“What plot?” Malice asked leaning closer.
McKenzie shook his head. “I don’t know. She didn’t say and I didn’t ask. I assumed the less I knew, the better. Frankly, there have been a few times that I’ve questioned her sanity. She seems to lose herself somewhere in the past.”
Malice straightened. He believed the man. Mostly because if Lady Abernath had told McKenzie that she wanted to out the owners of the Den of Sins, he wouldn’t have arrived at this very club. “Why did you come here tonight?”
McKenzie looked down at his hands. “I thought I could increase my money before I left and this club has the highest stakes games in all of London.”
Malice let out a snort of disgust. “Your problems will follow you wherever you go.” Then he straightened. McKenzie wasn’t the only man allowing his past to ruin his future. Malice had been doing the same. But not any longer. It was time to rescue the woman he loved. “Is your carriage outside?”
“Yes,” McKenzie answered, his brow drawing together. “Why?”
“Give me your cloak.”
“But,” McKenzie covered the clasp with his hand. “I need this—”
Malice raised his hand and brought it down hard on McKenzie’s face. He should have punched the piece of shit. He blamed Cordelia, she was making him soft. He’d have to kiss her over and over as her punishment. “Give it to me now. If she isn’t there, you won’t be needing it because you’ll be at the bottom of the Thames.”
With a trembling hand, the other man unclasped the wool garment and handed it to Malice. “She’ll be there.”
He grabbed the garment and then the collar of McKenzie’s shirt, pulling the man half out of the chair as he leaned down in his face. “How do you enter the Countess’s house? And remember…your life depends on Cordelia
’s safe return.”
“I always come through the kitchen. Never the front door.”
The outside door slammed open and Daring stood, filling the doorway with his dark glower. “What did I miss?”
Malice looked at his friend, dropping McKenzie back in his chair. “I’ll catch you up on the way. We are headed to Lady Abernath’s house to rescue Cordelia.”
* * *
Cordelia sat in the bed slowly chewing a piece of cheese while the countess spread jam on a cracker and then popped it into her mouth. Her stomach turned. She should not, under any circumstances, be breaking bread with this woman. But then again, she needed her strength. Whatever they’d given her had made her sick to her stomach and the food was helping.
“Better?” Lady Abernath gave her another of those cold smiles. The sort that set Cordelia’s teeth on edge.
“Yes, thank you, my lady.” What was she doing? Her mother had drilled manners into her, but did she really need to thank her captor for a bit of cheese?
“Call me Cristina,” she said as she picked up a cube of cheese. “McKenzie was right. You are very sweet. Too nice to be mixed up in this.”
She opened her mouth but closed it again. She was tempted to ask, if they held her in such high regard why had they stolen her from her home, but it was likely a useless question. “And yet, here we are.”
The smile slipped. “So, my dear, the sun will come up very soon. We could have you back in your bed before anyone in society is the wiser. All you have to do is agree to attend a party tomorrow night. At it, you’ll tell everyone with an ear for gossip that you heard the Duke of Daring and the Earl of Effington secretly own and run London’s most notorious gaming hell.”
Cordelia nibbled her lip. “Can I ask you a question? How does that information hurt them? I’m not sure I understand.”
Cristina nodded. “They’ve built the club by pretending to be pirates or thieves or something. Meanwhile they operate in society as if they have sterling reputations. They should suffer the way a woman would.”
Cordelia rubbed her chin. “I’m inclined to agree that society is unfair to women.” She didn’t add that she doubted it would hurt the men that much. Did their livelihoods depend on the club’s revenue?
And more importantly, what would happen if she refused the countess’s offer? Or if she agreed and then didn’t follow through? Or if…
“I see your little brain turning.” Cristina leaned forward. “Did you know that they threatened me? Said they would have men claim to be my lovers and go to my husband?”
Cordelia suspected that the men really had been her lovers. “I’m sorry?”
Cristina nodded. “I only married the Earl of Abernath because Darlington left me for ruin. The man is cruel and repulsive.” She gave a shiver then leaned forward. “He’s taught me how to really hurt another person. Physically.” Then Cristina reached out and took her hand. Pulling it toward her Cordelia tried to pull her arm back, but she was still so weak and the countess’s grip was tight. Reaching for the candle, she dripped a large spot of burning hot wax on Cordelia’s skin. Without meaning too, Cordelia let out a scream, the burn sending shivers up her arm as the pain amplified.
Quickly, Cristina let the arm go again and righted the candle. “I’m a nice person, Corde.”