Page 27 of A Lady Most Wayward (The Queen’s Deadly Damsels #5)

‘Give me those.’ Olivia snatched the letters from Philippa’s hands, recognising the heavy swipe of her brother’s penmanship.

Quickly scanning through each letter, first glance would make it seem the relationship had started harmlessly enough.

A doting uncle and his devoted niece. But something black and bitter rose in Olivia.

‘He wouldn’t dare,’ she hissed. But as she found the more recent letters, the last one dated only a week ago, it became glaringly obvious that he would.

‘Olivia, your hands are shaking.’

Lifting her eyes from the parchment, Olivia knew she must seem unhinged, but she didn’t care. ‘He has my daughter.’

‘Your brother?’

‘The Crow.’

* * *

As soon as she spoke the words, fear rushed in. Cedric Hardgrave, Lord High Chancellor to the Queen, Duke of Blackmore, and leader of the Devil’s Sons had her daughter. It played like a litany in her head.

The Crow has Hyacinth. I failed. The Crow has Hyacinth. I failed.

And each time it repeated, madness crept closer.

Philippa stood and pulled her fan from a deep pocket.

‘Lord High Chancellor Hardgrave is the leader of the Devil’s Sons?

’ She thwacked it against her leg. ‘He is the Crow? The name you refused to give me? Impossible.’ She thwacked it again.

‘He is the advisor to the Queen.’ Thwack!

‘Second only to her in power over all the bloody British empire.’ Thwack!

‘If this is true, I would have known.’ Thwack, thwack, thwack.

‘This isn’t helping, Philippa.’

Philippa pressed her perfect lips together and stared at Olivia. ‘If you truly believe this, why didn’t you tell me from the start?’

‘Because I didn’t trust you!’ Needing movement, Olivia pushed up from the bed and paced in a tight line to the window and back.

‘You were threatening to throw me in Newgate. You thought I was a deceitful, evil creature. I had no hope you would believe me. And what would have happened to Hyacinth if I wasn’t there to protect her?

Cedric would have had unfettered access to her. ’

‘Cedric?’

‘My brother. The Lord High Chancellor.’

‘His name is Cedric?’

‘That isn’t the point. I needed to make sure Hyacinth was safe from him.

Don’t you see? That is why I did those awful things.

Why I was willing to risk those poor orphans.

Even if it meant condemning my soul to hell for all eternity.

Because I had to do everything in my power to save her from him. He’s a monster.’

Philippa blocked her path to the window, holding Olivia’s gaze. ‘I am used to vanquishing monsters. And we will do everything we can to free her. But I can’t believe Lord Hardgrave is truly as evil as you say.’

‘He is my brother, Philippa. I’ve known him my whole life.

And my whole life, I’ve watched him grow darker, more twisted.

’ Olivia shut her eyes, wanting to push away the long-buried memories clawing up from the graveyard of her mind.

But she needed to convince Philippa of the truth, and facts were the only way to sway the duchess.

‘When I was only three or four, we were in the gardens. I loved seeing the butterflies dancing on the flowers. Cedric caught one, brought it to me, and made me watch as he ripped the wings from its body.’

Philippa stepped closer, but Olivia held out her hand. If the duchess offered comfort, she wouldn’t be able to continue. And she needed her to understand the depths of depravity to which her brother sank. ‘Have you ever heard a cat scream?’

Philippa shook her head, her skin paling.

‘I have. Mother gave me a kitten. On my tenth birthday. A sweet ginger ball of fluff. A week after I got him, Cedric lit his tail on fire because I refused to give him my lemon drop sweets. He laughed as the terrified creature raced through the house. He promised he would drown my cat the next time I defied him. I found the kitten later that night hiding beneath my bed, bound his tail, and made Mother give him to one of the servants.’

‘Olivia—’

But she wasn’t done. ‘When I was thirteen, he lied about one of our maids. The same one who Mother gave the kitten to, and sometimes, I wonder if that’s why he chose her.

Cedric could hold a grudge for decades. Nursing it like a coal, feeding it bits of kindling to stay alive until he was ready to fan the flames into an inferno.

He said she was stealing from his room. He demanded she be beaten for her crimes and would have done it himself if Father had allowed him to.

