She slides down the bench, almost, but not quite out of reach. A light sparks in his eyes like a flint match. A predator enjoying the chase. But ready for the kill.
He pounces. Not genteel, not seductive, nothing now but brutal impatience.
Before she can block him with her arms, his hands have found her underskirts and lifted them high, his mouth shoved hot against her neck as he growls, “You want this as much as I do.”
“Mr. Ogden,” she protests, terror a vise around her neck. “Brett!”
His left hand flies from her skirts to cover her mouth as he scrabbles with the other to shove her drawers aside. Alice feels the fabric begin to rip.
And something within her shifts. Her fear rises into white-hot rage. And then... nothing. Emptiness.
She’s like a magician in a water tank, the trick gone wrong, the lock holding fast, only one option left for escape.
She kisses the hand that’s pinning closed her mouth. He glances up at her in delighted shock, then dives in again, kissing her neck, suckling her ear, all the while desperately positioning himself between her bunched skirts.
Alice feels nothing at all except her unpinned hand as it reaches smoothly into her inner jacket pocket, its fingerswrapping around the grip of her derringer pistol. She closes her eyes, her lips curling into a snarl, and cocks back the hammer.
The carriage stops with a jolt that sends Ogden flying off her, glassy-eyed and wild.
Breath held, Alice keeps her hand and weapon concealed, hearing the sound of approaching footsteps.
A rap rattles the door before it opens.
Alice manages to shove her skirts down, but the look on her face—the bald rage on Ogden’s—must say it all. McAllister’s face goes sheet white for a stunned moment. Then he recovers himself.
“I’m afraid my carriage has thrown a wheel. Lucky you were following after. Bit of a squeeze, but might Miss Ritter ride with you while I see to repairs?”
Ogden blinks hard, his jaw working angrily. “There’s hardly room. I—”
Cora runs over, breathless, her dinner party dress flouncing. “What a misadventure!”
To Ogden, no doubt, Cora appears perfectly oblivious, but Alice can see through the girl’s acting by now, the tightness with which she clutches her skirts.
“As I say, rather too much of a squeeze for me.” Ogden abruptly rises to exit the carriage. He slides past Cora, then offers her a hand inside. “I’ll bid you both good night. A walk in the cold air will do me good.”
Alice stares at him, still incapable of speech, her teeth clamped tight to keep them from chattering.
Before he shuts the door, he seizes at her hand and leans into whisper, “We shall have another chance. Soon.”
She’s unsure whether in his mind it’s the promise of a sworn lover or the threat of someone who knows himself to be a monster.
The door shuts and then the carriage starts away again with a crunch and rumble.
Cora’s facade crumples into concern. “We suspected this wasn’t on the up-and-up. Ward ordered his carriage to be stopped. Please tell me we weren’t too late. What hap—”
“I nearly killed him.” Alice’s voice feels muffled to her own ears. Very distant. She draws out the gun. “I was going to shoot him in the head. Just like this.” She lifts the weapon, demonstrating. “It would have ended it all, right here and now. All our plans, everything I’ve worked so hard for.”
“You were... you were defending yourself.” Cora inches away from the gun barrel. “You—”
“Iwantedto,” Alice says, fixing her eyes intently on Cora’s. “I wanted to see him bleed, watch as life left him. I wanted so badly to murder the man. I think I always have.”
The carriage stops. Alice and Cora sit in sickly silence, listening to the movements of the driver as he hops from his seat and opens the door for them.
Alice erupts from the carriage and starts quickly up the stairs. The moment the house door closes safely behind them, she begins to shake.
“Alice? Alice!” Cora jogs to catch her, resting a tentative hand on her shoulder. “Wait, please! Talk to me. What happened to you?”
Alice flinches away. “I’ll not speak of it.”
