Page 2 of To Heist and to Hold

At the end of an hour, after wading through a good many stops and starts and tearful words that she could barely comprehend, Heloise finally managed to extract the whole story from her distraught sister-in-law.

A story that made her equal parts terrified and furious, mingling with a guilt that deepened with each agonized word.

But now was not the time to allow those emotions to take control, not if she was to save Julia from the loss she’d incurred at Dionysus’s tables. She saw the other woman out, promising to help in every way she possibly could, before retreating to her bedroom.

But as she moved to the window to stare down into the back garden, fear sat dark and heavy on her shoulders. How could she possibly save Julia? After all, Dionysus was a massive beast, far reaching and frightening and powerful, while she was just… Heloise.

She didn’t know how long she stood staring out the window. But she was no closer to a solution when a sudden knock sounded on her door, scattering her troubled thoughts like clay marbles in a children’s game. She would find an answer somehow, she vowed. No matter how hopeless it seemed.

Smoothing her hands over her skirts, she called out, “Come in.”

The maid, Kristen, peeked her head in. “Lady Vastkern sent me to remind you of the weekly meeting in the drawing room, Mrs. Marlow.”

Damn, she had forgotten about that. “Thank you, Kristen,” she said before taking a steadying breath and following the maid out.

The Widows were already gathered about a low tea table in a lively discussion when she entered. They greeted her with smiles as she took her place in the circle.

“Was that Miss Marlow I saw leaving a short while ago?” Euphemia asked, placing a neat stitch in the bit of fabric she was working on.

A former theatrical costumer and therefore a master with a needle and thread—as well as a whole host of disguise techniques—she had the power to transform in a moment into anyone she chose.

A veritable chameleon when it came to clothing and makeup and mannerisms, she was an invaluable tool in the Widows’ arsenal of talent.

“It was,” Heloise replied. Before she could open her mouth to continue, however, Mrs. Iris Rumford spoke up.

“You do not seem happy to have seen her.” She frowned slightly, unconsciously scratching at her scalp under her mass of upswept blond curls, dislodging a leaf from the mess.

Their resident botanist, who had a peculiar talent for lock-picking and safecracking, she was indispensable to them.

She also had the tendency to think in a very linear, logical fashion that, while useful for her profession, left her confused by the minutiae of social interactions and rules.

“It’s nothing,” Heloise replied hurriedly. This was her family’s mess; she didn’t wish to drag the others into it. “But what were you discussing when I arrived?”

“Miss Amanda Sheffield, it seems, has settled quite nicely into the cottage left to her by her grandmother,” Laney said, referring to their latest case, in which they had assisted a young woman who had been robbed of her inheritance by her vile uncle.

She peered at Heloise closely. “But why do I have the feeling we have a new mystery to solve right under our noses?”

Heloise, who had been in the process of biting into a biscuit, promptly choked. Truly, it was maddening—as well as awe inspiring—just how quickly the Widows picked up on even the slightest tell.

“Do you know, my love,” Sylvia murmured to Laney, even as her eyes narrowed on a watery-eyed Heloise accepting a cup of tea from Euphemia, “I do think you’re right.

Heloise, dear, what happened with your sister-in-law to trouble you?

And don’t think to deny it. You know we can spot a lie a thousand feet away. ”

Heloise lowered her cup. “There really is no hiding anything from you, is there?”

“You know there is not,” Sylvia said cheerfully before indicating with a wave of her hand that Heloise should answer the question.

Heloise sighed. “Julia has got herself in a bit of trouble is all. But it’s not anything I cannot handle.”

Sylvia, however, was not to be fooled so easily. She pursed her lips, stirring her tea with a soft tinkle of silver on porcelain. “Why don’t you let us decide that for ourselves, my dear?”

But Heloise shook her head. “I’ve no wish to involve any of you. It’s my family’s problem.”

“Which means it is very much our problem,” Sylvia said, her voice gentling. “You are our family, too. Anything that affects you affects all of us.”

It was not the first time one of the Widows had told her this. No doubt it would not be the last. All the women in this house were uncommonly close, after all, and did indeed act more like family than anything.

But Heloise could not allow herself to be so complacent. If there was anything that growing up in her uncle’s unwilling care had taught her, it was to know her place and to stay in that place.

Sylvia must have sensed her continued reluctance. Her expression shifted, turning almost sly as she considered Heloise.

“You know,” she murmured, “we’re at loose ends just now, and have been since Miss Sheffield’s problem was taken care of. You would be doing us a favor if you gave us something to do.”

The rest of them nodded enthusiastically, their voices echoing Sylvia’s, working in concert with the fear corroding Heloise’s insides, crumbling her determination. What harm could it do to tell them?

“If you’re certain.” They all enthusiastically gave voice to that certainty, and Heloise took a breath, trying to ignore the relief that blossomed in her chest.

“Julia has come with rather unfortunate news.” She bit her lip, trying to control the anxiety and rage the past hour had dredged up in her. “And it all centers around Dionysus.”

Laney frowned, sitting forward. “The gaming hell? What does Miss Marlow have to do with such a place?”

“Much more than I would ever like to admit,” Heloise muttered. And then, because she could not have remained still if she tried, she rose and began to pace, her boots making quick work of the floral carpet beneath her feet.

“My sister-in-law has certain… skills. Skills that my late husband possessed as well, an innate ability to remember seemingly mundane things… including what cards are played in games of chance.”

There was a heavy silence. When she chanced a glance up, all the Widows were staring at her with expressions of shock mingled generously with reluctant humor and admiration.

“Do you mean to say,” Laney asked slowly, “that Miss Marlow attempted to count cards?”

Heloise nodded miserably. Which caused Sylvia to let loose a bark of laughter. “I didn’t know the girl had it in her.”

