Page 25 of A Lady Most Wayward
‘No. It’s whiskey. It will fortify your nerves.’
Olivia took a small sip, swallowed, and sucked in a harsh breath. ‘Or knock me out cold,’ she wheezed before taking a second nip. ‘No wonder you’ve nerves of steel.’
‘I’m sorry. Was that a compliment?’ Philippa couldn’t stop the spark of humour from flashing in her eyes.
Olivia turned away from Philippa, carefully screwing the cap back on the flask. ‘What should we do about them?’ She nodded at the coachman.
With the men outweighing both women by at least ten stone each, there wasn’t much they could do. Olivia wrestled the coachman out of his jacket, carefully placing it over his face to preserve a modicum of dignity. Philippa did the same for the highwayman, being careful to search his pockets for any clues before draping his much filthier coat over the upper half of his body.
‘What’s this?’ Philippa found a purse of gold coins in one pocket. In the other was a folded note. The wax seal on the note had broken, and only half remained.
The body of a wolf. The tail of a snake.
‘Damnation.’ She didn’t need to see the rest of the seal to know the identity of the sender. The Devil’s Sons used a unique seal incorporating the body of a wolf, the tail of a snake, and the head of a crow. The same animals symbolised their leaders. Only now, the Crow was all that remained of the triad. Opening the missive, she scanned the instructions written with a neat hand. ‘How well do you ride, Olivia?’
Olivia looked up from where she knelt next to the coachman.
Was she saying a prayer over the man?
Tears shone in her eyes as she sniffed, then turned to look at the horse. Her throat contracted, distracting Philippa. She had pressed her mouth just there, and licked the hollow, tasting the salt and spice of Olivia. More intoxicating than the strongest dram of whiskey.
Hardly the time! But…
‘Percival never wanted me to ride. He said he worried about my safety, but I think it was the expense that frightened him. Or the independence.’
‘Well, you’re going to learn to ride today. We must make haste.’ Philippa walked over to Olivia and extended her hand, helping her to rise. She handed her the note. ‘These were not highwaymen. They were hired to find us. And if he knows where we are heading, then he likely knows where Hyacinth is hiding.’
Olivia’s eyes widened as her gaze flew over the damning words.
Find the women on the Devon road south to Cornwall. Kill them, then go to Charlestown Port and collect the girl. You’ll receive your final payment on delivery.
The Crow
‘No, no, no! He can’t possibly! How can he know she’s there?’ Olivia looked up to Philippa, her pupils blown wide with fear, her face pale. ‘We must leave. Now. We have to get there first. We must.’ A tear tracked down her face, streaking over the dried cut just below her cheekbone. Philippa’s heart squeezed tighter.
Without thought, she pulled Olivia into a tight hug, holding her trembling body against hers. ‘We will. I swear it.’
What the bloody hell is wrong with me? She’s my enemy. I am sworn to hold her accountable for her crimes. Not hold her in my arms to promise all will be well.
But something about Olivia’s desperation awakened Philippa’s need to protect. It was a response as instinctual as breathing. Something she had never been allowed to do for Liza.
Liza. Dear God, what am I doing?
The memory hit her hard and unbidden. The week after Edward told his father of Philippa’s affair with Liza, she had snuck out of her house, determined to see her love. To convince her to do the impossible and endure whatever trials lay ahead so they could find their forever.
Philippa had climbed the rose trellis outside Liza’s room. It was a journey she had made countless times from when she was eleven until now, at twenty. First as girls to giggle over silly confidences, then as women to protect far more serious secrets.
Liza was at her writing desk. Her hair tumbled around her. Face puffy and red from crying. She had been beautiful even as she raged.
‘I will not marry! I don’t care what Father threatens to do. I would rather rot in an asylum than be forced to suffer a moment in the arms of the viscount. He’s nearly as old as Father.’
‘Then let us run away together. I have saved my pin money. We can leave tonight and start somewhere new. Where no one knows us.’ Philippa was desperate. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she lurched across the room and sank down on her knees in front of Liza. She gripped her pale hands and squeezed, willing her stubborn love to listen for once.
‘And how do you propose we live with no money? No connections? No men to provide for us? No protection.’
‘I will protect us. I will teach myself how to keep us safe, darling.’
‘It’s impossible, Phil.’
