Tangled Webs (24 page)

“Why?” Something didn’t feel right. Anyone dealing with Lady A had no need to see her face to conduct business. Not unless they had ulterior motives.

“He simply wishes to see the face of the woman he does business with. As I said, your safety is my utmost concern.” His bored tone told her more than his words did. Her safety did
not interest him at all.

“No. If what you said is true, if this is a real partnership, then I have a say in how things work, correct? Or is this where you reveal your true colors, and I find you are no better than
Bones?” It was a bold move, calling him out on the promise that he’d made her at Lady Carstair’s party. He would either prove to be a liar and demand she do as he bid her, or he
would relent.

Wild leaned out the window. She did not miss the steely glint in his eyes. “This is a very
lucrative
offer. You could have the money you need to go to India after only a few
meetings. Isn’t that your goal?”

The ground beneath her feet shifted, and Arista stumbled. How did he know about that? She had only ever talked about it with Becky and Nic. And Grae.
In public—several times now.
The air left her lungs in a soft whoosh.

He chuckled, a dark sound that made her cringe. “I have ears everywhere, Lady A. London belongs to me, and I know everything that goes on in it. It really would be foolish to pass up this
opportunity. If we both get what we want, we can conclude our partnership.”

The tiny tic in the corner of his mouth gave away his lie. He had no intention of letting her go. But she had no intention of staying. It was only a matter of time before one of them would
betray the other.

Play along. Let him think he has you.

She gave an exaggerated sigh. “How much is he offering?”

“More than the rest put together.” His smile told her everything. He thought he’d won already. She would need to fit in as many meetings as she could before Grae’s ship
left, in order to collect enough money to put this life behind her.

She was to meet Wild’s new client in a week. It was scarcely enough time to enact her plan, but it had to work. “It’s not as though I have any other choice, do I?” she
said.

“Oh, there are always choices, my dear,” he answered pleasantly. “But I trust you will make the wise one. I will send instructions for the meeting’s place and
time.” Arista jumped back as the carriage sprang forward and disappeared into the night.

She would begin sending notes tomorrow, and by the time Wild sent for her to meet with this mystery person, she would be on a ship heading far away from London.

T
he very next morning, Arista sent out a dozen notes, the addressees carefully chosen based on their ability to pay quickly—only familiar
names, those she knew were well off. Time could not be wasted with those who did not have the means to meet her offer quickly.

Those others would receive their letters after she set sail. There would be no demand for money, only their secrets returned, free and clear. Yes, she could make demands of all of
them—threaten to expose their secrets—but then she would be no better than Bones or Wild.

She was not like them. She would not cause fear and pain for profit. Not anymore.

They may have set their own blackmail in motion by contacting Bones in the first place, but desperation caused a good many people to make bad choices. People like Grae’s father, who years
later was still being manipulated. No, she would end everything before she left. And if they chose to move back into that world, well, she couldn’t be the one to help them.

Grae had meetings with suppliers most of the day, preparing for his upcoming trip, so she didn’t have to worry about him showing up unexpectedly as she snuck out. She didn’t want to
have to lie to him anymore.

By midday she had already heard back from six people who wanted to meet immediately; all promised her the sum she requested. Three hundred pounds each. The amount would be a pittance to those
who could afford to pay so much more than she demanded for their secrets.

Four others wanted to meet her tomorrow morning. That left only two she had not yet heard back from. They were to meet her on Fleet Street at staggered times. An hour was all she needed. She had
no desire to dally, and neither would these people.

At noon, she tucked the six chosen packets into her pocket and told Becky only that she had a job to do. Her friend knew better than to ask questions. Arista snuck out through the garden exit.
The midday sun sat high in the sky, and she was sweating in her black mourning dress within minutes. Every so often she stopped to make sure that no one was following.

The veil over her face held in the heat, and sweat beaded on her skin as she walked to the next street over. From there she hailed a hackney cab. It was even hotter inside the carriage, yet she
didn’t dare open the shade covering the window, or even lift the veil farther than her nose. In the light of day, even with her disguise, discretion was of the utmost importance. No one could
know what she was doing. Especially not Wild.

When they reached their destination, a busy but discreet intersection, Arista held her breath until she heard the impatient knock. The door opened, and a man climbed in and sat across from her.
The space inside the carriage seemed to shrink.

“Do you have it?” he asked.

Arista nodded and pulled out the packet of secrets that belonged to him. It was one of the thicker ones, as Lord Sommersville had used Bones’s services more than once.

He reached into his jacket and removed a bag of coins. “Three hundred pounds, as agreed.” They made the exchange and Sommersville did not bother with niceties. He exited the carriage
before she had even tucked the money away.

The other five transactions were almost exactly the same. No one wanted to spend a second longer in her company than necessary, and in less than an hour, she was on her way back to Talbot
Street. When she returned, Sophia insisted they spend the day together, and Arista didn’t mind the shopping at all. Spending time with Sophia, learning how a normal girl spent her days, was
quite nice. In fact, Arista had a rather good time when she was with Sophia. And if Grae had found out anything about Louis, he had not mentioned it to her; by the way Sophia’s disposition
never wavered, Arista doubted Grae had said anything to her either.

