Page 50 of To Heist and to Hold

“Of course,” Isaac said. And then he was off, sprinting back down the hallway.

Heloise grasped her skirts in her hands and turned then, intending to race to where Julia and Iris stood and have them help in the relighting—only to find both women hurrying her way, no doubt having sensed that something was very wrong.

“What has happened, Heloise?” Iris asked breathlessly, thin body fairly trembling in her agitation.

“We need to assist the footmen in relighting the lanterns, now,” she said.

Neither woman needed further urging, both no doubt hearing the desperation and fear in Heloise’s tone.

They immediately located tinderboxes and turned for the closest lanterns, going to work without a word.

Heloise had not gotten far, however, when one of the employees, in the same deep purple jacket and full face mask as everyone else who worked at the club, passed by, heading back to the boxing venue.

“What’s that you’re doing there, Mrs. Marlow? ” he called out.

That rough voice could only belong to Mr. Copper. “Mr. Sinclaire has ordered the relighting of these lanterns,” she explained. “Can you please make certain the ones in the boxing venue are relit?”

“Of course,” he said with a dip of his head. “And if I’m lucky, I’ll be able to catch the end of the match as well.”

He exited the casino. But she hardly saw his departure because Julia, suddenly back at her side, dug her nails into her arm. Heloise glanced down in shock—only to see her sister-in-law staring after Mr. Copper, fear having dredged every last bit of color from her face.

“Heloise,” she croaked. “I recognize that voice. It’s him, the man at the table that night, the one who took the jewels.”

Heloise’s heart dropped into her stomach. “Mr. Copper? You are certain?”

“Yes.”

Ah God. Her gaze flew to Iris, who had come rushing back over, and saw some of her own shock mirrored back at her.

She should feel relief, of course, that they had discovered the culprit so quickly.

With luck Mr. Sinclaire had reached Euphemia in time to stop her from dousing the gas lighting, and they could cancel that portion of their plans altogether.

This could hopefully be wrapped up quickly, with little damage to the club.

But relief was the farthest thing from her mind just then.

For besides his brother and Mr. Teagan and Mr. Parsons, Mr. Copper was the person at the club Ethan trusted most, so much so he had conferred the important position of floor manager to him.

He had known Mr. Copper since he was a boy, had grown up in the same rough streets, had a shared history with him.

More than that, though, she knew Ethan considered the man a friend.

“I have to go tell Ethan,” she whispered, even as her heart broke for him.

Just as she was about to step away, however, a roar went up from the boxing venue, louder than ever, a sound that didn’t stop.

That was it, she realized dazedly, the indication that the match was over, the proof that Euphemia had been waiting for.

But had Mr. Sinclaire reached her in time?

She looked to the massive chandelier that soared above the casino floor, dread and a hopeless kind of hope nearly suffocating her—just in time to watch the flames on it flicker and go out.

The roars of triumph and despair changed then, yells and shouts taking their place. And then the rumbling came as hundreds of pairs of feet sought a way out. And that rumble was headed her way.

Instinctively she pushed Julia and Iris against the wall, fear snaking under her skin as her eyes strained to adjust. A good number of the lanterns had been relit after Mr. Sinclaire’s orders.

But would they be enough? The crowd from the boxing venue began streaming into the main casino then, a mass of dark, undulating bodies.

The faint, fitful light glinted off gold and jewels and illuminated the faces of the patrons, highlighting the panic that etched their features.

It was a panic she and the Widows had counted on.

But was the low lighting—lower than they had planned on—making that panic more than they had bargained for?

Blessedly, the footmen had truly taken Mr. Sinclaire’s orders to heart and were even now doing their best to illuminate the space, all while trying to calm the terrified horde of patrons.

Equally a blessing, the slowly increasing light also allowed Heloise to find just what she needed in the crowd: Mr. Copper, mask off now, hand clutching a bundle to his chest, ducking into the stairwell that led to the upper floor.

She should wait to tell Ethan. She knew she should. Hadn’t she promised him, after all, that she would not take any unnecessary chances, that she would remain safe?

But the very idea that, in the time it took to inform Ethan, Mr. Copper could conceal proof of his thefts had Heloise panicking.

For she knew that if he was not caught in the act, he would never reveal the location of Lady Ayersley’s jewels.

She had to follow him herself, now . But how could she leave Julia alone in this chaos?

Just then a slim male figure, one of the many footmen who littered the place, materialized at her side. “Heloise, have you seen anything yet?” he asked in a familiar feminine voice.

Heloise’s knees nearly buckled in her relief. “Euphemia, thank God. I think I’ve found the culprit. Stay with Julia for me?”

As Euphemia hooked a protective arm about Julia, Heloise turned to Iris—only to have the breath sucked from her body.

Iris had her hands pressed to her ears, eyes squeezed tight, and was hunched against the wall as if in physical pain.

Damn it, how had she forgotten Iris’s panic in crowds? She had to get her out of this mess.

“Iris,” she shouted over the din, hugging an arm tight about her shoulders in that way that seemed to ground her when she lost control, “I can bring you someplace quiet. Can you trust me?”

There was a pause, barely a heartbeat, but it was enough to make Heloise want to scream. Finally Iris nodded, tucking her head into Heloise’s shoulder.

It was all the encouragement she needed.

Holding Iris tight against her, she fought their way through the crowd, pushing through the mass of people.

Finally she made it to the door to the upper level.

About her, more and more lamps were being lit, the employees’ voices begging for calm, guiding people out.

The cacophonous sound of coins crashed over the scene, the harsh voices of men yelling as someone took advantage of the chaos and attempted to steal from the abandoned tables.

But she ignored it as, a rising fury filling her at the pain and grief that Mr. Copper had caused in his greed—and that was still to come when proof of his betrayal came to light—she and Iris followed Mr. Copper into Dionysus’s dark abyss.

