Page 96 of A Treacherous Trade
Betrayal.I didn’t believe in Nola’s cards, but… perhaps this would satisfy her nonetheless.Iwasn’t the one betrayed by someone close to me. But Beatrice had just been betrayed by a girl she’d done so much to protect. She loved those who worked for her, I thought, and that fit nicely into the macabre reading.
“The police are coming, you say?” Beatrice asked, her eyes becoming blearier by the minute. “I’m not dressed to receive them.” She fluffed at her hair, which had begun to escape its chignon.
Amelia finished her tea in two gulps and stood, abandoning it to the side table. “Let me help you, Bea,” she offered, helping her friend to stand by the elbow. “We’ll pick you out something respectable.
“Not too respectable,” Beatrice said. “If your handsome brother will be stopping in.” She laughed along with us at her attempt at levity, but each of us sounded hollow.
“Thank you, Amelia, you’re such a help.” She leaned heavily on Amelia’s arm. “I was feeling rather weak and overwrought today, which is not customary for me. That tea has seemed to help.”
“I gave something to Butler to add to it,” Amelia boasted. “It helps with lung congestion and vitality.”
I looked down into my cup, having only taken two sips.
Bea smiled over at her. “Oh, IthoughtI tasted something different.”
So did I.
I couldn’t say exactly what made me wary of the brew, but I put the cup down.
Bea turned at the doorway, swaying a little at the motion. “I almost forgot. Another letter came for you, Fiona, dear. Like last time. It’s on my desk. I was going to send for you today, but it seems you came to me. You might want to read it and decide what to do before the police get here.”
My heart dove from its cage into my churning stomach.
Another Ripper letter. Now?
“I’ll be right up, then,” I said, my head swimming with an entirely new set of concerns, the pace of my breaths elevated so much that I had to lean on the desk once I’d reached it to make certain I was stable.
Amelia sent me a quizzical look. “Post for you was addressed here?” she asked. “Should we stay? Is it something you’ll need to share?”
“No, do go on, I’ll be along.” I shook my head and instantly regretted it as an ache bloomed behind my eyes. I suddenly wanted so intensely to be alone.
Alone with the Ripper.
When I looked up again from the unstamped seal, I realized I was.
Unlike the other letters, this one was sealed at the edges by some sort of paper epoxy. I was afraid to unfold it without it tearing.
I eased open the middle desk drawer and found nothing of use but some pens, stationery, some envelopes, and a few odds and ends. Next, I reached to the right drawer, looking for a letter opener, one I might even keep with me until this sudden and intense sense of unease around Amelia Croft abated.
“You didn’t finish your tea.”
Not Amelia’s voice.
Just then, the cold glint of a blade caught my eye. A knife.
Myknife.
The one I’d left in the shoulder of the man who’d been hired to scare me away from the case. From The Orchard.
From the truth.
What was it doing in Beatrice Chamberlain’s desk drawer?
I grabbed for it, my fingers stiff and clumsy as they found the cold press of the lacquered handle.
When I whirled for the door, it took an astonishing amount of time for the rest of the room to catch up. I was going to be sick if the floor beneath me didn’t stop swaying like a ship in a storm.
Her face came into focus.
