Page 17 of The Gods Time Forgot

Seventeen

Still sitting at the breakfast table, Rua wondered what Finn would suggest they do. Bitterly, she doubted it would be something public. She was appreciative of his offer, though, on account of Flossie; it bought Rua some time and possibly even some goodwill. But what they did would determine everything.

“I was planning a visit to St. Brigid’s. Care to join me?”

“St. Brigid’s?” she asked, shocked that it was somewhere outside the Harringtons’ residence.

“An orphanage.”

Rua smiled. “You’re joking?”

“I’m not.” He laughed.

“Sure, Finn, take me to the orphanage. Perhaps on our way, we’ll find a wounded bird that you could nurse back to health?”

“Emma,” Flossie’s voice called from the hall before she reentered the room. “There’s a letter here for you.”

“Are you certain it’s for me?” Rua asked, not paying her much attention.

Flossie nodded, handing it to her, shaking with excitement. “It’s from Lily Stevens.”

“Lily Stevens?” Finn asked, sounding shocked.

“Don’t look so surprised.” Rua clutched the letter to her chest. “I’m very popular.” She grinned, opening the envelope.

She’d given no further thought to Lily’s invitation, nor had she really expected one to arrive.

Flossie attempted to reach for the note, but Rua turned away.

No. 139 Greene St., 5pm sharp. Tell no one the location, not even your lady’s maid.

Rua read the words and folded the paper up. Five seemed early for a meeting that was supposed to be held in secret.

“Well, what does it say?” Flossie asked, fingers twitching.

“Lily Stevens has invited me to an event this evening.” Rua held the letter behind her back.

“An event?” Flossie let out a delighted squeal. “Forgive me. I just never—well, never mind. It’s all happening now, isn’t it?” She nodded.

Rua grimaced.

“You must get ready straightaway.”

“But I already have plans, remember? I’m spending the day with the Lord of Donore.” Plans she much preferred.

“We will do it another time,” Finn interjected. “No need to explain. I know who the Stevenses are,” he said with an encouraging smile.

Rua couldn’t help but feel disappointed. Finn was, of course, a lord and ranked high on Flossie’s list, but Lily was old money, and she held the key to Rua’s integration. With Lily’s approval, the Harringtons would be set.

“A gentleman through and through,” Flossie said, batting her eyelashes. Rua rolled her eyes.

She stood up and placed her hand over Finn’s. “Thank you,” Rua said.

He squeezed her fingers in response. Her breath caught as they both stared at their hands on the table. She yanked hers back, remembering they weren’t alone. He cleared his throat.

“Pardon me.” He rose to his full height before her. She could see nothing but him and had to force back the urge to place her two hands on his chest and run them over his broad shoulders. She had a feeling he’d let her if she wanted to.

“Are you ready, miss?” Mara asked from the doorway. Flossie was grinning beside her, no doubt hearing wedding bells.

“I’m coming,” she said, and hurried out of the breakfast room.

“This is excellent news,” Mara said as they entered Rua’s bedchamber. “I haven’t seen your mother this excited since the Daily News article came out.”

Rua laughed in agreement.

An evening with a Stevens might be the answer to all of her problems.

“Where are you meeting Lily?” Flossie came to check on her after her hair was set and she’d had her bath.

“I believe it’s a tearoom in the Iron Palace,” she said, trying to sound convincing. She’d heard the Iron Palace mentioned more than a few times and hoped it was a place Flossie would believe Lily Stevens might visit. Retail shops were one of the few venues where women were allowed to gather unaccompanied by men. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be a stretch to believe they would host events there too.

“How lovely. What gown are you wearing?” Flossie asked.

“The sapphire one,” Rua said, relieved she didn’t question her lie.

“Excellent choice. Now hurry up so you’re not late.”

For a brief moment, Finn was disappointed that Lily Stevens had inadvertently canceled their plans. But then he realized it was another sign—an act of mercy before he got in deeper with Rua and lost all his good sense.

He left for the orphanage as soon as Rua had gone upstairs and then spent most of the day repainting a fence while trying to keep his mind off her. The children were a good distraction, but it wasn’t enough.

Rather than going back to the Harringtons’ when he was done with St. Brigid’s, Finn thought it was time he had that conversation with Richard. Make clear his intentions with Annette and put this matter to bed once and for all. A plan he thought he’d settled on last night. How quickly he’d cast it aside for Rua.

