Tangled Webs (29 page)

She looked over her shoulder, then took several hesitant steps out of the cell.

“I warned you, gypsy.” Nic stood in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest.

What the hell was he doing there? Had he come to gloat? Rage filled her, fast and fierce, and she yanked free of the guard with a primal growl. Her fists hit his chest, but it was like striking
a stone wall. Nic grabbed her hands and held them with just one of his. He leaned down very close to whisper in her ear.

“What the bloody hell were you thinking, going back to the party? Huntington couldn’t wait to tell Wild what you wanted.”

“I needed something on Wild. Raffer is blackmailing someone I care about, and I have to help them,” she sobbed. “You have to help me, Nic.”

“You should have listened to me, gypsy. There’s only so much I can do to protect you now. The next time I say run, you
run
,” he hissed low in her ear before spinning her
around and shoving her back at the guard. Instead of catching her, the man stepped back and Arista sprawled onto the cold stone floor. A sharp pain shot through her knee.

“I see you’ve met my new right-hand man,” Wild said, stepping from the shadows. “Ah, sorry, you two know each other already—don’t you.” Wild crossed to
where she lay and reached down, wrapping his fingers around her neck. There was no sign of mercy in his eyes. He lifted her to her feet. “Did you really think you could double-cross
me?” he growled. Arista dug at his fingers, but could not loosen his grip.

“Please.” Her voice came out raspy and faint. She could barely breathe. When she kicked out at his leg, he only laughed.

Blackness crept into her vision, and she struggled against his hold. She could see Nic standing by the door, watching but not moving, not helping her. There was no emotion on his face at all.
Tears burned her eyes. He would never have let anyone touch her before.

“You’re a monster,” she spat at him.

He finally looked away.

“Time’s up,” the jailer barked as he came back down the hallway. “You’ll not rob anyone of a good hanging.” He yanked Wild away. As soon as she was free,
Arista gulped in a huge lungful of air, almost making herself ill.

Wild straightened, brushing imaginary dust off his shoulder. “It was a pleasure doing business with you, my dear. I’ll be in the front row at your hanging come dawn. You’ve
made me quite popular, now that I’ve caught such an infamous blackmailer. I should thank you.” He bowed to her, an elaborate mocking gesture that made her feel even sicker. Then he
turned and walked away.

Nic watched her for a few seconds longer, then turned and followed Wild out the door.

She screamed and lunged after him, reaching for her missing knife out of habit. The jailer grabbed her around the waist before she made it more than a few steps. Wild’s contemptuous
laughter echoed down the hall. Arista screamed again. The inhuman sound echoed off the stones.

She kicked and twisted and pounded her fists against the thick man’s arms, but he only walked over and dumped her back into the cell. She lay where she fell and curled into a tight ball.
Her shoulders shook as she tried to hold in the sobs that built inside.
Nic.
Nic had betrayed her for Wild. Agony clawed its way up her throat and choked off her air.

“I’m sorry,” a small voice whispered.

There was a soft touch on her shoulder and Arista looked up into the eyes of the young girl from the corner. In her expression, Arista saw the truth.

She was going to die.

Hours later, the keys jingled again and Arista scooted backward until she came up sharply against the stone wall. What now? Had Wild decided to come back and torture her even more?

Two of the quieter girls in the back of the cell detached from the shadows and sauntered forward. They were both rough-looking, but one had cuts along her arm that looked like they needed a
doctor’s attention.

“What do we have tonight?” the older one asked the jailer.

“There’s a new one with some coins wanting a little female company.”

The girls nudged each other and the jailor laughed as they walked out of the cell. “Here’s your extra bread. You can eat it while we walk. He’s a mite impatient. For the rest
of you lot—” he said to the room, and threw several smaller loaves onto the middle of the floor.

The door slammed shut and the other women dove at the bread, pushing and biting to get to it. Arista watched with distaste. Bones used to do things like that when they were children. He said it
helped them develop a fighting edge. Arista refused to fight for her food. She would
never
use her body, either.

“I got you a piece. It ain’t much, but we don’t get much.” The young girl handed her a piece of bread the size of her thumb.

Arista shook her head. “You eat it. I’m not hungry.” The thin girl shoved it into her mouth without argument. Neither mentioned the truth that hung in the air between them.
Arista would hang very soon. No use wasting bread on the dead.

“So, why are you here? I like the colors in your skirt—is it yours? I’m Grace, by the way.” The girl smiled rather shyly. “It’s okay, I don’t mean to
pry.”

“I didn’t steal it, it’s mine. They think I killed someone, but I didn’t.” Grace’s eyes went round and she moved away just a bit. “I promise I
didn’t,” Arista said. The girl’s nervousness made her uncomfortable, and she tried to put the girl at ease. “Why are you here, Grace?” she asked.

“My father owed a debt he couldn’t pay. He gave me in exchange.” Her gaze lowered to the floor.

A knot formed in Arista’s stomach. “How long have you been here?”

“Two days.” She raised her head and tears glistened in her eyes. “I thought he would come back for me by now.”

It was a surprise that Grace had been here that long and had not been harmed—or worse, been led out of the cell to service the inmates who could barter or pay for female companionship. It
wouldn’t be much longer before that happened, though. The girl was too pretty to go untouched if no one came to claim her.

There wasn’t anything she could do to help her. Arista looked around. How many of the women were here because of something frivolous? How many here were innocent?

In the cell, the women sat in groups of two or three. Some played games with bits of stone and straw, others chatted quietly. The one Arista had knocked out earlier lay on the ground, unmoving.
They sat in silence, groans echoing in the stone walls all around them. One might go crazy from listening to that for too long.

