Page 34 of A Lady Most Wayward (The Queen’s Deadly Damsels #5)

Philippa had sent a maid to assist Olivia, who did her best with the wild tangle of Olivia’s curls.

In the end, they determined a loose braid cascading over her shoulder was the best option.

And it was glorious to be wearing a clean and freshly pressed gown.

A pale-green confection of frothy lace that enhanced Olivia’s eyes and complemented her fair skin.

It was cut low enough to reveal her décolletage, and while she would like to pretend she didn’t choose the dress to intentionally torture Philippa, she couldn’t deny the flush of pleasure when the duchess’ eyes had stalled on her silhouette as she descended the stairs before dinner, nor the several times during their meal she’d caught her host’s gaze trapped just below Olivia’s chin before quickly darting away.

Returning her focus to the discussion, she tried to keep up with the plans bouncing back and forth between their assembled party. A heated debate was ensuing, with Killian and Drake on one side, Hannah, Millie, and Penny on the other. Liam was wisely staying quiet.

‘He must meet with his men at some point. If we follow him long enough, he’s sure to betray himself.’ Drake’s voice was carefully controlled, though his hand fisted at his side convulsively.

‘That could take weeks, Drake. Or even months. With Hyacinth in his clutches, we don’t have that kind of time. We need to strike quickly. Decisively,’ Millie argued, her ample bosom jostling with each word, which seemed to momentarily distract her husband, much to his chagrin.

‘What we need is evidence. Something tangible and concrete to tie the Chancellor to these crimes,’ Killian interjected, avoiding the glare of his wife.

‘What kind of evidence do you imagine the man keeps? He is far too smart to leave a paper trail, Killian.’ Hannah stood, stepping away from her husband and plunging her hand into a cleverly sewn pocket in her dress. Killian’s eyes dipped to that pocket, then back to his wife’s face.

‘Darling, I certainly hope you aren’t planning on throwing that dagger at me.’

Just as he said the words, Hannah pulled free a muff pistol.

‘I’ll leave the daggers to Millie.’ She glanced at the redhead and winked before returning her focus to Killian.

‘My aim is better with a pistol at any rate.’ The flash of challenge in her eyes prompted a flush high on her husband’s cheek.

Dear God. Are they flirting or fighting? It’s impossible to tell.

But something in Killian’s earlier statement tickled at Olivia’s memories.

She closed her eyes, trying to ignore the cacophony around her and chase the thought hovering on the edges of her mind.

A black leather book. Embossed with her brother’s initials.

He kept it in his pocket and, as a boy, was always scribbling in it.

Once, she found it left out in the parlour.

In a fit of rebellion, she dared to open it.

The carefully printed words scrawled over page after page chilled her blood and caused bile to rise in her throat.

It was a list of her brother’s achievements.

Some crimes she knew, and some were far worse than she ever would have guessed.

Mementoes were pressed between the pages.

Hair that matched the exact colour of the maid’s.

A ribbon Olivia tied around her cat’s neck as a jaunty collar.

A swatch of clothing stained with something rusty and brown.

A human tooth. She had hastily shut the book and dropped it back on the table before her brother returned to the room.

When he did return, he’d snatched it up, his cold gaze raking over Olivia as she pretended to ignore him and play with her doll. But she could never escape his notice.

He’d put the notebook in his pocket, walked over to her, and tried to rip the doll from her hands.

When she’d fought him, he pinched her so hard on her arm, she had carried the bruise for a week.

She had let go of the doll, and he pulled the head off.

She never forgot his words, because he proved them true over and over again.

‘There is nothing you have I can’t take away.’

And then he had thrown the decapitated doll into the flames. She’d pressed her lips together, knowing to show him her pain would only embolden him. He’d turned and walked out of the parlour, whistling a nursery song as he went.

‘His journal!’ Olivia pulled herself from the chilling memory and jumped to her feet.

The entire group stopped talking at once and turned to face her.

Philippa cocked her head. The movement highlighted the dip of her clavicle, and Olivia imagined pressing a kiss in that sweet little hollow. ‘What?’

Olivia forced herself to look at the other faces in the room, landing on Ivy’s pale countenance.