This decision did not come with clarity or excitement but rather an inexplicable sinking feeling, like he’d tied a rock around his ankle and jumped into the sea.

He checked his watch. By now, Rua should be on her way to meet with Lily Stevens. He was truly happy for her. After so much turmoil in such a short amount of time, it was nice to see her succeeding. A friendship with Lily Stevens would do more for her reputation than he ever could—though part of him wanted to be the one to save her, or at least the one to try. A selfish desire, no doubt, as he was about to propose to another woman. But to have Rua look upon him with admiration? There could be no higher praise.

Resolute, he rapped on the Fitzgeralds’ front door. The footman answered and brought him into the parlor, where Richard and Gloria were entertaining.

“My lord.” Annette ran up to him. “I’m so happy you called.” He hadn’t the slightest inclination to tell her to call him Finn. It felt like a secret shared only with Rua. Though if Annette were to be his fianc é e, it was about time he did.

“Here,” Richard said, jovially handing him a drink.

As he went around the room greeting Richard’s guests, he almost spit out his whiskey when he spotted Lily Stevens.

“Good afternoon, my lord,” she said to him, courteous as could be.

“Miss Stevens,” he said with a nod, trying to come up with some explanation as to why she was here and not on her way to wherever Rua was going.

“Come, sit.” Annette patted the floral-upholstered chair beside her. “Miss Hanworth is going to play us a tune on the pianoforte.”

Finn endured forty-five minutes of poorly performed ballads while his mind worked to understand Lily’s presence. Had she canceled her plans? Or perhaps Rua had gotten the date wrong? It shouldn’t matter to him, but it did.

He’d just decided to ask Annette about it when she turned to Lily, wearing a grin, and asked, “Shouldn’t you have left by now?”

Lily let out a big laugh. Finn stiffened.

“Do you think she will actually show up? Could she be that desperate?” Lily asked.

He bit back his rising anger, knowing they were talking about Rua.

“I certainly hope so,” Annette said. “She should be arriving about the same time as the columnist.” Both women burst out laughing.

“What are you ladies talking about?” Finn asked with a smile, trying his best to keep his voice even.

“Promise not to tell,” Annette said to him, doing her best to look innocent.

He nodded, grinding his teeth together. “Of course.”

“We sent Emma Harrington to Greene Street.” Annette could hardly hold back her laughter.

“You did what?” He rose from his seat.

Greene Street was a notorious sex district. The block was littered with brothels. If Rua was seen entering one of those buildings, she’d be ruined. Never mind the danger she could be in—a woman of means walking alone in a neighborhood like that.

“It was Lily’s idea.” Annette shifted the blame.

“Don’t be sour with Annette, my lord,” Lily said, sounding bored. “I’m sure Miss Harrington will find herself right at home.”

“Give me the address,” Finn demanded.

“Surely you don’t mean to leave and go after her?” Annette jumped up, looking dejected.

“The address, now.”

“Number one thirty-nine,” Lily said, wearing a wicked grin.

“Lily!” Annette whined.

This was all part of Lily Stevens’s game. She’d given the address up willingly because she liked seeing Annette squirm. Nothing but an evening’s worth of entertainment at the expense of a woman’s life.

Finn made his way toward the door.

“Leaving so soon, Donore?” Richard walked over, noticing something was amiss.

“Ask your daughter,” Finn said, not waiting for a response.

Knowing he was faster on foot, Finn took off in a run. He needed to get to Rua before the columnist got to her, or worse.

Rua wasn’t as familiar with Manhattan as she would like to be, but she knew enough to know that she’d never been in this neighborhood before. She wished she could have brought Mara with her.

It had taken some convincing to get Mara to agree not to follow her. Mara didn’t understand why she couldn’t accompany her inside, but Rua figured if she had to go to this secret meeting, she should do it as Lily requested: alone.

“I’ll be fine,” Rua assured her. “Enjoy some time to yourself.” And she exited the Harringtons’ carriage on Ninth Avenue, outside the Iron Palace—alone. When she had walked far enough out of sight, she found a cab to take her to Greene Street.

The journey was longer than she anticipated. The road was crowded and backed up with traffic. Multiple times she wanted to get out and walk.

