Inside the hidey-hole was a short ladder that led down into the darkness. On the top rung lay something folded and white. I reached for it, removed the handkerchief, and brought it to my face, turning away quickly as soon as I identified the scent.
It still smelled of the ether it had been soaked with.
I replaced the handkerchief, scooted back, lowered the panel back into place, and inched back out from under the bed.
“Heavens, Kit.” Diana helped me to my feet and brushed her hands over my sleeves. “You’re covered with dust.”
“Aye.” I helped her. “There’s a passageway in the floor concealed beneath your bed. Someone’s been coming through it, and they’ve been using ether to keep you asleep while they cut you.”
“I don’t believe it.”
I gestured toward the edge of the frame. “See for yourself. Be careful when you tug on the cord; don’t snap it.”
Diana crawled under the bed, gave a muffled cry, and pushed herself back out. “We have to call the police,” she said as she stumbled to her feet. “At once.”
“If Montrose is responsible for this, that would be very unwise.” I put a restraining hand on her shoulder. “Lord Walsh has to discover what is being done to you. When you come to bed tonight, first go under there and dislodge the panel, just enough for it to be easily noticed. As soon as your husband comes to you, drop your wedding ring and kick it under the bed. Then ask him to retrieve it.”
“What?” She gave me a wild look. “Why would I arrange such a farce? Someone is trying to kill me.”
“Someone is trying to badly frighten you.” When she began to protest, I cut her off with, “If they wanted you dead, milady, they’d have slit your throat the first night.”
Her face a mask of alabaster now, she pressed a hand to her neck. “Why would they do this? What purpose would it serve?”
“I can’t say, milady. But once your husband discovers the passage under your bed, I expect he’ll get to the bottom of it.” That might not be the result, however, and I couldn’t abandon her to a husband who might be part of this scheme. “If Lord Walsh retrieves the ring and says nothing about the panel, then he is the one responsible. I can help you get away from him.” When Diana gave me a surprised look, I explained, “We’ll make him believe you’ve left to visit your family.” I heard one of the outer doors opening and quickly stowed the echo before brushing the last of the dust from Lady Walsh’s gown. “You must act as if nothing has happened, or the game will be over.”
“Is that what this is to you? A game?” Before I could answer, she drew herself up and composed her expression. “Forgive me, Miss Kittredge. You have been most helpful, but your services are no longer required.”
Which was the lady’s way of telling me to piss off. “Think nothing of it, Lady Diana.”
She retrieved a small silk purse from her bedside table and dropped it in my hands. “Your continued discretion is also appreciated.”
From the weight I knew I was being paid three times the agreed-on fee. “I’ll keep my mouth shut, milady. You needn’t worry.”
She assumed with perfection the exquisitely bored look of a tonner. “Why ever would I do that?”
The chambermaid stood waiting in the front sitting room, a glass of water and a twist of paper on a small silver tray.
“Betsy, Miss Kittredge is leaving,” the lady told her. “Would you please show her the way out?”
Betsy looked relieved. “Yes, milady.”
After running a gauntlet of frowning maids and glowering footmen, I was shown out through the side entrance reserved for tradesmen and visiting servants.
“Thank you,” I said to the door Betsy closed firmly in my face before walking down the short stairs to the street. Wrecker was nowhere to be seen, and I couldn’t wait for him on the street without attracting attention from a nobber—one of the private security guards who patrolled the streets of the Hill to safeguard the residents from unwelcome intruders. Nobbers liked to crack heads first and ask questions later. I started making my way down the narrow walk.
Before I could reach the thoroughfare and hail a cab, a large, gleaming coach drawn by four magnificent grays cut me off. I would have gone around it but for the silver fist-and-pike crest on the door.
Of course it would be him.
Shadows shrouded the inside of the coach and the man who said, “Get in.”
The driver and the footman didn’t move from their positions; I wasn’t worth the trouble. So I unlatched the door and boosted myself up inside.
The interior was, like the coach and the horses and the servant’s livery, a dismal gray. I perched on the rear-facing bench, taking the time to arrange my skirts and satchel before I looked out the window. Watching the scenery couldn’t erase the delicious spicy scent teasing my nose or calm the nerves humming beneath every inch of my skin, but he didn’t have to know that.
“Trolling on the Hill now, are we?” I asked. “What’s the matter, didn’t your last spell for the governor provide the promised amount of dazzle?”
No answer came, not that I expected one from Dredmore.
No, Lucien Dredmore, the former Lord Travallian, mentalist, deathmage, and current acknowledged Grand Master of the Dark Arts in the whole of Toriana, simply popped a matchit with his thumbnail and lit a thin black cigar clamped between his strong white teeth. The flame briefly illuminated his craggy features but failed to find a reflection in his black eyes. Then he shook out the matchit and blew out a thin stream of smoke.
I might have loved the smell of him, but I hated his cigars. I coughed and banged my fist against the panel under the driver’s ass. “Getting out,” I called.
The coach didn’t even slow.
Lucien puffed a few more times before he examined the glowing tip of his smoke. “What were you doing at Walsh’s, Charmian?”
“Dusting the furniture. Haven’t you heard? All the maids on the Hill have gone on strike.” Inside I braced myself before I looked directly at his cruelly handsome face. “Why, is Walsh someone you haven’t yet fleeced?”
“Nolan Walsh is a member of a very powerful financial consortium,” he said. “He does the fleecing.”
“Oh, so he’s your
“Nolan wouldn’t hire the likes of you,” he said, as if I weren’t there. “It would have been the daughter. Or the new wife.”
“I don’t discuss my business with thieves and liars,” I told him sweetly. “But I’d happily tell them all about it before I’d confide in scum like you.”
Accustomed as he was to my insults, Dredmore didn’t even bat an eyelash. “There’s a dark, dire force moving through the city, Charmian. You’d be smart to stay clear of it.”
“A dark,
He regarded me through the cloud of smoke between us. “You’d rather tromp all the way back to that hovel of yours than accept my assistance? Why get in, then?”
“The last time I didn’t,” I reminded him. “You had one of your hooligans grab me and toss me in.” Lucien had gagged me that time and put his hands on me as well, something I still wanted to stab him in the heart for.
He leaned forward. “Come to supper tonight.”
“No.” Short, unadorned, straight to the point: that was the only way to refuse Dredmore. That and the visible brandishment of one or more sharp weapons. I knew I shouldn’t have left my daggers at home.
“I felt something today,” he told me. “A disturbance in the netherside. Old magic.”
The netherside, realm of all things mystical. Supposedly it was parked up against reality, just out of sight to