The lithe woman, who was as slender as she was strong, wore a dress of icy blue and shone like a beacon.

She was Olivia’s closest ally. If she could convince Ivy, the others would follow.

‘Cedric had a journal as a child. He would write down all of the terrible things he did. Sometimes, he would press keepsakes between the pages like some terror-filled memory book.’

Commissioner Worthington put down his glass and stepped closer to Olivia. ‘How do you know this?’

Olivia shrugged under the intense stare of the serious Commissioner, feeling like a child caught stealing sweets.

His dark hair and piercing eyes made sweat break out on her upper lip.

She had no idea how Ivy fell in love with the man after suffering through one of his interrogations.

‘H-he left it out once. When we were children.’

‘And you opened it?’ Commissioner Worthington’s face was hard lines and sharp planes. Olivia knew from past experience he was impervious to her charms, so she didn’t attempt to use any of her usual tactics.

‘I didn’t know what it was, so yes. I opened it.’ Throwing back her shoulders, she crossed her arms over her chest. She refused to feel guilty for looking at someone’s private journal decades ago. Especially when that person was a cruel, unhinged, horror of a man. And her brother.

‘What Edward is trying to say is that your curiosity is a very good thing.’ Ivy took Olivia’s cold hands in her warm ones and squeezed gently.

Philippa slowly crossed the parlour, giving Edward an unreadable look as she paused next to where Ivy sat.

Whatever message passed between them, Edward stepped away from the settee, giving the women space.

The duchess’ index finger rubbed endlessly against her thumb. Amethysts dripped from her ears and were wrapped around her neck like a collar, but that delicate collarbone was bare and vulnerable.

Ivy smiled gently at Olivia, somehow sensing how much Olivia needed reassurance.

Because she knows what it’s like to be related to a sadistic monster.

‘Do you remember what you saw inside?’

Olivia focused on Ivy’s question. ‘It read like a journal. Each entry described something he’d done. What he would do differently the next time. What he liked. How he felt when it was happening.’

‘What about the mementoes? You said there were things pressed into the pages,’ Ivy prompted.

Olivia swallowed, feeling the weight of Philippa’s gaze even if she refused to glance up and make eye contact.

Yes, Philippa. I’m still angry with you. For being an idiot.

‘Some of the things were harmless. A scrap of clothing. A ribbon. But some were more gruesome. A tooth. Hair. Things like that.’

‘Trophies.’ Reading looked up from his ledger. His whisper of a moustache quivered as he looked at the Commissioner. ‘We’ve seen it before. In rare cases.’

‘But those were all cases of the mentally insane,’ Edward responded.

‘We’re talking about the Lord High Chancellor. Second only to the bloody Queen of England. He couldn’t possibly hide such madness.’ Drake prowled in a tight line, turning to pace back to his wife.

‘Or maybe his wealth, power, and position help him create darker shadows where he keeps his insanity cloaked.’ Penny lifted her chin. Liam reached over to take her hand in his and squeeze.

‘You’re right, my love. A beggar on the streets might be labelled a lunatic while a duke is simply called eccentric.’

‘Is it possible he would still keep a memory book?’ Philippa directed her question at Olivia, but Olivia refused to return her frank stare. Instead, she focused on the fireplace and shrugged.

‘I don’t know. He has always been a man of habits. I think it’s likely.’

Edward reclaimed his snifter of brandy and sipped it, his gaze returning to Olivia, assessing her carefully.

‘If he is truly like the other men we investigated, then it’s more than likely.

Many of them obsessed over their trophies.

Some showed more grief from losing their mementoes than they did when facing the hangman’s noose. ’

Millie stood and joined Ivy and Olivia. ‘Dear God. And this man has your daughter?’

‘He won’t hurt her. Not until he can use it to his advantage.’ Olivia knew him well enough to know this was true. It had to be, or she would go mad herself.

‘I think you’re right, Lady Smithwick.’ Reading dipped his quill in a small pot of ink precariously balanced on the corner of the ledger.

His calm words created a well of relief in Olivia.

She didn’t know the man, but to have any reassurance her daughter was safe was an invaluable gift.

‘One of the common traits we found amongst the men was a need to plan their, er, escapades, meticulously. He won’t make any moves until he is sure he can achieve his ultimate goal.

