“What do we do?” Ada was never the best in these situations.
“We need to get home.” She thumped on the carriage wall. “Driver. Let’s find another way.”
“Yes, my lady,” he called back and then snapped the reins, moving through the crowd to turn left on one of the many side streets.
With the carriage moving, Ada could breathe again. “Lady Abernath is winning on one front. She’s struck fear in our hearts.”
Emily shook her head. “You’re right. I hope they catch her soon. This is getting tiresome.”
The situation was worse than tiresome. Her time with Vice was forcing her to face some hard truths. She had feelings for Lord Viceroy, ones he would never return. She had to figure out how to close herself off again.
* * *
Vice stood in a dimly lit club, the hour well past midnight. The place reeked of stale liquor and unwashed bodies. His nose curled up and he pulled out his pocket square, then placed the fabric over his nose. He pinched the fabric tighter to his nostrils. When had he gotten squeamish?
This was the third establishment he, Sin, and Bad visited this evening, each one worse than the last. Had the women always been so garish? The liquor so vile?
He wondered how he’d feel in their club, the Den of Sins. It had always been a second home to him, but something had shifted, where he wished to just be at home. A red-haired woman approached him. Not the auburn shade of Ada’s hair but a bright red. She flashed him a large smile, her hips swaying back and forth in a manner meant to attract attention. “Aren’t you a pretty one.” She smiled, sliding her hand along his shoulder. She didn’t smell like cinnamon or honey, rather like cheap rose water and unwashed body.
He kept his face passive, not moving a muscle as he fished into his pocket and drew out a coin. “For you,” he said. “Go take fifteen minutes for yourself.”
She pressed closer. “You don’t want to join me?”
“I must decline,” he answered.
Bad narrowed his gaze, his heavy brow dropping low. “Did you just pass up a perfectly good woman?”
Vice had his doubts about perfectly good, but fortunately for him, Daring entered the room and waved from the door, his fist clenched around a piece of paper. Then the man stalked across the room, the crowd seeming to part for him. “We’re leaving,” he said by way of introduction.
Sin stepped forward. “Why?” He swept his hand across the club. “She mentioned coming here several times.”
Daring leaned in closer. “Ada and Emily saw the countess today when they were out in their carriage.”
“Ada was out without me?” Vice straightened his gut dropping in fear. “Is she all right?”
“Fine.” Daring gave him a curious stare. “But she saw Abernath with a man. Emily described him in her letter,” he paused and waved the piece of paper, “as tall, long dark hair, and several sc
ars on his face.”
Vice sucked in his breath. “She was with Crusher.”
Daring gave a nod. “I can’t believe she’d stoop that low. Even among thieves the man has no honor.”
“Are we going to Crusher’s place?” Bad asked. “If she’s under his protection, it will be difficult to take any action there.”
Daring shook his head. “I thought we’d wait outside for her to exit. See if we can’t intercept her?”
“It’s as good a plan as any,” Vice answered. Part of him was relieved. If they caught her, life could return to normal. But another voice wondered what that life held exactly? Did he even want that anymore?
But he pushed these thoughts aside as he followed Daring out the door. They climbed into Daring’s carriage but it was Bad who spoke first. “Rather than just wait outside, I’ll go in,” he said. “Crusher and I have a history. I can visit without arousing suspicion.”
Daring looked over at Bad. “Dare I ask what that history is?”
Bad shrugged. “I wasn’t always a lord like you.” He sat back. “We’ll use that to our advantage tonight.”
Vice winced. “I’ll come in with you. Perhaps we should pretend to be drunk? Join in as patrons?”
Bad gave him a long look. “How did you become so delightfully good at subterfuge?”