by Lee Bross
But would he if he knew who she was?
He did not know Lady A or her nefarious reputation yet. He did not fear or loathe her on sight. This was cruel. As if some bigger power was dangling a beautiful silver key just over her head, promising freedom from her tarnished cage, if she only dared to reach for it. But Arista knew what would happen if she did: retribution, swift and deadly. Bones would find out, and he would do worse than kill her.
“Please, tell me your name.” His voice sounded hoarse and it cracked with emotion. He already knew she would run from him again.
Arista choked on the reply. She wanted to tell him, but how could she? She was nobody. She had no past, no future. Nothing to offer anyone. She had no right to ask him to risk anything to help her escape.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
He moved as if to reach for her. Arista turned and ran blindly into an opening between the tall hedges. He shouted behind her, and her street instincts kicked in. She ran down a short path to where the maze broke off into two directions. She didn’t think, just chose one and then another as the path split again and again.
The maze grew darker as she made her way deeper into it. There were only a few lanterns placed sparingly, with just enough light to illuminate a specific pathway. Probably the one leading the way out. Arista chose the opposite way and the trail soon opened into a round garden. A single lantern sat atop a stone column. Most likely, she was at the center of the maze. She listened behind her, searched for signs of pursuit, but heard nothing louder than the whisper of her own skirt.
Only then, when she was finally alone, did she exhale. She stood, gasping for air. All the carefully constructed walls that allowed her to live, to exist in this godforsaken life, started to crumble. Twice now, she’d run from her very own glimpse of freedom.
It had been years since she’d really believed her life could change. Hope had given way to despair. No one would save her. No one cared about her at all.
Damn that highwayman to hell. Damn his touch that lit a spark of hope inside her again. She didn’t want to feel anything. Numbness was safe. It was the only thing that got her through the horror of each day. Arista sank onto a stone bench and clenched her hands together in her lap.
Forget him. Forget tonight.
“A nice evening for a stroll, is it not?” Arista bolted upright. She had not heard anyone approach. The shadowy figure of a man stood next to an ivory-colored statue. The red tip of a cheroot cigar glowed in the low light. Not the highwayman. There had been no smell of tobacco on him either time they’d met.
Arista was entirely too rattled and exposed to have any further conversations tonight. Bones be damned. Lady A could not properly do her job in this state.
“Pardon me for interrupting. I’ll leave you to yourself,” Arista said. She started to back away, when the man stepped into a small pool of light. He wore a simple lion’s mask over his eyes.
“Please, stay—if you don’t mind, Lady A.” She could not move, even as he stepped closer. Arista sensed nothing hostile or dangerous in his movements. No telltale signs that he meant to hurt her. Still, she could feel the authority surrounding him, even when he stood at a distance. A man clearly used to getting his way. And he knew who she was. He held all the advantage.
“I don’t care much for social niceties when getting to the point works so much better, don’t you agree?” He waved his cheroot in the air as he spoke. “Now, why don’t you have a seat and we can talk business?” Arista looked around, but realized that the hedge maze had been designed for a single purpose: to hide anyone inside. She lowered her hand to her side, where she could feel the knife’s handle. If he thought to harm her in any way, she would fight to the end.
“I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage, sir. You seem to know me, but I don’t know you.” He was not a former client, because Arista would have remembered dealing with someone like him before. He must be the person she’d been sent to meet tonight. It was the only logical explanation, but still it was little comfort.
“We have a mutual friend,” he said, as if that explained everything.
So he was the client. Usually, the people she met with were nervous or angry, but this man seemed overconfident. He looked quite relaxed, in fact, for someone about to barter away a secret. The sweet fragrance of roses and gardenias filled her lungs.
Arista had no patience for games tonight. “Payment is required first. Along with the information you wish to trade.” She held out her hand and waited. “And I’ll take your contact information, to set up the second meeting, should your secret be of value.”
He studied her intently for several long seconds before straightening to his full height. When he stepped closer, Arista saw how he towered over her. He was taller than Nic, even. His shoulders were broad, as if he were accustomed to hard work, yet his perfectly tailored clothing spoke of money. She fought the urge to take a step back. That would only show weakness. There were no sounds from the party this deep into the garden.
“I’ve not come to make a deal with your boss. I’m much more interested in dealing directly with you, Lady A.” He was crazy. Or Bones had set her up, was testing her.
She started to move past him, but he grabbed her arm. Arista stiffened and fought the urge to reach for her knife. Nic would have had the man backed up against the wall for even touching her. Where the hell was he tonight?
“Get your bloody hands off me or I’ll stab you in the gut.” Her words came out short and harsh between her clenched teeth. Her breathing grew ragged and she took a quick breath in through her nose to try and quiet the unease.
“I don’t doubt you would.” The man chuckled, but his grip relaxed enough that she slipped free. “Pardon me for forgetting my manners, but I’ve been watching you, Lady A, and I think we can help each other.”
“That is what I do. You give me your darkest secret and in return, I provide you with what you need.” Having set up this meeting with Bones, he must surely know how it worked.