Your daughter is safe, for now. I would bet Commissioner Worthington’s life on it. ’

‘But not your own?’ Edward raised his brow at his assistant.

‘It’s a compliment, sir. My life is hardly worth that of Scotland Yard’s leader.’ The thin man ignored his employer’s glare.

Hannah tapped her muff pistol against her skirts with the same contemplative expression Reading held when tapping the feathered end of his quill against his cheek.

‘We need to act soon. I propose a two-pronged attack. We take away his leverage while simultaneously securing the evidence we need to prove his guilt, unequivocally.’

Olivia admired the economy of movement in the small woman and held no doubt about her ability to fight with the same fierceness as any seasoned warrior.

‘Of course. Brilliant plan. Why didn’t I think of that? Take away his leverage and find irrefutable proof of his guilt, all in time for afternoon tea,’ Drake muttered darkly. Millie elbowed him in his belly.

Killian sent his friend a withering glare before softening his features when he looked at his wife. ‘What do you have in mind, darling?’

Hannah narrowed her eyes at Drake then turned back to the group. ‘We need to draw him out. Once he is away from his house, we can search there for Hyacinth and stage a rescue. Surely that is where he keeps her.’

Olivia nodded. ‘It makes the most sense. But he won’t just allow us to come waltzing up to his house while he is away.

He has access to the Queen’s guard. I’m sure there will be men all over the grounds and in the house.

He’ll tell the Queen and Hyacinth it’s for her protection, but it’s to ensure he doesn’t lose his prize. ’

‘What if he brings Hyacinth to us?’ Millie’s wide smile exposed a dimple.

Drake exhaled through his nose. ‘Why do I get the feeling I know where this is going, and I am not going to like it?’

‘Because you know where it’s going, and you aren’t going to like it,’ Liam quipped, earning a black glare from Drake.

‘How do you propose we get the Lord High Chancellor to do that, Lady Drake?’ Reading asked, his brows lifted in innocent inquiry.

‘I’d wager I know.’ Ivy shared a conspiratory smile with Millie. ‘A ball.’

Drake groaned loudly.

‘But Cedric doesn’t attend balls. He only came to Worthington’s gala because he was ensuring Percival didn’t botch the plans to abduct the orphans.

Thanks to Ivy’s courage, he didn’t succeed.

’ Guilt washed through Olivia at the memory of her part in Cedric’s horrifying plans.

‘Ivy, I can never express my true regret for not finding another way.’ Olivia bowed her head, shame making it impossible to meet the eyes of anyone in the room.

Ivy’s warm hand rubbed up and down her arm. ‘Not another word, Olivia. We’ve already resolved this. In a similar situation, with no allies and no choices, any one of us would have done the same thing.’

Philippa lifted her chin a fraction. ‘And now you have all of us, Olivia.’

I don’t have you in any of the ways I want you, Philippa.

Because looking at the duchess in all her glory, Olivia could no longer deny the depths of her feelings. She wanted Philippa for more than just a moment. She wanted her forever.

Impossible.

But it didn’t stop the yearning in her heart. Nor a small voice almost lost in the much louder self-doubt.

Why is it impossible? I survived the madhouse. I escaped the clutches of my brother. I convinced the entire beau monde to hold me in their capricious regard despite my reputation as a harlot. Why can’t I woo the duchess?

She had no real answer. Because she could. And she bloody well would. She would save her daughter, destroy her brother, and win Philippa’s heart. Damn anyone who tried to stop her. Including Philippa.

With that decided, she lifted her head and finally let her gaze meet the one pair of eyes she had been avoiding all night.

‘All right. We’re going to throw a ball that Cedric can’t possibly refuse. Because it will be hosted by the Queen herself. And you are going to convince her to do it.’ Olivia smiled triumphantly as Philippa blinked.

‘Are you commanding me, Marchioness?’ Philippa crossed her arms and tapped a finger against her sleeve like a cat twitching its tail. The entire room fell silent.

‘It’s about time someone did, Duchess.’ It felt glorious to meet Philippa as an equal on the battlefield.

You have no idea how determined I can be, darling. But you’re about to find out.