Instead, he watched as she was whipped, his face like a child on the morn of Yuletide.

Not just excited, but joyful. It doesn’t stop there, Philippa.

I could tell you ten more stories just like that.

Twenty. Thirty. How many do you need to hear before you believe me?

He is not well. And he is dangerous.’ Olivia had been accused of madness, but it was her brother who was insane.

He hid it behind a calm veneer, beautifully tailored suits, the right words spoken in a genteel tone.

But underneath his polished exterior beat the heart of a monster who derived pleasure from inflicting pain on others and watching them suffer. ‘You must believe me.’

Philippa rubbed her index finger against her thumb in an endless circle. Tipping her chin in an abrupt nod, she appeared to make a decision. ‘I do believe you.’

The measure of relief washing through Olivia nearly felled her.

She stumbled a step back, sitting hard on the bed.

Tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

For if she allowed one to escape, she would drown in a sea of emotions she had held at bay for so long.

‘Thank you.’ Finally, she didn’t feel alone.

Philippa sat next to her, took her hand and held it in her own, her slender fingers intertwining with Olivia’s. She squeezed gently. ‘Take heart. We will come up with a plan. Together.’

Olivia allowed herself to rest her head on Philippa’s shoulder, hoping to absorb some of her strength. ‘Thank you.’

The sun shifted higher in the sky, gulls called, the waves crashed against the cliff, but they stayed still and silent. Philippa ran her thumb up and down Olivia’s finger as she breathed in salt air, jasmine, and frankincense.

Philippa moved first. Giving Olivia’s hand a final squeeze, she rose from the bed.

‘We must return to London. Hardgrave holds far more power than I ever guessed, and your stories shed light on a disturbing picture. If he is mad, he will be unpredictable. Most men are motivated by self-preservation, but with your brother, I’m not so sure. ’

Roused from her window of peace, Olivia also stood. ‘No. He wants to win. He believes he deserves to win, and he also thinks he’s far too clever to ever get caught. Because he is. How are we going to do this, Philippa? What if the Queen is aware of his actions? The Prime Minister?’

Philippa shook her head. ‘The Queen would never condone such actions.’

‘Are you certain?’

Philippa’s silence spoke volumes. For whom was ever completely safe from corruption?

Those with great power could so easily be seduced by the promise of more.

Or the need to protect what they had already amassed.

‘No. I’m not. I am certain of Hannah, Millicent, Penny, and Ivy.

I’m reasonably confident about their men.

As confident as any woman can be about a man. ’

Olivia shared a look with Philippa. In the midst of her panic and fear, it was glorious to have common ground with the duchess.

Philippa was strong, powerful, clever, and dangerous.

Olivia respected her as an enemy, but having her as an ally brought more comfort than she would ever have guessed.

And something else. A warmth sparking in her belly and rolling through her body like a wave.

The glimmer of hope that terrible wrongs might be righted.

Philippa spoke with calm determination. ‘We should leave immediately. Hardgrave will have taken her to his home in Mayfair. He knows you will come for her, and he wants you back on his ground. Where he can control you.’

Olivia nodded. It would be just like her brother to force her back to his home. A cruel reminder she had no choice. No power. No freedom.

Philippa’s eyes flashed. ‘But he is forgetting, London is the battlefield of the Queen’s Deadly Damsels. And we will meet him blow for blow.’

‘He’ll use Hyacinth as leverage. He won’t hesitate to hurt her, Philippa. She is just another kitten to torture, maid to punish, insect to crush. It makes no difference to him that she’s his niece.’ Fear re-emerged, dousing Olivia’s newfound courage.

‘We won’t let him. We must make haste. I shall send a message ahead of us to the Damsels.’ Taking Olivia’s shoulders in her hands, she shook her gently, forcing her to meet Philippa’s gaze. ‘We will fight, and we will win, Olivia. I promise.’

Olivia bit her lip, noting the flare in Philippa’s eyes. ‘What if you can’t keep your promise? What if it’s impossible?’

Philippa blinked. ‘You asked me to trust you; now I’m asking the same. Trust me. Something is only impossible because it hasn’t been accomplished yet. We can do this. The Deadly Damsels, their men, you and me. Together. We will save Hyacinth and take down the Crow. I swear it on my life.’

