“You all right?” someone asked.
“Old boy has lost his touch...”
Laughter…were they laughing at him? He frowned, trying to think.
Not supposed to look weak. Have to stay strong—about to bring down Fong at last…
“Just need some air,” he managed.
He staggered from the billiards room. In the hallway, the walls seemed to curve around him, and he found himself laughing at the absurdity of the situation. Of him being foxed from two drams of whisky. He couldn’t remember spirits making him feel this way before. So free of care, the world bathed in a rosy glow. It was almost like how he felt when he was with Livy…
…or when I had that first hit of opium.
The realization jolted him. Gave him enough presence of mind to lurch over to the lavatory. Inside, he went to the looking glass, gripping the edges of the water basin.
Darkened pupils. Flushed cheeks. The rush of euphoria.
Holy hell...I’ve been drugged.
At that moment, his legs gave out, and he was sucked into a terrifying quicksand of exultant torpor. The harder he tried to fight it, the more ensnared he became. Time floated, he floated, suspended in a fuzzy kaleidoscope of color and shapes. Something slapped his cheek. His awareness sharpened on an object in front of his face.
A glittering pendulum of gold mesh swung from a chain. The peacock feathers swirling around the globe stirred a distant memory. Behind it, a masked face blurred in and out of his vision, accompanied by a muffled voice.
“Do you remember this vinaigrette? I gave its twin to Arabella. You left her no choice but to seek the freedom within when you locked her up. It was your fault that she took the drug during her pregnancy and died…
“Do you like your first taste of the Devil’s Bliss? You always thought you were better than the rest of us, but now you’ll see who truly holds the power. By the by, Arabella’s babe was mine. And now you shall pay for taking them both away…”
The voice grew distant, and Ben couldn’t fight the darkness any longer. As he succumbed to the airless depths, his last thought was of Livy.
Forgive me, little queen. I love you…
35
“Where do you think they are headed?” Livy said, peering ahead anxiously.
She was on the driver’s perch with Hawker, who kept his good eye trained on the unmarked carriage several lengths ahead.
“’Ard to tell,” he said. “We’ll keep on ’em.”
While Charlie had stayed at the villain’s lair to look for the cache of Devil’s Bliss—without which they had no evidence—she had sent Hawker along with the Angels to find Ben. The group had arrived at Bollinger’s townhouse in time to see two burly footmen load Ben into a carriage and take off at a rapid clip. Even from a distance, Ben had looked unstable, as if he was heavily foxed...or drugged. Any fleeting hope Livy had that the servants were merely delivering Ben to his residence vanished when the vehicle continued south past Piccadilly, turning east at St. James’s Park.
Now Hawker was following the other carriage through the streets sandwiched between the Strand and the Thames. Several conveyances separated them, and the view was obscured by the thick layer of fog rising off the river. Angling to keep an eye on Ben’s carriage, Livy tapped her foot in a restless rhythm.
Where are they taking Ben?she thought frantically.What is their plan?
“Bleeding ’ell,” Hawker bit out.
He swerved to avoid a produce wagon that had emerged from a side street and straight into their path. Livy grabbed onto the side of the perch, holding on for dear life as the carriage tilted, skidding on the edge of its wheels. The horses neighed in fright, but Hawker managed to keep the carriage upright through the hail of cabbages and carrots. They came to a juddering stop.
“Everyone all right?” Hawker barked.
From the cabin, Glory and Fi called out, “We’re fine!”
Heart pounding, Livy strained to see ahead. “We’ve lost the other carriage. We have to find it!”
Hawker picked up the reins, and they sped off. Livy’s stomach sank as she saw no sign of the vehicle carrying Hadleigh. It could have gone down any of the small dark lanes branching off the arterial route.
Glory poked her head out of the carriage window. She’d taken off her cap and wig, her hair streaming in the wind. “Do you see the carriage?”
