Her head snapped up. “You will not speak those words to me,” she said through white lips.
Oh, now she was putting on airs. “Would you rather your husband say them in open court?”
“He will not, if you would come to dinner on Friday and tell my husband how you discovered the panel.”
I stepped back. “You’d do better to take the wound paste with you, milady. That will explain—”
“Nolan will think only that I used it on myself. You, on the other hand, can attest to my true motives, and how you were the one to discover the panel under the bed.” Tears sparkled in her eyes. “You are my only hope now.”
She really had no idea of how much trouble she was in. “I’m a commoner, milady. As such he’ll believe I was paid by you to lie to him.”
“Have you no one to vouch for your personal integrity?” Before I could answer, her expression brightened. “You are acquainted with Lucien Dredmore, are you not? He has much influence.”
I could imagine what Dredmore would demand in return for such a favor. My body and spirit on a silver platter, at the very least. “The gentleman and I are not the best of friends.”
“If Nolan is granted a divorce on grounds of adultery, do you know what will happen to me?” Her voice was rising to a shriek. “To my family?”
“How would I, milady? I’m just a gel who works for her living,” I reminded her. “One your butler reported to the police as a blackmailer.”
“Mother of mercy.” She closed her eyes and then pulled out her skirts.
Watching her drop to her knees turned my stomach. “Lady Walsh, please, don’t do that.”
“If this is what I am reduced to, so be it.” She bowed her head. “I humbly beg you to take pity on me, Miss Kittredge. I beseech you to come to speak to my husband and save me from the ruin of my life.”
As I looked down at her, I thought of the day I’d left Middleway. I’d never begged anything from the men who had stolen my life. I’d known what they would have done to me if I had.
I took Lady Diana by the arms and pulled her up from her knees. “Betsy.”
The chambermaid darted inside. “Yes, miss?”
“Take your lady home.” I looked into hopeless eyes and managed a smile. “I have much to do if I am to dine with her and Lord Walsh on Friday.”
Lady Walsh threw her arms around me and held me like a beloved sister. “You are the kindest creature in all of Rumsen.”
The kindest, or the daftest. “He’s likely having you watched, so I’ll go out the back. Have Betsy sleep in your chamber until Friday, and then we’ll sort all this out at dinner.”
Betsy cloaked her lady before whisking her away, while I went to the workroom to bid my friend farewell.
“Lady Walsh will be unable to have her fitting today,” I told Bridget, who was undressing behind a screen. “What does one wear to dinner on the Hill?”
“Nothing in your wardrobe.” She handed the emerald ballgown off to Nance and pulled on a simpler dress styled to resemble the gray uniforms her ladies wore, but made of pure silver silk. (Charles had vowed she would never wear anything else.) “Or what you’d find in the collection of a professional lady’s, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Can one rent a dress for two and six?” I wondered out loud.
“From the rag pile at the tin shop, perhaps.” Bridget muttered something rude as she came out from behind the screen. “Louise, has Lady Richmond settled her account with us?”
“No, Madam,” a gel hemming purple taffeta skirts said through a mouthful of pins. “She offered a bracelet in trade, but it proved to be paste.”
Bridget gave me a critical look. “Set aside the blue evening for mademoiselle. She will be back on Friday in time for us to dress her for her dinner with Lord and Lady Walsh.” Before I could protest, she tapped my cheek. “It’s a gift.”
“My birthday isn’t until January, Madam.”
“Christmas, then.” She gave me a steely look, leaned close, and whispered, “Or I can sew your stubborn ass into that emerald satin, if you like.”
I gave in gracefully. “Madam is most generous. Now, can someone direct me to the back door?”
Bridget personally escorted me to the trade entrance, but she didn’t lecture me along the way. She only stopped me at the door. “Charlie’s mother told me that she’d had a mage enchant all his suits to ward off women before he left France. She was afraid of him picking up something nasty from a strumpet.”
I sighed. “You can’t make suits female-proof.”
“Can’t you? He never looked at another woman, that whole trip, until he sat down next to us in the park. No, truly, I asked him. Said he never felt a spot of interest.” She took my hand. “I know how you feel about magic, Kit, but there is something about you. I don’t know what, but I feel it. Everyone does. If you hadn’t been with me that day . . .” She shook her head. “Don’t let the Walshes take advantage. You’re too good for them.” She kissed my cheek. “Now be off with you. I’ll see you here Friday noon, not a minute later.”
As I left the Silken Dream, I thought of Dredmore, and how I might convince him to accompany me to the Walshes. I’d definitely have to lie. Or perhaps hire some muscle to kidnap and drug him.
Suddenly, something flew past my face and burst against a nearby stack of crates. I smothered a shriek as I flattened myself against the brick wall and looked from one end of the alley to the other. “What the bloody hell?”
Two men appeared, both wearing hooded capes, shirts, and trousers of dark red. They marched toward me in unison, one hefting a sparkling glass globe filled with swirling darkness.
My heart wanted to depart my chest, and my knees shook, but I had no time for hysteria. The all-red garments identified the pair to me as a particularly illegal class of magic-wielding scum; they were unlicensed hired killers, known as snuffmages.
I ducked as one threw the second globe at me, covering my head with my arms as I was showered with glass and filth. What they were throwing had to be snuffballs, another magical farce. The globes, I’d heard, were filled with some sort of black dust bespelled to kill anything it touched.
Naturally I was still breathing, and once I shook off the debris, I found the courage to smile at them. “I think your balls are on the blink today, boys,” I said breathlessly. “Got anything else?”
Both men drew long, sharp-edged daggers with rune-carved blades.
“That might work.” I turned, hoisted up my skirts, and ran.
I almost made it to the end of the alley before a clawing hand latched onto my collar. He tried to haul my back against him so he could cut my throat, but I dropped out from under his encircling arm and rammed the top of my head into his groin. That doubled him over in time to protect me from most of the slash of the second one’s blade.
I rolled onto my hands, tucked my head under, and flipped over, which freed my legs from my skirts. One of my slippers went flying as I drove the heel of my foot into the second assassin’s elbow, knocking the blade from his grasp. Then the first one recovered enough to hurl himself on top of me and we both collapsed.
He was too heavy to dislodge, and I was facedown against the paving stones, probably the worst position to defend myself. His hand clamped across my mouth before I could let out a scream, and he used it to pull my head back and expose my throat.
I knew then I was done for, so I closed my eyes and waited for it. Instead of feeling the blade at my neck, I heard a nasty, bone-crunching thump, and the crushing weight slid off me to one side. I crawled out from under his limp arm and leg and staggered to my feet to watch a third man in a black hooded cloak striding out of the alley.