Page 6 of A Lady Most Wayward
‘Why?’
Olivia choked out a laugh, though nothing about this was funny. Her one chance of escaping England was gone. Because of this woman. Someone fighting for justice and truth. Someone Olivia both admired and hated in equal measure.
And someone I desire most fervently.
She blinked, forcing the inconvenient truth into the same dark pit where her honour and kindness struggled to survive.
‘Because the cost is too dear.’
The door closest to Philippa opened. An older man in a long nightgown and sleeping hat burst into the room, a candle in one hand and fire poker in the other.
Several things happened at once.
Startled by the man’s sudden appearance, Olivia swung the gun toward him, pulled the trigger, and learned it was loaded.
Plaster exploded in a cloud of white as a bullet lodged in the wall – thankfully well above the gentleman’s head.
The portly man in the nightgown dropped to the floor in what must have been a dead faint.
Philippa spun toward him and screamed, ‘Stokes!’
Olivia turned and leapt out of the window, landing hard on the grassy lawn below. She didn’t turn to see if Philippa followed her. She ran.
* * *
Philippa sipped her whiskey-laced tea and tried to listen to the conversation swirling around her. It was early afternoon, but the day had already been long. After determining her butler had only succumbed to shock and not a bullet, she spent the remainder of the early morning getting Stokes back to his bed, ringing for a doctor to check on her curmudgeonly patient, and organising the repair of her ballroom wall. Olivia had left quite a mark. With those tasks complete, she sent invitations to the Queen’s Deadly Damsels. It was time to make a war plan.
‘I can’t believe she almost shot poor Stokes. Although, you’ve been threatening to do that for years, Philippa. Perhaps she meant to do you a favour.’ Millie Drake sat on the settee opposite Philippa. Her wild, red curls were swept into a high knot with tendrils left to frame her freckled cheeks.
‘Millie! That isn’t funny. The poor man could have been seriously injured.’ Ivy Worthington, pale and lean in a sapphire dress that complemented her crystal eyes, slapped Millie’s arm. She and Millie had been friends since childhood and often interacted like sisters, though they could not look more opposite. Millie’s figure was lush where Ivy’s was lithe. Millie’s bright-copper curls and rosy complexion reminded one of a warm summer afternoon while Ivy’s blonde hair and pearl complexion inspired thoughts of a winter moon rising over snowy fields.
‘She makes a point, though.’ Hannah Killian stood next to the fireplace. She had one hand in her pocket and the other held a glass of whiskey. ‘Philippa has been threatening to use Stokes as target practice since long before I moved into her house.’ Hannah was the illegitimate child of Lord Winterbourne. Upon her mother’s murder, Hannah had nowhere to turn except for Philippa. The duchess extended an invitation for the fourteen-year-old girl to live with her and trained Hannah as her first protégée. It was a highly unusual arrangement most women would never allow, but Philippa was not most women. She was grateful to Hannah’s mother for diverting her husband’s attention away from Philippa. As far as she was concerned, she owed her husband’s mistress a great debt, so when Hannah arrived on her doorstep covered in blood and needing sanctuary, Philippa didn’t hesitate to offer what protection she could.
Hannah became Philippa’s first Deadly Damsel, and while the duchess had never particularly longed for children, Hannah made her appreciate the benefits of progeny. She wasn’t Philippa’s daughter by blood, but the duchess loved Hannah with a fierceness every mother felt for their child. It was something she rarely admitted, even to herself.
Of course, her affection for Hannah didn’t stop the young woman from nettling Philippa.
‘Perhaps Olivia was trying to offer you a bribe. Stokes’ life in return for the jewels you stole.’
‘Her idea of bribes is just as horrific as her idea of friendship.’ Philippa looked meaningfully at Ivy. A crimson blush stained the young woman’s throat and cheeks in splotches.
‘I know you never trusted her, but Olivia was kind to me.’ Ivy picked up a sugared tart and nibbled the edge.
‘She lied to you, kidnapped two orphans, and would have watched her husband shoot you like a dog in the street. If that is kindness, I would much prefer cruelty.’ Philippa’s voice shook with barely controlled rage. Despite her best efforts to remain aloof, the women she trained had all captured a piece of her heart. The very idea of one of them being harmed filled Philippa with fear she could not tolerate. She did what she always did when faced with a vulnerable emotion and transformed it into anger.
Ivy returned the tart to her small plate and carefully licked sugar from her finger. ‘We are missing something. I don’t think Olivia would willingly align herself with these men. You didn’t see her expression that night. She was torn. Haunted by her choice. The Devil’s Sons must have some kind of leverage over her.’
‘Have you spoken with her brother? Mayhap he has some information we could use to find her.’ Penny frowned into her lap, fiddling aimlessly with a button on her skirt. Philippa respected the maid-turned-marchioness. She had proven herself to be smart, resourceful, and loyal. Once Millicent’s lady’s maid, Penny took a position in Lord William Renquist’s house in an undercover attempt to capture an evil lord. But it was Liam who captured Penny’s heart when she realised he was secretly working with the Queen to dismantle the Devil’s Sons. Their love story sparked quite the scandal as a maid took on the mantle of marchioness, but no one was more deserving of such good fortune as Penny.
‘The Lord High Chancellor came to me the week after Percival Smithwick was arrested.’ Philippa remembered the meeting well. The usually reserved man, second only to the Queen in power and influence within the realm, was nearly beside himself with worry for his niece. ‘His biggest concern was finding Olivia’s daughter. While he expressed deep grief over his sister’s choices, he has given her up as lost and is only focused on Hyacinth’s safety. If we find Olivia, she will face the hangman’s noose, and if we don’t, she will live the rest of her life as a fugitive. But Hyacinth could have a proper life. The young girl is only sixteen. This summer was meant to be her debut into society. He fears Olivia has taken the girl against her will and is holding her somewhere.’
Ivy shook her head. ‘Olivia would never do anything to harm her daughter. She spoke often of trying to repair their relationship.’
‘Did she speak often of her loyalty to you? Because she certainly lied about that.’ Philippa failed to keep the poison from her tone.
‘Not everything she said was a falsehood. She may have been deceiving me about our friendship, but she wasn’t lying about her daughter. I’m sure of it.’ Ivy spoke with quiet conviction.
Philippa raised a brow, pressing her lips together to keep insults about Olivia from spilling forth.
