Chapter One
“Well, well. If it isn’t the Countess of Kerrington, all alone.” The burlier man cocked his head. “Perfect, lads, no?”
Four men had flooded into the hallway of Kerrington House, dressed in all black, the bottoms of their faces covered with silk cloths. Only their narrowed eyes were visible, and all five pairs were fixed on Sibyl Lynden, formerly Sibyl Dennis, standing alone in the corridor.
Sibyl’s heart lurched, her feet guiding her a pace back. Behind her, the railing of the staircase hit her back, and she reached behind her to grasp it.
It was no weapon—not that she would know what to do with one—but it grounded her.
He glanced behind at his companions, and Sibyl’s eyes swept them all, trying to remember details—rememberthem.
Remember that the one on the far right has brown eyes, but the one next to him has blue eyes—I can’t see anything else notable. I must remember details and—and—and?—
Her breath came fast, recalling how she had once needed to report to the authorities about a lord who had assaulted her in a garden maze several years ago.
Her fists clenched harder around the railing, recalling the dank office, the questions, thesurely you can recall more about Lord Grenford and his assault, Lady Sibyl? It would help us apprehend him quicker.The endless pressure, the grief, the distress—all of it balled into one, awful weight in her chest.
Now, she forced herself to remember these men as best as she could, pushing herself through her terror.
“L-Leave,” she ordered, trying to put more steel into her voice the way she had heard her siblings do. But she was not her siblings, and even though years had passed since she had been dubbed thedelicate Wickleby flower,she had never quite learned how to assert her authority. “Leave now!”
Her feeble orders fell on deaf ears, only earning her a wave of laughter from the men.
She took another step back, only to realize it gave them more space to push further into the entrance hall and the corridor where she hovered.
Do not come closer,she begged inwardly.Please, please do not enter?—
But they did enter fully, closing the door behind them, and Sibyl felt her heart beat in her throat.
“We will not be leaving, Lady Kerrington,” the first man drawled, cocking his head. When he smiled at her, she saw only menace and threat.
The brass railing dug into her palm, not quite grounding anymore.
“My name is Mr. Gilroy Vance, and my men and I are from the Gilded Key. We will not be leaving until we get the information we want.”
The Gilded Key.
Why was the name so familiar?
She tried to distract herself from her fear by racking her brain for why she recognized it—and then it hit.
A gaming hell in London, known for its cheating-handed players, men who bet more than they could afford, and nightly fights that ran amok because the guards were more likely to join in than stop them.
Mr. Vance smirked. “You recognize my establishment.”
“I am a lady,” she insisted. “Of course I do not.”
“Every lady has a darker side to her. Hidden away. Shown only to her husband, perhaps…” His eyes flashed.
Sibyl’s eyes flitted around the hall, noting how each man looked around as if already assessing her home. The hem of a maid’s skirt disappeared around a corner to her right, skittering away.
She could only hope the maid would send for the constables.
However, she could already hear hurried footsteps coming from the corridor that led to the kitchen. She had dismissed her butler when she retired to the parlor, and now she hoped he had followed that order, that he wouldn’t put himself in danger.
One of the other men stepped forward. “Lord Kerrington,” he began. “Where is he?”
“My husband?” Sibyl frowned, shaking her head.