Ethan had fully intended to put his entire focus on sticking to the impressively detailed plans that Heloise and the other Widows had set out. Success was paramount, after all, and it could be achieved only if everyone did their part, each of them a cog in a very intricate machine.

But when the lights had flickered out, and the screams had begun—so much more panicked than any of them had expected—he had known deep in his gut that something had gone wrong.

And as his eyes struggled much more than they should have to adjust, that something wrong was made frighteningly obvious: It was too blasted dark.

A few meager flames flickered at the perimeters of the room, but the majority of the extra lamps were not lit.

Why? But even as he cast wild eyes about, trying to understand what had happened, there was one thing and one thing only that filled his mind: Heloise.

Vivid images crashed through his brain as the crowd surged like an angry, storm-churned sea—of Heloise lifeless, trampled beneath hundreds of feet.

Bile rose in his throat and he forced it down.

No, he told himself fiercely, as, mask off, he pushed his way through the mass of people desperate to escape the cloying shadows of the boxing venue, she was safe.

She was strong, and capable, and would have things in hand. He trusted her.

Trusted her. Those words should shock him, considering how she’d deceived him.

Yet they felt right. But he could not think of that now.

A woman stumbled in front of him, her towering powdered wig falling to the floor and immediately trampled.

He reached out, steadying her, nodding distractedly as she thanked him profusely, even as his eyes strained to make out anything useful in the feeble lamplight swinging in pendulous arcs as his workers guided the horde of people out to safety.

They were owed extra pay after this, he thought grimly, squinting through the gloom.

He came to the ring then, taking up one of the lamps hanging on the outside edge, quickly lighting it and peering within.

There, in the middle, was Lady Vastkern, propping up a bloodied Mrs. Finch.

Mrs. Holburn was there, too, with her manager, and he let out a sigh of relief to see that they were all safe.

“You are well?” he shouted over the noise.

“Yes,” the viscountess called back, her face set in fierce lines of determination. “But something has gone wrong. Heloise—”

But he could not think of her now or he would go mad. “I shall help guide everyone out, and then I shall find her,” he replied. “I promise.”

She nodded, her thanks fairly screaming from her eyes as she returned her attention to Mrs. Finch.

And then there was no time for Ethan to think as, turning back to the crowd, he went to work.

Lantern held high, he helped guide the fearful people toward the exit, assisting one gentleman who had lost his footing, calming a wailing young woman, directing his employees.

All the while he fought the panic that had burrowed like a vole beneath his breastbone, trying to dig in deeper with sharp claws.

Finally, he guided the last of the patrons through the long hallway and into the casino itself.

But there was no reprieve from the panic surrounding him.

Though the room was better lit than the boxing venue had been, the shouts and cries were more enraged here.

Through the gloom he spotted several close masses of people on the floor, men fighting each other for the abandoned bounty at the tables, his employees doing their best to protect Dionysus’s coffers.

But lost earnings were the least of his concerns.

He stopped in his tracks, scanning the cavernous room wildly even as patrons flowed around him, like a raging river around a boulder.

In one corner, Teagan was assisting a crying woman, guiding her toward the exit.

In another, Parsons was using his fists to push back a group of violent young men as they attempted to crawl over a table.

And there, not ten feet from him, was Isaac, using his body to protect a feminine form against the wall. Heloise.

He pushed toward his brother like a madman, desperate to get to him, to her . But even before he reached them he knew by the height of the woman that it was not Heloise at all. That was proven a moment later as he came abreast of them and Miss Julia Marlow’s pale, fearful face turned his way.

Disappointment crashed over his head, quickly transforming to a strangling panic as he realized Heloise would not have left her sister-in-law’s side. Unless…

“Where is Heloise?” He attempted to keep the fear from his voice, but it was there, coating the words like molasses, thick and clinging.

Isaac’s eyes tightened at the corners, his perpetually smiling mouth a pinched line. Dread snaked under Ethan’s skin.

“Heloise has followed someone to the upper floors.” A footman nearby spoke up in a cultured feminine voice that momentarily shocked him until he recognized Mrs. Euphemia Blount in her disguise.

“Who?” he demanded. “Who did she follow?”

“Copper,” his brother replied, fury threading the word.

“Copper,” Ethan breathed.

Isaac nodded sharply. “Yes, the bastard. I would have gone after them myself, but Miss Marlow was in danger of being trampled.”

Ethan looked to Miss Marlow then, who stared back at him, her expression at once fearful and furious.

“I recognized Mr. Copper’s voice,” she explained tremulously. “Heloise and Mrs. Rumford followed him when the lights went out.”

His heart pounded in his chest, in his ears, in his temples, and his vision went dark at the edges.

She had promised him not to do anything unduly dangerous.

And yet she had willingly walked into a known danger.

But he could not be angry that she had broken that promise.

No, right now he just needed to see her safe.

“How long ago?” he demanded.

“Fifteen minutes at least.”

Fifteen minutes. Much could happen in fifteen minutes, especially with someone as skilled as Copper, who had been raised on the same streets as Ethan, who had been schooled in violence.

He recalled Copper’s face then that fateful night three years before, how he had stood with them as they’d looked down at the missing funds in Gavin’s desk, how he had voiced his outrage along with the rest of them, how he had stood grim and silent at Gavin’s graveside.

And all the while, he had been the one to put him there.

Bitter gall filled his mouth. How could he have done it? He had grown up alongside the rest of them, after all, had been a trusted friend. And he had betrayed them. Worse, he had committed the crimes that had led to Gavin’s death.

And Heloise had followed him.

Fury and fear battled within him as, without giving his brother or the two women another glance, he stormed through the crowd and toward a reckoning that was long overdue.