Page 56 of Seduced By a Scoundrel

“Minos was the king of Knossos in ancient Crete. When his son was killed in Athens, he forced them to send seven girls and seven boys every nine years to enter the labyrinth.”

“The same labyrinth with the minotaur. The man with a bull’s head?” Emmeline asked.

“The very same. They were eaten.”

“What a lovely nom de guerre. Very subtle.”

“But is it a person or a society?” Priya asked. “Did Alfie say anything to help us there?”

“Either? Both? I can’t be sure. The suggestion is that he or they are not to be trifled with.”

Peony smiled, showing all of her teeth. “I happen to like trifle.”

“It’s not much to go on,” Sybil admitted. “But thank you, Alfie, you incompetent ass.”

“We shall find him, I can assure you of that.”

“What do we do in the meantime?” Emmeline asked.

“For one thing, we tell our wife when someone tries to crush our skull,” Matilda muttered, her Spanish accent thickening. She spoke at least seven languages but always reverted to her mother tongue when upset.

“We carry on as best we can,” Priya added. “Although it is definitely not safe anymore.” A line formed between her brows.

“It’s never been perfectly safe,” Sybil pointed out with a shrug. She had the scars to prove it. And did not regret a single one. “And if all of us miraculously survived assorted attempts, it seems likely this was just a warning, which they said as much to me. An order to stop.” She lifted her chin. “And I do not take orders.”

“And I know just where they can stuff those orders,” Peony muttered.

“That’s what I said! They were not keen on hearing my suggestion. There were two men, maybe three. No aristocratic accents, though I suppose they could have been using street cant to throw me off. Seems unlikely. More likely they were hired off the street so as not to be accidentally recognized. It was broad daylight, after all. Very risky.”

“Yes, I do not care for that either,” Priya said, gold bangles flashing as she drummed her fingers on the armrest of her chair. “Too bold by half.”

“It was a hackney carriage. I could not see inside, given as there was a sack over my head.”

“Very rude indeed,” Matilda said.

“Quite. But if someone is coming for us,” Sybil added, “then I intend to do as much damage as I can in the meantime. Especially as we appear to be effective in meddling in ‘men’s affairs’.”

“I am going to have that printed on my calling cards,” Emmeline murmured. “Meddling in Men’s Affairs Since 1815.”

“I think I’ll open a second house,” Priya said. Sybil could all but see the cogs and wheels turning inside her head. “Just in case. Clearly, we are no longer as secure—or as secret—as we once were. If they are coming for us one by one, then they already know too much.”

“And use this house for misdirection?” Sybil asked.

“Precisely.”

“Well, I’m staying here,” Peony declared. Everyone knew she would not leave the heated pool or her obstacle course for love or money. Or threat to life and limb, as it were.

“As are we,” Emmeline added, her fingers linking with Matilda’s. “This is our home.”

They looked at Sybil. She snorted. “What do you think? But first, I must change for the Copperwhite musicale.”

“You were already abducted today.” Matilda winced in sympathy. “Haven’t you suffered enough?”

“Sadly, no. I’m to be Mrs. Farraway’s companion.”

“Worse and worse.”

“Care to take my place?”

“I’d rather be pushed into traffic again.”