Days like today gave Arista hope that a better future was within reach.

The next day, the remaining four exchanges went as smoothly as the first half dozen. By the time she returned to the Sinclairs’ and tucked the collected money into the small chest she had
bought, a weight was gone from her shoulders. She only had to arrange passage on Grae’s ship, and everything would be ready.

Except she had not seen Grae to ask him.

Sophia said he and her father were trying to woo a new client and that they were terribly busy, but there was a mischievous sparkle in Sophia’s eyes that didn’t quite fit with her
explanation.

When they returned home from their second afternoon of shopping, Sophia followed Arista to her room. The girl was practically bouncing off of the walls, and Arista knew that something was going
on. She didn’t have to wait long to find out.

There on her bed lay a beautiful light blue gown. It was much fancier than any day dress Arista owned now, and she could only stare at it in wonder.

Sophia clapped her hands together. “Do you like it? It was one of mine, but you are smaller than me, so Becky spent two days altering it to fit you. I do so hope it fits, because the color
will be exquisite with the shade of your skin.” Sophia lifted the dress off the bed and held it up in front of Arista. “I knew it,” she beamed.

“It’s very beautiful, but I don’t understand. I have no need of a dress this fine.” Still, she could not resist reaching out to run her fingers along the silky material.
Tiny beads had been sewn along the neckline in the pattern of flowers. The dress was truly fit for a queen.

Sophia giggled. “You can’t go to the opera in a day dress, silly.”

“Opera? We’re going to the opera?” She had been to the theater once, when Nic paid one pence apiece so they could stand in the back and watch
Romeo and Juliet
. It had
been crowded and sweaty, and she had barely glimpsed the actors who spoke such beautiful words with all the other people standing in front of her.

And still, it had been one of the best nights of her life.

But the opera?

Those productions only happened at King’s Theatre, where the wealthy liked to go. She never dreamed she might see the inside of such a place, let alone watch an actual performance
there.

“Grae will go mad when he sees you in this dress,” Sophia gushed. “And I have just the combs to wear with it.”

“Grae is going, too?” Would Sophia and Robert and Marguerite also join them?

“Grae is taking
you
to the opera, dear Ana. He enlisted my help in getting everything that you would need ready. He’ll be here at seven to pick you up.”

“You’re not coming?” Arista asked, still in shock. The opera. With Grae. Just the two of them together?

“I don’t think my brother would appreciate my presence tonight.” Sophia grinned. “Come. We’ll have tea, and then I’ll send for a bath and Becky will help you
get ready.” Sophia carefully set the dress back on the bed and Arista followed her blindly to the parlor. It was as though she were walking through a dream.

They would be alone tonight in a crowd of hundreds. She would be exposed and vulnerable, at Grae’s side, dressed only as herself. Well, herself in an exquisite gown.

She wanted to take Grae’s breath away tonight, and she had a feeling that Sophia would not let her down. Arista smiled, feeling giddy.

“For what it’s worth,” Sophia said, taking her hand, “I think that you and Grae are perfect together. I’ve never seen him happier on land.”

A
rista sat in the parlor, nervously twisting her gloved fingers together. The dress flared out from her hips, accentuating her small waist, which
both Becky and Sophia had exclaimed over. Lace lined her décolletage, but the dress still showed off more flesh than any of her other dresses. Sophia assured her that it was the current
style, and that it was actually modest compared to most others.

Her new friend had given her stockings with garters, and beautiful shoes in the same delicate blue color. Becky had fashioned a wrap from a darker blue material that Sophia said Grae had given
her after his last trip. There were intricate designs embroidered into the silk, creating a stunning pattern of birds and flowers. Her hair had been pulled away from her face and held in place with
a jeweled comb, again borrowed from Sophia at her insistence. Everything had come together, and Arista felt like a princess.

Sophia sat across from her, eyes shining with excitement. Becky kept darting forward to fiddle with a flyaway strand of hair, or smooth out a wrinkle on the silk that didn’t exist.

“You’re both making me very nervous,” Arista said, toying with the fan that was tied around one wrist.

Preparing for an evening of Lady A was nothing like this.

“Grae!” Sophia shouted.

Arista turned slowly and her gaze met Grae’s. He wore black trousers with black stockings. His shoes gleamed in the candlelight. The charcoal-grey vest fit him perfectly, and over it he
wore a jacket of the same color with buttons running down each side of the lapel. Snow-white cuffs peeked out from each sleeve.

He had not powdered his hair, nor worn a wig as fashionable men did. His black hair fell over one eye, giving him that rakish highwayman look she had first fallen for. He took her breath
away.

Though Sophia had gone over to him, Grae had not taken his eyes off Arista. She stood slowly, suddenly feeling unsure. Was it too much? Not enough?

“Isn’t she beautiful, Grae?” Sophia asked slyly.

“Indeed.” His voice seemed lower, hoarser than she remembered, and it sent thrills of excitement over her skin. He was practically glowing with happiness and unabashed appreciation.
He moved into the room and took her hand, raising it to his lips to kiss the back of her glove.