Page 51 of Seduced By a Scoundrel

“Just a friendly warning.”

“As there is no such thing, you may take your friendly warning and shove it directly—”

Another shove to cut her off.

“He said you’d say something like that.”

Keep calm. You’re a Spinster, for God’s sake.

“Who said that?” she asked.

“None of your business. Now shut your gob.”

“This is a warning,” the other man said. “If you’re smart, you’ll mind yourself. Stop poking into the affairs of men. No more betting books.”

Sybil laughed. She could not help it.

The other captor made a sound in the back of his throat, half impressed. “She’s cracked.”

“Last warning, girl.”

“I doubt that very much.”

“Minos didn’t tell us—”

“Shut your face, Alfie.”

Minos.

Alfie.

It was something. Another piece of the puzzle. She would take it.

As well as the pause, the slip in concentration when Alfie said more than he was supposed to. That was even better.

Since Sybil was already pressed against the door, it was easy enough to kick out as she grabbed for the handle.

Tumbling out of a moving carriage in London was not wise. But it was wiser than staying where she was.

She only had that one moment, that fleeting element of surprise, and she would use it. She had no idea if they planned to release her or if they had something else in mind, and she had no intention of finding out.

There was a shout, a flurry of movement when the door popped open.

Sybil threw herself out, tucking her shoulder and hoping she was not about to be trampled by another carriage. Or break her leg. Crack her skull.

She hit the ground hard, and it knocked the breath right out of her. She yanked at the sack over her head. She had hit the edge of the cobbles, mostly out of the way of traffic. Sleet and slush soaked into her dress and her hair as she struggled to get to her feet. There were few pedestrians out in this weather, only a lady at the end of the street who stared in surprise.

She had managed to jump out of the carriage onto her own street. As she was relatively unharmed, the goal must have been to ruin her. To frighten her.

And she was definitely unsettled. Disconcerted, even. More than a little frightened, to be truthful.

But she would not let that stop her.

Because she was also very, very angry. And an angry Spinster was something to behold. That fear they expected her to turn inward on herself would instead shoot from her like fiery arrows. And she intended to have very good aim.

If not at this exact moment, then eventually.

She needed to get herself to Spinster House first, but she could not go tearing off in this state. It would invite notice, questions, concerns. Gossip. She could not go home either, which was mere steps away. She would not do that to her parents. They would worry. More than was helpful. She could not blame them—she was quite sure she looked a fright. Already, someone stared at her from an open carriage window.

There was one immediate solution.

Close.

Convenient.

A terrible idea.