Her confidence was so potent, her passion so evident, Olivia couldn’t help but get caught in the current of Philippa’s sheer will. If anyone could save her daughter and defeat her brother, it was the duchess. ‘All right. Together then.’

Philippa leaned forward and pressed her lips against Olivia’s.

Needing to feel something other than fear, Olivia opened her mouth, welcoming Philippa’s questing tongue.

Philippa nibbled on Olivia’s lower lip, her teeth scraping with the hint of something sharp and decadent.

But worry for Hyacinth pulled Olivia from the moment.

She leaned back, pressing her forehead against Philippa’s, sharing her breath. ‘Our timing is rather dreadful.’

Philippa grew serious. ‘You are rather dreadful for my concentration. And also, rather right. There is much to be done. But, dear God, Olivia. You make me wish things were different. You tempt me beyond all reason.’

Olivia couldn’t decipher exactly what Philippa wished was different.

Had she resolved any of her feelings? Likely not, but hope bloomed regardless.

Heat flared, rushing from the apex of Olivia’s thighs – a pinpoint of aching need – up her chest, over her neck, and into her doubtlessly crimson cheeks. ‘The things you say.’

‘The things you make me ache to do.’ Philippa brushed her thumb over Olivia’s lower lip. ‘But as you said, this is hardly the time.’

Olivia covered Philippa’s hand with her own, stopping her from pulling back. ‘But if it ever is the right time, I will be more than ready.’

Philippa’s pupils blew wide, and Olivia took a measure of satisfaction from knowing she wasn’t the only one needy and raw. If only things were so simple. But trouble had found Olivia once more.

Dropping her hand, she stepped back, needing distance if she were going to focus on what mattered most. Getting her daughter back and defeating the Crow. ‘How are we going to get back to London in time?’

Philippa took a moment, and Olivia could almost see her collecting each thought in her mind and organising them into order. When she curled her lips in a wicked smile, Olivia remembered all the reasons she was once so intimidated by the duchess.

I’m still intimidated.

But that wasn’t quite true. Impressed? Certainly. Intrigued? Most definitely. In love?

Not possible. But infatuation sometimes feels like love.

Philippa’s eyes flashed dangerously. ‘Oh, darling. We are going to return to London with the speed and style a duchess demands. There’s nothing wealth and power can’t influence. Including travel arrangements.’

Philippa was as good as her word. Within the space of three hours, she organised a hired carriage and driver to arrive at the seaside cottage, had their few belongings packed and ready, and wrote messages to the Deadly Damsels.

The carriage would take them to the Great Western Railway station in Exeter and from there to Paddington Station.

‘Callum, can you take these notes to a messenger and see he gets them into the hands of these ladies as quickly as possible?’

Callum shook his head. ‘There’s no one in town who can get to London faster than me. I’ll ride ahead, get your notes where they need to be, then be ready to help you when you arrive.’

Mrs Hughes stepped forward. ‘Callum.’ Her voice held fear and pride in equal measure.

Callum turned and faced his mother. ‘I’ll be all right, Mam. I’ve got to do this. I can’t stay here knowing someone has Miss Hyacinth. That she might be hurt. Not if there’s something I can do to help.’

Putting her callused palm on Callum’s cheek, she patted him. ‘Just make sure you keep yourself in one piece and come back to me, hale and hearty. You hear me, my boy?’

Ducking his head, Olivia could imagine what he must have looked like as a young lad. ‘Yes, Mam. Course I will.’

But there were no guarantees when entering a battle.

And that is what they were doing. Still, Olivia found comfort in knowing Callum would be with them to help.

She only hoped he didn’t hold a flame for her daughter.

As soon as they found Hyacinth and freed her from the Crow, she and her daughter would be getting on a ship and leaving England forever.

If the Queen was involved in this madness, escape might be the only option for all of the Damsels.

Trying to imagine Philippa carving out a new life for herself far from Belgrave Square seemed nearly impossible.

God. If the Queen is involved, how can we possibly win?

Olivia shook her head and refocused on climbing into the carriage. One step at a time. Even if every step led them closer to a cliff from which they must jump.