The sudden sound of keys turning in the lock caught Arista’s attention. All the women stopped what they were doing and looked up.

“You—come with me.” The man pointed at Arista.

She stayed where she was. Grace gripped her arm tight with both her hands. “Why? I won’t whore myself out for a piece of bread.”

The jailer growled and stepped into the cell. “You’re needed for other purposes. It’s time to go. Now, I can drag you, or you can walk—it don’t much matter to me,
girl.”

She glanced at Grace, who stood trembling with fear. While the girl watched with wide eyes, Arista reached under the collar of her dress and pulled the silk scarf free. The one she wore always
for strength.

“It’s okay,” Arista whispered, even though it wasn’t. She wrapped the scarf around the girl’s shoulders and tied it under her chin. “Don’t give up.
There is a big world out there, just waiting for you. Someone very special gave this to me and now I’m giving it to you.”

Tears fell down Grace’s cheeks. “Thank you, miss.”

Arista fought back her own tears. This had all happened much faster than she’d expected. Was it dawn already? Arista lifted her chin and glared at their jailer.

“I can walk on my own.”

The guard muttered something and slammed the door shut behind her. He started down a different hallway than Wild had exited from.

Arista’s throat tightened as she followed the jailer. The hallway grew darker, and the lantern the guard held threw little light. Arista used the wall to steady her balance, and cringed at
the slimy feel of the stone. The air in the tunnel grew chillier, and still they walked on. The moans and screams faded behind them, and the stale air took on an earthier quality.

“Where are we going?” she asked his back, but the man only grunted. “Am I to be hanged before dawn? With no say to my own innocence? That is not justice.”

She might as well have been speaking to the stone walls for all the reaction she got from him. Finally he stopped and pulled the keys from his belt. The door opened soundlessly, and the jailer
lifted the lantern high over his head. “Go.” His one-word command propelled her forward, but she came up short outside the prison.

A hooded figure stepped from the shadows and handed the man a bag of coins. The jailer grabbed it and slammed the door closed behind her.

“Come quickly,” the figure said. “They are not the most trustworthy sort.”

Arista looked back. Whoever this was, they were saving her from Newgate, but for what? Had Wild concocted an even worse punishment for her? “Who are you?”

“You will see in a moment, miss, but we have to hurry.” The figure started across the yard. After a moment’s hesitation, she followed. Wherever he was leading her, it was away
from the prison.

A carriage awaited on the next corner, and when the hooded figure rapped twice on the door, it swung open. She slowed to a stop. Had Wild bought her freedom, just so he could kill her himself?
Or did he plan to torture her first? She prepared herself to run.

“Where is she?” a familiar voice asked. The figure pointed at her and then lifted the hood from his head. Tomas.

And there, leaning from the carriage window, was Grae.

A
rista sat in the cabin of Grae’s ship, fighting the rolling in her stomach that was not caused by the ship, but by the cold fury in
Grae’s eyes. She sat on his bed, arms wrapped around her middle. For twenty minutes, she’d been trying not to spill the contents of her stomach onto the polished wood floor. They had
sat in silence for so long that she was ready to crawl out of her own skin. It didn’t help that Grae had not stopped pacing back and forth in the small cabin since they’d arrived.

“How did you find me?” she finally asked.

He dragged his fingers through his hair and sat down next to her on the bunk.

“My mother sent for me when she found Father in his study. He was…not in a good place, but he told me what had happened. I went to your room but you were gone. I found the note you
left your maid, and when I confronted her, she begged me to find you. Said that something went wrong. It wasn’t until a note came to the house, addressed to Becky, that we knew where you
were.” He glanced at her face but didn’t look her in the eye. “I couldn’t leave you there. But that doesn’t mean I can forgive you.”

His words felt like a dagger in her heart. “I promise, Grae—I didn’t know, not until tonight. I tried to fix everything…but nothing’s changed. Everything is still
so messed up. I’m so sorry.” She dropped her face into her hands.

“So you didn’t know my father would be asked to transport human cargo?” His voice was raw with emotion.

“No! I promise I didn’t know what Wild planned to do.” It was time to tell him the truth. “I knew your father owed Wild a debt, because otherwise I would never have been
admitted to your home. I was supposed to go out, collect money and secrets like I did before, only this time, Wild promised me half the cut. That was my ticket to freedom. I’ve never had the
chance to earn enough money to get Becky and myself away from London. I accepted his offer because I had nowhere else to go. I didn’t know his plans, or that Lord Raffer planned to blackmail
your father. He used me as well. If I had known…”

Wild had made sure that she remained in the dark about her role in the extortion plan. Every move he made had been calculated—from reeling Nic in, to saving her life, to setting her up in
the Sinclair household. He’d played the game with the precision of a chess master.

Arista had paid with her freedom, and Grae’s family was still under Wild’s thumb.

“It was all for nothing. I’m so sorry.” Her shoulders shook and tears dripped out from between her fingers.

“What were you trying to do tonight?” he asked.

“I was offering to give someone control over their own secret, in return for a Parliamentary investigation of Raffer. To bring his activities to light and discredit him so he
couldn’t make accusations against your father.”

Grae sighed. He sounded so tired. “So, now what?”

“I failed. I couldn’t save your family.” She might as well go back to Newgate. She was as much a prisoner now as she had been then.

“There has to be something we can do. Is there anyone else you can contact?” His warm hand rested on her shoulder, and that tiny bit of comfort gave her the clarity she needed.
Arista stopped and lifted her head.

“The note that said I was in Newgate—do you have it?”

Grae released her hand and reached into his pocket. The note was a crumpled-up ball of paper now. Arista pried it from his fingers and smoothed it open. She only had to glance at the writing to
know who’d sent it. Nic.