She glances worriedly at the window. Alice—and her gun—are no longer in view.
“Listen,” she says, drawing Cal closer. “I’ve got an idea.”
Alice trains the gun, along with her gaze, on Ogden’s face.
This is her mistake. The look in his eyes strikes her like a thunderbolt—the rage, the disdain, the primitive drive torage and attack and claim—just like it had in the carriage that day.
That day she nearly shot him. And he very nearly...
Her thumb trembles against the heavy hammer, unable to cock it quickly enough. As the gun slides against her damp palm, her breath coming fast with terror, Ogden crosses the room in two feline strides and snatches the weapon from her hand.
“I’ll talk to you however you like, you whore,” he sneers. “I’m going to hand you over to the police, and they’ll have their fun with you too, no doubt, you and your little criminal friends, but before I do that, I’m going to take from you what you have dangled in front of me for months. What Ideserve.”
He trains the gun on her lazily. Taking his time.
She raises her hands. Inches toward the exit.
“I don’t think so. Get back where you were.” He sniffs, his eyes cold. Utterly empty. “Take off your dress.”
She makes no movement at all.
His face reddens in rage. “Or would you rather I rip it off you?”
He lurches forward when—
“You faithless little strumpet!” A new voice resounds from the vestibule.
The door is flung wide.
It’s Cal, holding roughly on to...Cora?
Alice’s heart leaps, but only for a moment. What is the damned fool doing, barging in here, putting more lives at risk?
Cal shoves Cora forward onto the floor. Cora sniffles and whimpers, trying pathetically to rise in her voluminous skirts.
Ogden, momentarily stunned, backs away from Alice.
“I don’t know what these women have told you,” Cal shouts, his face bright red with anger that Alice can sense is very, very real. “But they’re nothing but two-bit frauds. This one had me out of thousands with some cockamamie story about a pearl farm. I managed to trail her here, but I’ll need some help restraining her until the police arrive. This one too, I suppose.”
Cal nods disdainfully in Alice’s direction. “Is there anything in here we can use to tie them up?”
Alice steps toward Cal. Cal turns and spits on the embassy rug, inches from her slipper.
Nice, if revolting, touch, Alice concedes, her breath still coming fast and short.
Alice glances at the Württemberg flag upon the wall, with its many yards of gilded fringe pooled decoratively beneath it. Then she stares back at Ogden, expression drawn, as if caught.
His eyes narrow in triumph. “Over there. Use the flag.”
As Cal goes to the wall to rip loose the flag, Ogden pockets the gun, content for the moment to have an ally on hand.
And now what?Alice wonders. Cal’s managed to pause Ogden’s attack momentarily, but he still has the weapon, and he’s still eyeing the length of her body as if mentally preparing ever worse punishments for her. Her brother can’t hope to wrestle the gun out from Ogden’s pocket without a shot being fired—
And then she sees Cora, still on the ground—on her knees now, crawling closer and closer to Ogden. Her face is upturned, flushing seductively.
She always told Cora to keep her distance from Ogden. Her protégée has chosen the perfect moment to ignore that advice.
“Please, Mr. Ogden, don’t turn me in,” Cora coos breathily. “I’ll do anything. I’ll help you get your money back, I swear it. I’ll do... anything you ask.”
