real warden.”
The real warden.
She shivered. As in… the Beast of Newgate. The former warden who, by the tales written of him, had with his ruthlessness inspired terror in all.
And yet, this stranger’s words gave her pause. He referred to Mr. Wylie as “the real warden” and in that telling word choice alone, revealed his loyalty to the imprisoned former warden.
Intrigue drew Faye deeper into the shadows. She had questions for the man lurking there. “Do you know Mr. Wylie?”
“Better than anyone,” that graveled, rough voice returned. “Ye mean ’im ’arm.” The stranger stepped forward, and this time, she couldn’t stifle the gasp. His face marred by pocks and his rheumy eyes showing an advanced age, the man, nearly two feet taller and fifteen stone broader than her, was a veritable monster.
Only… the tension ebbed from her frame, and Faye drifted closer to the man. Pausing a pace away so she might not have to crane quite so mightily, she angled her neck back farther and farther until she held his gaze.
His harsh, ugly smile revealed ground-down, yellow teeth.
Faye cocked her head, continuing to study him. Alas, size… was just size. Her mother was an inch shorter than an already diminutive-in-height Faye and had proven herself to be capable of an ugliness not possessed by Satan himself. “No,” she said softly. “I don’t bear any ill-will toward Mr. Wylie.” In fact, she didn’t even know him. All he was, was stories in newspapers. Gossip about his sins. In that way, she and Mr. Wylie were not very dissimilar. Not very dissimilar at all.
The old man eyed her warily for a long moment and then stole a glance about. “Ye better not,” he whispered, and this time there was such menace contained within that not-at-all veiled warning, she shivered. When he returned his focus to her, he lowered his voice another shade. “Bears pointin’ out for the new warden that as long as Mr. Wylie’s ’ere, this place ain’t going to be ’is.”
With that, the old man vanished into the inky darkness of the hall. His words lingered after he left.
Bears pointin’ out for the new warden that as long as Mr. Wylie’s ’ere, this place ain’t going to be ’is.
She’d gone back and forth two times before with Mr. Hinton, even offering him all the funds to her name if he would release the jailed former warden to her care. He’d resisted at every instance. But, it appeared, she’d simply been offering him the wrong bribe. “Of course,” she breathed.
Given what she’d learned of her late father’s role in the kidnapping of the real Earl of Maxwell, she should have realized immediately what it came down to. What it always came down to. Power. The most important currency a man traded in and collected.
More footfalls approached. This time, several sets, all in a mismatched, discordant beat, like an army that couldn’t find the proper formation.
Faye squinted into the distance, the lit sconces barely illuminating the corridor beyond three large, murky shadows moving rapidly toward her.
“She’s back,” one of the guards flanking Mr. Hinton was saying.
The other man at his side handed over papers, which the warden promptly attended. “I’ve already told Mrs. X I’ve no time to indulge her or her curiosity.” He didn’t so much as glance up from his notes.
“I’m not here to see you,” Faye said softly the moment he reached her.
The warden jumped, and the papers went flying out of his hands, raining down in a flutter of white around him.
“God, she’s terrifying as hell,” the other guard beside him muttered, making the sign of the cross. He moved closer to his superior.
Yes, she’d come to have that effect… on everyone. Following the discovery of her parents’ involvement in the sinister plot to kill a young lord, all in their quest for power and wealth, the world had come to view Faye as… an oddity.
Mr. Hinton glared at her. “Mrs. X, I told you…”
“I will not be deterred. I will speak with you,” she said. Setting her hands on her hips, she positioned herself in the middle of the hall.
The guard reached for her arm, but Faye angled her head, and even around her deep hood, she managed to fix her focus on his arm.
The young man swallowed loudly and hastily backed away.
Mr. Hinton, warden of this place, lifted a hand.
“My office,” he said tersely.
One of his minions opened the door, and more than half fearing that Hinton would change his mind and turn her away, she