It was Lorraine who lifted her head and asked the question everybody was thinking. “What do you think this is all about?”
Alex stiffened beside Emmaline.
For a second, she thought perhaps he might lie, perhaps he might tell her that he had no clue as to what this was about. Emmaline had no true way of knowing exactly what Lorraine was aware of when it came to her brother’s dealings.
But then Alex looked his sister dead in the eye and admitted, “Lorraine, you know as well as I do that there are a great many things that could have brought this down on us.”
“Can we truly be certain this was meant for us?” Lorraine asked and Emmaline’s own heart broke for her. Deep down, they all knew the truth, no matter how much they wished to bury it.
Emmaline nuzzled closer to Alex. Her stepmother might have scolded her for acting so inappropriately in mixed company but in that moment all she needed was his warmth. So long as his arms were around her, nothing could touch her. At least, that was what her heart believed.
He placed his hand on the back of her head and stroked gently, holding her to him as if he did not give a fig either. Besides, Sean had seen more than his fair share within the club. A hundred people or more had seen her sitting upon the devil’s lap night after night. Cuddling for consolation with her husband before his closest friend and sister was some small sin indeed.
The tension in the room only deepened when the booming sound of the brass knocker on the front door sounded.
Emmaline sat bolt upright. “Who could that be at this hour?”
“I shall see,” Sean offered but Alex shook his head.
No sooner had he done so than the sound of hurried bootsteps rang out on the marble floor outside the door.
Seconds later, the door burst open, and the imposing figure of Alex’s uncle Frederick appeared in the doorway, followed closely behind by his grotesque giant of a man. Emmaline knew not his name only that they called him Tiny. There was simply nothing tiny about him. He made Emmaline feel like an ant about to be crushed at any moment every time he appeared in a room. His cold, seemingly dead stare, chilled her to the bone. It was clear to see why Frederick never left the house without him in his line of work.
“I came as soon as I heard!” Frederick announced, gesturing his man to wait in the corner of the room as he hurried to seat himself in an armchair near the others.
“News gets around fast,” Sean scoffed, his distaste for the man quite obvious. Frederick offered the man a grim scowl before he turned back to his nephew.
“We must speak privately, nephew.”
Emmaline bit her tongue, fighting the urge to request that Alex remain by her side. The shivering shock in her body had only just begun to subside and she feared its return if he left her.
A different kind of shock coursed through Emmaline when Alex didn’t so much as blink as he said, “Whatever you must speak about, speak it here, uncle.”
Never had she heard him speak so authoritatively before his uncle. Never had he insisted that she be party to his meetings with the man who made her blood run cold after all of the terrible stories she had heard of him. Though they were few and far between, she suspected there were far worse stories still hiding beneath the surface of this family’s blanket.
Whatever he had to talk about, Emmaline wasn’t sure she wanted to hear it but if it meant Alex’s staying beside her, then she would brave it.
Wishing to support her husband, she sat tall beside him and slipped her hand into his, turning to meet Frederick’s gaze just as he did.
“I fear this is not for the ears of ladies,” Frederick said, glancing between Emmaline and Lorraine. “The faint of heart should not be party to this.”
“Uncle, I—” Lorraine began, as if she meant to assure him she was not so weak as to be shooed like a schoolgirl to her room, but Alex rose to his feet, still holding onto Emmaline’s hand.
“I can assure you, Frederick, the women in this family are not faint of heart,” he said, his voice little more than a growl. “Speak your piece.”
Frederick did not look at all pleased by the latest development but with a grunt, he gestured Tiny forward.
“I received this not two minutes before your messenger arrived,” Frederick announced as Tiny stepped forward and produced a letter from his jacket pocket. Emmaline tried her hardest not to cower as the man came close but everything about him, even his stench, turned her stomach.
Alex stared at his uncle a moment longer before he took the letter Tiny offered him. Emmaline could not feel any relief as the man stepped away again for somehow, she felt the weight of that letter as if it was a cannonball thrown at them.
Alex unfolded the letter and began to read, pausing only when Frederick instructed, “If you insist on their knowing everything you ought to read it aloud, dear nephew.”
Though his words hinted at some kind of twisted affection, there was nothing affectionate about his tone. In fact, it seemed to drip poison. Perhaps it was simply he was so used to all this violence and frightening people that he failed any longer to turn it off as Alex did. Or perhaps it was something else, Emmaline couldn’t be certain.
Alex’s face grew pale as he cleared his throat and started to read, “Devil Lord, the time is nye for you to reap all you have sown. If you do not meet our demands, the Tillington’s ballroom shall not be the only thing that burns. Your friends, your family, your wife, all shall burn with you.”
Emmaline suspected that there was far more to the letter, but Alex choked then, his hands shaking visibility as he pinched the paper just a little harder than before.
