.”
“I’d guess you were correct,” Bad said from the doorway, pulling his domino from his face. Then he pointed down the hall. “If he were still with Cordelia then he couldn’t be here.”
A jolt of energy zinged down his spine. “He’s here. Now?” He jumped toward the door, intent upon murdering the man at the table where he sat.
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