“Yet you are burdened with all the risk and reap none of the reward. Your services should be valued at a higher price.” His face remained calm and he tilted his head to the side, studying her. “It must be a horrible life, ma petite. Always doing the bidding of others. You yourself are in danger, and for what? Are you being compensated, or does he take it all and force you to live in squalor?”
Arista’s breath caught in her throat. How did this man know so much about her, about her life under Bones’s control? She stared at him, her chest rising and falling with her quick breaths.
His hand moved suddenly, and she spun away from him in a flash. She had her knife in hand by the time she faced him again. The man only laughed, obviously happy with something. Slowly this time, he pulled his hand out of his jacket and held it palm up. Empty. She frowned. He had meant to reach for something, she’d been positive about that. She’d seen the intention in his eyes.
“Fascinating. You’re as good as he said you were. There is, indeed, a pistol in my jacket, but I assure you, I had no real desire to use it on one so pretty.” His smile turned almost charming and it softened his face. His gaze moved down over her bodice appreciatively, until the sharp tip of the blade under his chin forced his head back up. Amusement danced in his eyes again. He smiled at her as if they were friends. As if he were not afraid of her at all.
“I would like to offer you what that wretched excuse for a human being cannot. Lady A,” he said, bowing in front of her, “I would like to offer you your freedom.”
The familiar fear started again, and despite how hard she tried to push it back down, it would not budge. This had to be a test. Why would anyone, especially this stranger, want to save her?
“I’m afraid that you’re not in a position to extend such an offer, sir. I don’t have the time for false promises or games.” Arista needed to get away. From this man, from this party—from all of it. Her ruse as Lady A had a certain structure to it. It was familiar. A part she could play w
ith no real effort.
But tonight, Grae had thrown her off balance, and before she could recover, this man was now offering her freedom.
“How about a promise from someone that holds a much dearer place in your life? One whom you trust? One who, perhaps, has mentioned a way out recently?” he said quietly. “I assure you that I am not playing games at all. I am simply giving you the chance to live the life you dream of.”
Time stopped. The space around them shrank to the very spot where they stood. Arista could find no hint of treachery in his intentions, and that fanned the flames of fear dancing inside her. He’d echoed the words Nic had whispered in the darkness last night, and she couldn’t ignore him any longer. There was a connection. She needed to know what it was. “Who are you?”
“I am but a humble thief taker.” Though he bowed his head, the square set of his shoulders told her differently. Nothing about him spoke of humility. His pride came through loud and clear. He could only be one man. Her blood ran cold.
Even in the Hells, London’s darkest places where people existed almost as animals, this man’s reputation was notorious. He lived with the power of the law on his side. The Thief Taker General protected the interests of the richest in society, tasked by the Crown with tracking down their stolen property.
Yet those in the Hells whispered rumors that he was also the one perpetrating the crimes against the rich themselves. Stealing. Embezzling. Smuggling. For a price, a high price, he would “find” those responsible and claim the reward. Among thieves it was well known that if you did not work for the Thief Taker, you were against him. And his enemies were dealt with in the harshest manner possible. They became the accused, and paid for the crimes they did not commit.
This man before her could make someone disappear behind the walls of Newgate Prison, never to be seen or heard from again. He could exact deadly judgment on any who might betray him, under the guise of justice.
Nic said Bones was worried about the Thief Taker. It appeared that his paranoia held merit. Jonathan Wild, the Thief Taker General, did know who Bones was. And he also knew what his most lucrative possession was. Lady A.
“I see by your expression you’ve figured it all out now?” Wild smiled at her. It almost looked…pleasant. Pride shone from his eyes. “We are very similar, you know. You and me. We both take from those who have too much—but while you pass along the spoils of your labor to someone undeserving, I keep mine. I am a very wealthy man, and you, my dear, could become a very wealthy woman. We are both notorious in our own way, and if we combine our…talents…the sky could be the limit. I am willing to split the profits of our joint venture fifty-fifty. You could have anything. Everything.”
An uneasy feeling crossed over her skin. This could still be a setup. “Did Bones send you here?”
His lip curled in contempt. His reaction to her boss’s name showed no love lost between them. She and he had one thing in common, at least.
The only man in London who terrified Bones stood before her with an offer of freedom. It seemed too good to be true. Wild dared to go against Bones and he could win—but did she have the courage to take what he offered?
“I know what happens to people who don’t agree with you,” Arista said, keeping her voice low and even. “If I say no to you now, you’ll simply set me up—I’ll be accused of a crime I didn’t commit, and then I will disappear. Isn’t that how it works?” Arista crossed her arms over her chest to hide the way her hands were shaking. She did want out. But badly enough to actually contemplate Wild’s offer?
“Normally, you’d be right.” His honesty surprised her. She thought he would have denied it to try and convince her to join him. “But I have too much respect for you to extort your services. If you join me, it must be as a willing associate. You could remain where you are, but we both know that when your usefulness is over, Bones won’t hesitate to sell a pretty thing like you to the brothels. Is that where you want to end up? Because if it is, I can offer you a position right this moment in one of mine.” Arista glared at him. “I didn’t think so,” Wild said.