Euphemia, however, frowned. “Wait, she attempted this at Dionysus? But how ? And why ?”

“I have a good idea both of those questions can be answered fairly easily,” Sylvia murmured. “This has to do with her employer, Lady Ayersley, does it not?”

Heloise stared at her. “How did you know?”

Sylvia gave her a pained smile. “The countess was infamous for her fervor for gambling some years back. Her husband, of course, forbade it after she nearly lost him the bulk of his fortune, and she has been quiet for quite a long time. But seeing as Miss Marlow has been pulled into Dionysus’s jaws, it’s a safe assumption that Lady Ayersley was somehow involved. ”

“Yes,” Heloise managed. “When her employer learned of her ability, she forced Julia to attend Dionysus’s quarterly masquerade with her and play on her behalf.”

“An impressive plan,” Sylvia mused. “Not only would it enhance her chances of winning, but it would allow her to keep her promise to her husband that she herself would not gamble.”

“And Julia was found cheating, was she?” Laney shook her head somberly. “The partners at Dionysus would not have taken it lightly. They are known to be a ruthless lot.”

“Actually, no,” Heloise replied with no little wonder. “She succeeded in hiding it from everyone.”

Iris frowned again. “If so, why you were upset when she left?”

“No doubt because Miss Marlow went to a gaming hell in the first place,” Euphemia explained.

“But that’s not it at all,” Heloise replied, her anxiety returning tenfold when she recalled Julia’s face pale with fear.

“I am upset because, before she quite knew what was happening, she lost quite heavily. So much that Lady Ayersley put up her ruby jewelry so Julia might continue playing. Jewelry that was quickly lost to Dionysus. Jewelry,” she continued, unable to keep her voice from shaking, “that Lord Ayersley gave his wife upon their engagement, and that he has since decreed she must wear to their anniversary ball in a month’s time.

And if Julia does not somehow produce the rubies by then, Lady Ayersley has threatened to accuse her of stealing them. ”

The Widows fell into a stunned silence. “Which would mean,” Euphemia managed, eyes wide, “she will either be hanged or transported.”

“Yes,” Heloise said through a throat tight with fear.

“How horrible,” Iris whispered.

Sylvia, however, quickly rallied, waving a hand in the air. “It seems an easy enough fix. If she put the jewels up as collateral, we simply need to go to Dionysus and produce the funds to secure the necklace.”

Heloise shook her head. “Julia has already tried that. They claim they have no record of the necklace.”

That seemed to give the viscountess pause. She raised one silver brow. “No record of it? How strange. I hear Dionysus is quite meticulous and aboveboard in everything.”

“Perhaps they are not as ‘meticulous and aboveboard’ as they would like everyone to believe,” Heloise said darkly, the anger from before sizzling hot under her skin.

Laney sat forward, no doubt sensing there was much more than anger behind the words. “What do you mean, Heloise?”

“Julia is certain she witnessed the dealer at her table manipulating the deck, and that is the reason she lost so heavily.”

A silence fell over the room once more, this time electric with shock.

“Dionysus, cheating?” Laney breathed, finally breaking the spell Heloise’s revelation had cast. “I have never heard anything of the sort said about that hell. Their reputation is a source of pride to them.”

And Laney would know. Once an acclaimed pugilist, she was the Widows’ doorway into London’s underground gaming empires.

Judging by the disbelief stamped on her face, she was having trouble wrapping her head around such a piece of news.

Truly, Heloise didn’t blame her. It was an astonishing piece of information, after all.

While the lower-class “copper hells” were known for their shady dealings, the upper-class “golden hells” thrived on their reputations for fair play.

And Dionysus, by all accounts, was the most trustworthy of the bunch.

Sighing, feeling more alone than ever—which truly was saying something, considering how adrift she typically felt—she opened her mouth to excuse herself.

Sylvia, however, was once again quicker than she.

“Well then,” she declared, sitting forward, “let us begin to plan what needs to be done to recover those jewels.”

Heloise stared at her. “What are you talking about?”

Laney smiled widely, an excited gleam entering her eyes. “Oh yes,” she said to Sylvia, clasping her hand, “let’s begin. I can see this will be quite the job.”

“Job?” Heloise gaped at them. “What job? There is no job.”

“Of course there is,” Iris said, taking up the notebook and pencil she always kept with her, opening to a blank page, and looking about in expectation.

“And an exciting one, as well,” Euphemia said with a grin, putting her stitching aside, a fresh enthusiasm lighting her face.

Heloise shook her head, frowning at the lot of them. “I cannot allow you to get involved in such a mess.”

“You’re not allowing us to do anything,” Sylvia declared.

“This is what we do, after all, protecting the innocent, righting wrongs. We go into this quite willingly, I assure you.” When Heloise made to protest once more, the viscountess held up a staying hand.

“We shall all be part of this, and so you may as well accept it. You cannot take on Dionysus alone. And besides, it is the least I can do.” She gave Heloise a pained smile.

“I’m afraid my guilt will allow me to do no less. ”

“Your guilt?” Heloise asked with no little disbelief.

“Certainly. If I had given you proper warning of Lady Ayersley’s past propensity for gambling, you might have discouraged Miss Marlow from accepting a position with her, and she might not now be in this mess. And so you must allow me to make reparations.”

Which was as far-fetched a reason as Heloise had ever heard.

Yet she found she could no longer fight their help.

The truth of the matter was, she was frightened nearly witless at the danger to Julia.

She would do anything to help her. Anything.

Even if that meant adding to the massive debt she owed these women for taking her in when she had been beyond hope.

Blinking back tears, she nodded. “Very well,” she replied. “Where shall we begin?”