Cynthia shrugged. ‘Perhaps I’m both. I want to find Hubert’s killer. Not just to prove my innocence, but to make sure justice is achieved. Blaming this Sinclair fellow out of convenience hardly accomplishes either of those goals. You said yourself we need evidence. If someone is going to hang for Hubert’s murder, I want to ensure they actually committed the crime.’
Helena exhaled, her gaze searing Cynthia’s soul. If the fox was being truthful –the fox cannot be truthful! It is an animal– Helena couldn’t hear Cynthia’s thoughts, but it appeared she was seeing all of her secrets. Cynthia felt bare and vulnerable.
A shiver of something unexpected raised the fine hairs at her nape. Why was it suddenly difficult to breathe?
Because sheseesme. Not the marchioness. Not society’s carefully curated lady. Not the obedient daughter and dutiful wife. She seesme.
Superintendent MacDougal ran a hand through his messy curls. ‘Well, you’ll excuse me if I do no’ throw away a perfectly good suspect in this case, Lady Burrows. We’ve been tryin’ to get something on Sinclair for months. This is as good a chance as any to arrest the bastard and hold him for questioning. He might no’ have killed your husband, but I’ll bet all the whisky in Scotland he knows who did it. And if he does no’, at least we’ll have reminded him we’re watchin’.’
‘What about the necklace?’ Cynthia asked triumphantly, holding the locket out.
‘This is more compelling than any glittering frippery.’
Cynthia narrowed her gaze on the Scotsman. ‘But if he didn’t kill Hubert, you’ll be wasting your time following the wrong man.’
Superintendent MacDougal smiled. A mercenary glint hardened his soft eyes into unyielding oak. Cynthia imagined this was the face soldiers saw when MacDougal fought on the battlefield, fierce and bloodied. ‘Yer husband was in his pocke’. Sinclair was threatening him. And the Devil of Seven Dials is a killer.’
‘Yes, but we don’t know that he is Hubert’s killer.’ She leaned into her frustration, making it easier to ignore whatever emotions Helena inspired. Emotions as confusing as they were intoxicating.
‘Catching him is the best way to discover his guilt.’
‘One would assume discovering evidence, or perhaps, talking to the man, might be more productive.’
‘I can talk to him much better when he’s in shackles and can no’ escape.’
Cynthia exhaled, using her practised social skills to paint a veneer of calm over her features. There was no point arguing when Superintendent MacDougal’s mind was already set on a course. ‘Can I assume that your investigation into me has concluded?’ It would be the one benefit to this new development. And if Superintendent MacDougal wasn’t watching her any longer, he wouldn’t see her completing her own investigation.
‘What do you think, lass? Is she lying?’
Helena’s pale skin flushed strawberry red. Cynthia wondered if she could feel the heat of her blush. She looked away from her uncle. ‘No. A-at least, I don’t think so.’
Frowning at his niece, the superintendent straightened his jacket. ‘Well, then. I suppose tha’s our answer. You are no’ a suspect, Lady Burrows. At least, we don’t think so.’
Cynthia narrowed her gaze at Helena. ‘Hardly reassuring.’
Your hair is dreadful, your magic is silly, and you are the dullest woman I know.
All blatant lies. Also, all insults that would ensure a reaction from the woman if she could hear them.
Nothing. Not even a blink.
Helena might be here to detect Cynthia’s hidden thoughts, but she was the witch with a secret. Perhaps she could read other people’s minds, but she couldn’t detect a thing going on in Cynthia’s head.
Damnation. The foxisright.
9
Helena shifted in the dark carriage. Her riding habit was hardly appropriate for any evening social events, but the lack of bustle and split skirts would allow greater ability to manoeuvre and the dark blue would blend better in the shadows. Hamlet jumped from the carriage floor onto the squabs next to her and pressed his lithe body against Helena’s side. It had been a hot day, but even in the middle of summer, the nights were cool, and she appreciated his warmth. He bumped his head against her arm, his golden eyes glowing in the lamplight leaking through the window.
‘Don’t look at me that way. I’m just doing this to stop the foolish woman from getting into even more trouble. If Ellie’s vision is right, Cynthia Burrows is more reckless than I thought.’
And more dashing. More courageous. More intriguing.
Helena pushed the thoughts into a dark corner of her mind reserved for truths she didn’t wish to acknowledge.
They were in a shadowed alley just off West Street and well in the heart of Seven Dials. She brought two of her burliest footmen and a groom who had once been a bare-knuckle boxer as protection. If they failed to scare away any nefarious rapscallions, she could always call forth her powers and drown any fool who tried to accost them.
A green door lit by a well-placed streetlamp glowed like a beacon across the cobblestone street. It seemed completely innocent. Just another nondescript brick building, nothing more. And yet, Helena knew differently. This was the entrance to the Devil of Seven Dial’s notorious club aptly named The Devil’s Bargain. Behind that freshly painted door lay the den of a thousand vices. Gambling. Drinking. Pleasure in its varied forms, all available for the right price.
