“If I told you, I would have to kill you.”
Devlin’s light words did not sound entirely in jest.
Wei’s gaze did not waver. “You are welcome to try.”
“Enough, gentlemen.” Irritation sharpened Lady Fayne’s tone. “There will be no cockfighting in my study. Devlin, I will remind you that you are currently on a probationary trial. You will act upon my orders and my orders alone. Any missteps, any attempts to ‘take over’, and this trial will be over before it began.”
Devlin looked at Lady Fayne, and admiration—the first genuine emotion Wei had seen from the cove—flickered in his gaze.
“Understood,” he murmured.
“As for you.” The lady transferred her steely regard to Wei. “Do not mistake my patience for compliance. I do not countenance others telling me what to do, especially when it pertains to my Angels. As one shifu to another,” she said smartly, “I am sure you understand.”
Leave it be. You cannot change the direction of the tides.
“Don’t worry your head over it, old sport,” Devlin drawled. “Lady Glory will be in excellent hands Friday night.”
The thought of the bastard’s hands anywhere near Glory ignited a fire in Wei’s belly. Nearly as much as the idea of her going on another mission this Friday—one that would, undoubtedly, take her into the Fancy’s territory. Lady Fayne’s shuttered expression told him that trying to find out the details would be futile.
She leaves me with no choice. If she will not protect Glory, then I will…be it from a gang or a bloody rake.
“Then I will take my leave.” Wei issued a curt bow. “Good afternoon to you both.”
He left the study, a plan taking shape in his head.
Nine
“First time, dearie?” the buxom brunette serving maid asked.
Seeing the kindness in the other’s gaze, Glory gave a rueful nod. “Is it that obvious?”
“You do look a bit nervy. Probably on account o’ the rumors you’ve ’eard about the Fancy’s parties, eh?” The maid gave Glory a sisterly pat. “This’ll be my sixth or seventh go-around, and I lived to tell the tale. Name’s Pru, by the by.”
“I’m Nellie,” Glory said.
Through her contacts, Charlie had learned of the Fancy’s monthly ball. Held at the gang’s flash house in Whitechapel, the event was a show of the Fancy’s power, with other gangs invited to join the festivities. Charlie had secured employment for Glory as a serving maid.
“I know you do not need to be told to be careful.” Charlie had pursed her lips. “Nonetheless, the Fancy’s masquerades are notorious for violence and vice. Blood can flow as freely as ale, and from what I gather, their newest leader, Wulfric Scott, is as ruthless as they come. Your job is to observe only; at the first sign of trouble, you and Devlin will leave immediately.”
Glory currently sported a wig of straw-blonde curls and a thick layer of face paint. Her serving maid uniform consisted of a stained white blouse and black skirt layered with tattered petticoats, discreet padding giving her the appearance of curves.
At present, she was in the cavernous kitchens. The cook barked orders, the makeshift staff swarming like a disorganized hive. Thumping footsteps and boisterous voices from above signaled that the party had officially begun.
“There ain’t nofing to worry about if you keep your wits about you.” Loading a tray with pork pies, Pru dispensed wisdom in a manner that befitted her name. “The fellas can get rowdy once the drink starts flowing, so stay in the public rooms and stick close to the other serving maids. Avoid the top floor—those chambers are reserved for the ranking members o’ the Fancy, and from what I’ve ’eard, anyfing goes up there. Unless you’re looking to earn a bit o’ extra on the side—”
“I ain’t serving nofing but refreshments,” Glory said quickly.
“Wouldn’t judge you any which way.” Pru shrugged. “Meself, I don’t mind giving ’em a feel or two. It lets off some o’ that manly steam and keeps the tips coming.”
“Thanks, um, for the advice.”
“My pleasure, dearie. We serving wenches ’ave to stick together—”
“What are you ’ens clucking about?” The cook marched up to them. “Ain’t paying you to wag your tongues. Get the food up to the buffet table and be quick about it!”
Winking, Pru shoved the loaded tray at Glory. “Good luck, Nellie.”
With a nod of thanks, Glory scurried up the creaking steps. The sprawling main floor had been split into several areas to accommodate eating, dancing, and gambling. Alcoves along the room’s perimeter were shaded by dressing screens, providing some convenient “privacy.” A stone fireplace pumped out a smoky haze that gathered in the vaulted ceiling.