None of the shops or restaurants looked familiar. The streets were narrower and the sidewalks smaller and congested, but not with the type of stiff, aristocratic people she was used to seeing. She assumed this was all part of Lily’s secret society—finding unique locations to maintain their anonymity.

And then she saw the sign for Greene Street.

“I will be done in an hour. Don’t go anywhere,” she warned the cab driver.

Rua stepped onto a block of well-kept row houses. It seemed quiet save for a few gentlemen exiting the houses. One of them stopped a few houses down and made eye contact with her. The hair rose on the back of her neck before she turned away and kept walking up the block, counting the numbers until she found the one she was looking for.

She did her best to pretend she didn’t feel the man continuing to watch her. Even when he crossed the empty street at the same time she did, she told herself it might just be the direction he was headed. But her efforts to convince herself she was being paranoid fell short.

Quickening her pace, she glanced over her shoulder. Even as her stomach tightened in fear, she hoped she was overreacting. Not everyone was out to get her.

She sighed. This one was.

She smelled the liquor on him before she heard the footsteps come up behind her.

“Well, well, where have they been hiding you?”

Rua jumped at the sound of his voice. Refusing to look back, she continued toward No. 139, hoping if she just ignored him, he’d go away.

“You one of Whalen’s girls?”

Rua said nothing as she opened the front gate to the house.

“You answer me when I’m talkin’ to you,” he shouted.

“I’m afraid you’re mistaken, sir,” she said, running up the steps. She was so close; she only needed to knock.

Before she could get there, the man grabbed hold of her ankle and yanked her off the steps. The prick , she thought as she fell to the ground, skinning her palms and elbows in the process.

She tumbled down to the pavement, and he grabbed hold of her once more.

Dragging her by the hair, he pulled her behind the gate beside the front staircase, where she’d be hidden from view. When she tried pushing herself upward on her side, a heavy boot caught her shoulder, forcing her down on her back.

“I would’ve paid extra for you.” He stood over her, kicking her legs apart. “Now it appears I won’t have to pay anything at all,” he said, brandishing a small blade.

Rua closed her eyes, unable to summon the fear necessary to call for help. Deep in her core, rage was all that called to her—a sanguine song, melancholic and violent. Resolute in her hate, she opened her eyes, meeting the animal’s above her.

“What the hell?” His words were slurred, his reaction delayed.

She sprang to her feet and let out a terrible scream. The man didn’t expect it; she could see the confusion plain on his face. He stumbled backward, taking a panicked swipe as he did, managing to catch her forehead with the tip of his blade. Touching her head, she saw the bloodstain on her fingers.

The blood trickled down her face as she ripped the blade from his hand. With lightning precision, she slid it across his scruffy neck, letting out a satisfied breath as he lost his.

He slumped against the stone facade, legs sliding out from under him and a bright-red line of blood trailing down his collar.

She wondered if murder was a topic they’d be willing to discuss at Lily’s social club, though she was beginning to suspect there was no such club.

“Fucking hell.”

Rua spun around at the sound of another man’s voice. Gripping the hilt of the blade, she was ready to kill anyone who approached her with malicious intent. At the sight of Finn, she dropped the knife, which hit the ground with a clatter.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, unnerved and skeptical.

He looked up from the bloody knife, shocked by the allegation. “Are you hurt?” He reached for her, his eyes scanning her for injuries. He saw the cut on her face and cupped her cheeks in his hands as he took a closer look.

“I’m fine.” She jerked her head free. “How did you know where I was?”

Ignoring her questions, Finn walked over to the dead man’s body and crouched down beside it. He said nothing about the gaping wound running the width of the man’s neck as he checked his wrist for a pulse. He sifted through the man’s pockets, coming up empty.

“How did you know I was here?” she asked once more.

All business, he rose and walked back to her.

“I’ll tell you on the way, but, Rua, we have to get you out of here. If anyone finds out you were here, especially after …”

He didn’t need to finish. He understood the situation for what it was.

Rua turned back to face 139 Greene Street. It might’ve been a lovely home furnished with all the trappings to make it so, but now it was spoiled, the blood of a dead man seeping into the cracks of the foundation while people lived their lives just upstairs.

She lifted her hands to see if she had his blood on them. She couldn’t tell. The world spun around her and her vision began to cloud.

Rua glanced down at the knife resting comfortably in her palm.

There was no other choice. Her hand had been forced. She looked at the willing person standing before her. Blood dripped from her neck as the pressure of Rua’s blade wore on her skin.

