tone that brought Lila back to the present. “You think they shouldn’t have something so extravagant.” Sylvia stared sadly at the empty hearth. “It was Norman’s favorite event that they hosted.”
“Do you . . . wish to go?” Lila asked, holding her breath, dreading the answer.
Tears filled Sylvia’s eyes, and she angled her head toward the hearth. “I don’t know.” When she looked back once more, the moisture had gone, and all that remained was the perpetually sad glimmer within their blue depths. “I mean, I shouldn’t. It would be wrong to attend . . .” She paused and looked to Lila once more. “Wouldn’t it?”
Her stomach lurched. Oh, God . . . Her sister wanted her to join those wild festivities.
Scratch-Scratch-Scratch.
They both looked to the doorway.
“You said to come whenever the little master awoke, my lady,” the young nursemaid said, coming forward with Sylvia’s babe.
Sylvia was already out of her seat. “There you are, my love,” she greeted her son. She stretched her arms out and scooped the plump child from the girl’s hands. Her sister cooed, and the little boy answered with a giggle. “Ma-Ma-Ma.”
As the maid dipped a curtsy and left, Lila stared on, a silent observer to mother and babe. And from the distance came memories of another mother and another child.
“Please, take her. Take her with you . . . Take my chiiild . . .”
“Lila?” Sylvia’s hesitant query cut through that terror.
I’m here. I’m in London . . . Not safe. But here. That litany rolled around her mind; it stabilized her heart until the organ beat a normal cadence. “I’ll do it,” Lila blurted before her courage deserted her.
Sylvia didn’t so much as blink.
“I’ll join you at the marchioness’s masquerade,” Lila confirmed.
Her sister clutched a fist to her chest. “I . . . I . . . am so very happy.”
One of them was.
And as Lila sat there, watching as Sylvia and Vallen played, there was only one certainty . . . Lila had let Annalee down by not being strong enough to save either of them. She’d not fail anyone else. She needed to be strong and prepared, not just for herself but for all those she loved.
Hugh Savage had been insistent that he’d not help her. With Sylvia’s impending plans for them, however, Lila had no intention of accepting anything but his capitulation.
Chapter 6
“Ya were weak with Dooley.”
That morn, as he went about cleaning the arena, Hugh knew better than to rise to Maynard’s baiting. “I didn’t see much reason to add a beating to him. Killing him before we get the information you seek isn’t going to get you anything more than another dead body.”
“Us.”
Hugh glanced up from the benches he was wiping down.
Maynard settled a hard, narrow-eyed stare on him. “Don’t you mean ‘us’?”
“Aye. Us . . .” Because that was the truth. After he’d returned from war, hungry and begging for coin, they’d rescued him. That was a debt that could be paid only after he helped where he could to bring the rest to justice . . . and in that, hopefully atone in even a small way for Valerie’s disappearance.
“We’re afraid yar gettin’ rusty,” Maynard said, stretching his left arm across his chest.
“Losing yar edge,” Bragger chimed in from across the room.
Their words . . . their discourse in harmony, even with the pair standing at the opposite ends of the arena, couldn’t be a coincidence.
Warning bells jingled.
“I train daily,” Hugh said carefully.
Bragger and Maynard exchanged looks.
Folding his arms at his chest, Bragger spoke. “Training ain’t the same as actual fighting . . .” That booming echo pinged around the empty hall.
His partners converged, both stalking over until they flanked Hugh.
“Bragger ain’t wrong. Ya ain’t ’ad a turn in the ring, Savage. In . . . ’ow long’s it been?”
“Two weeks, now?” Maynard provided when Hugh didn’t respond.
“Three,” Hugh murmured. It’d been three weeks since he’d been asked to step into the ring and beat another man into oblivion. A twenty-one-day reprieve. For that’s all it ultimately was . . . a reprieve. This one had been longer than the others, and he’d managed to convince himself that maybe he was done. That they’d stop thrusting him into the ring and absolve him of his debt at last.
“Hmph,” Bragger said, noncommittal. “That’s a long time to not step into a ring. Join me, Savage.” Those three words would never be misconstrued as anything other than the order they were.
Aye, because that’s what he did . .