“Why should I believe you? How do I know you won’t just lock me in a different prison to use me as you see fit and keep all the money to yourself? You could dispose of me better than Bones ever could.”
“You don’t know, I suppose. But I am a man of my word, and I have made my offer. It is up to you, now, to decide the direction of your future. To choose your own fate: servitude or freedom. I am only offering you the means to obtain it if you wish.” Wild bowed elegantly, then reached out and took her hand. He pressed his lips against her glove, like any well-bred gentleman would. “It has been a pleasure and an honor to talk with you this evening, my dear. I do hope that we will have the chance to work together soon. As equals. Remember that. I assure you that you can trust me in this.”
Arista took a step back and cradled her hand against her chest. Too many emotions battled inside her head. How many nights had she wished for someone to appear and give her a way out? But did she dare to trust someone like Wild? It would be like trusting the devil himself.
“You of all people should know, sir, that there is no such thing as trust among thieves.”
Wild laughed once more. “I like your honesty, Lady A. I daresay I like it a lot.”
“Has Nic come back yet?” Arista burst through the door as soon as Becky opened it. A whoosh of musty air swept over Arista, so different from the exotic, clean smells of the ball. Blood still buzzed through her veins. She had to ask Nic about Wild. She had to know if what he said was true.
“No, miss. Though there’s been a racket fit to wake the devil on the other side of the wall since about the time you left. I’ve had to tear out three rows of stitches on a new costume because of the commotion.” The lamplight illuminated the frown on Becky’s face before the maid turned and hurried down the hall. She had not lied about the ruckus. Voices boomed through the thin walls and something heavy thudded against the boards. Arista cringed when the distinct tone of Bones’s voice could be heard over all the rest.
“You find him and bring him back here. That sorry bastard will regret the day he double-crossed me. I’ve got someone else to question, but you three go, now.”
Doors slammed and the din quieted, which made the footsteps coming toward the second door that much louder. Only Nic used that door to gain access to the main part of the house. No one else ever came through from that side. From the inside.
The person stopped just on the other side of the door. The rattling of keys was followed by the unmistakable sound of a lock being turned. Even through the wood, Arista could sense the murderous intentions of Bones, and the urge to flee flooded her body. “Go.” Arista nudged Becky toward their room. The girl fumbled with the doorknob, and kept looking over her shoulder. Arista groaned with frustration. Her hand fell to her side and rested on the hard knife handle under her skirt.
The inside door swung open and Arista made out the shadowy outline of Bones standing there. An involuntary shudder raced over her. Her dealings with Bones were infrequent in nature, with Nic the usual liaison between them. That suited Arista fine. This, though, wasn’t just his terrifying temper; it was something more, something darker. He approached, and her skin crawled.
“Miss?” Becky held the lamp up to her face and gestured hurriedly for Arista to come inside the room. She could run, but it would do no good. Others had tried to run away. They’d been made examples of.
Though she doubted Bones would harm her physically, there were other ways he could get to her, and he knew them well. Arista straightened her shoulders and shook her head. “No. You go. Close the door quickly, and lock it. Do not come out until I tell you to. Here he comes.”
Becky didn’t move. Her gaze flicked to the door, and the color left her face.
“Becky! Leave me.” Arista hated being short with her friend, but it was imperative that she was safely behind the door before Bones got to them. Becky made a terrified sound deep in h
er throat, and the light disappeared. Arista heard the click of the door latch falling into place, and exhaled.
When she was young, Arista would close her eyes and pretend that in the darkness, she could become invisible. A useless trick; Bones always found her. Tonight, Arista kept her eyes open and stared directly at Bones. His pupils were dilated and his lips were a tight, thin line.
“Girl, did you have anything to do with this?” Bones’s raspy voice grated across her skin, leaving goose bumps in its wake. He waved a leather pouch in her face, but she’d never seen it before. She had no idea what it held.
“I don’t…” Arista steeled herself. It was always the same when faced with her guardian, if he could even be called that. Slave master, maybe? He owned her as if she were a piece of paste jewelry, and could reduce her to a small, scared child with a single glare.
Who could she be tonight, right now? Not that scared child. Someone else.
Arista called on her alter ego, and Lady A straightened her back. “I don’t know what you mean.” Her voice regained its cultivated tone, with no evident trace of street dialect.
She saw his fist too late. Pain exploded along the side of her jaw and she crumpled back against the wall. He never hit her in the face because of her value as Lady A. Something had happened to change her worth.
“Don’t you dare use that uppity voice on me, girl. I made you, and I can unmake you just as quickly.”
Arista held her jaw and pushed herself up to stand. She would not lie at his feet like a dog. He could beat her senseless, but she would not cower. Not anymore.
“That boy o’ yours. Where is he?” Cold, steely fingers wrapped around her wrist. Bones was much stronger than he looked.
“Nic?”
“Ni-ic,” he mimicked. His lips turned up in a snarl. “You got more than one boy, then? Whorin’ yourself behind my back, girl?”
“No!” Heat flooded her face.
Bones dug his fingers into her wrist until she thought she would hear a snap. His snarling face was inches from hers. His breath reeked of garlic and tooth rot. “Where is he?”