The drumming in Rua’s ears grew louder. This was the only way to get him back, to undo what she’d done. The strength of the knife left her hand as it glided across her victim’s throat.

And another piece of her soul chipped away.

“Rua, are you all right?” Finn’s voice coaxed her back to reality.

“What’s going on out here?” a woman shouted from the top window.

“Rua.” Finn spoke softly. “We must go.”

Wrapping his arm around her waist, he practically carried her as he hurried them down the block. She was in another world, trying to make sense of what she’d just seen. Of what she’d seen herself do. It couldn’t be true.

“Oh god,” she groaned, putting her hand across his chest to stop him, then she bent over and retched onto the cobbled road.

Hovering behind her, Finn’s gentle hands gathered the strands of hair from her face while her body tried to expel the images from her mind.

Finn hated to see her this way.

“It’s going to be all right,” he said as he held back her hair while looking around for anyone who might prove a threat. It was still early enough in the evening that there weren’t too many pleasure-seekers about.

But Annette had mentioned a columnist. If she was serious and they’d gone to the same address Rua had been given, she’d have a lot more to worry about than being excluded from parties. She’d wake up tomorrow on trial for murder, and given her reputation, the fact that it was self-defense would not even be considered.

Finn was gutted that he hadn’t gotten to her sooner. He’d heard her scream, run as hard as he could, but he was too late. He was thankful that that was the scene he’d come upon instead of the other way around.

For once, none of this was Rua’s fault, but bloody hell if she wasn’t going to live with the consequences. A nasty trick played by two rotten girls and they were going to get away with it.

When Rua finished being sick, she was in a stupor, completely unaware of her surroundings. There was no color in her cheeks, and she was cold to the touch. Knowing she wasn’t well, he scooped her into his arms to carry her the rest of the way.

He waited until they were far enough from Greene Street and away from Houston to hail a cab. The last thing they needed was to be recognized.

They traveled uptown, stopping a few blocks short of the Harringtons’ residence. He wouldn’t take the chance that the cabbie might put two and two together and recognize Rua.

She slept the entire way, finally waking when the transport stopped.

“We’re here,” he whispered.

Slowly, she opened her eyes. She glanced up at him, eyes wide, like she’d seen a ghost.

“I will take care of everything,” he assured her.

She nodded, taking his hand as he helped her down from the cab.

“Are your mother and father home right now?” He needed to know what entrance to use.

She said nothing, not appearing to have heard him at all.

“Are your parents at an event tonight?”

“Um, yes, I think so. A private exhibit at the Metropolitan.”

“Right, of course.” He nodded. He was meant to be attending the charity tonight himself.

But that made things easier. Rua could walk inside without issue. He didn’t know what was going on between Rua and her mother, but he knew it was best she didn’t see Rua like this.

“How did you know where to find me?” Rua asked him.

“I heard Lily and Annette discussing what they’d done earlier this evening.”

Rua muttered a handful of expletives under her breath.

“Ready?” he asked her, daring to interrupt.

She nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yes, I’ll be fine.”

This was the first time he’d ever thought to doubt her. She’d been formidable, even when she’d been raked over the coals by their peers, but right now he was concerned for her.

He opened the front door, guiding Rua over the threshold.

She grabbed his arm. “Mara. I left Mara at the Iron Palace,” she muttered. “Is she here?”

“Left her where?” he asked. “Wait here a minute,” he told Rua while he went to look for Mara.

He rushed to the dining room, thinking she might be there, and then he checked the parlor and the billiards room. No luck.

Assuming she would turn up eventually, he thought it best to see Rua to her room. He returned to the foyer only to find Rua halfway up the stairs.

“Miss Harrington, where is it that you’re returning from?” The housekeeper’s meddlesome voice echoed through the entryway.

Rua held tight to the railing as she continued upward.

“Miss Harrington, I am speaking to you.”

The nerve , Finn thought. He was about to step in when Rua answered. She was at the top of the stairs, looking down on them both, a glow in her eyes.

“Mrs. Smith, I advise you never to speak to me in that tone again.”

A chill crept up his spine. He could only imagine how Mrs. Smith felt. He thought about going after Rua, making sure she was all right, but something told him he shouldn’t. Instinct, perhaps? He knew she would not be served by his presence, but he would find Mara for her if that’s what she needed.