A chill spread in Ethan’s gut. “Did you see where she was headed? How long ago was this?”
“Ten minutes, at most.” Owen shrugged again. “I can show you where she went.”
ChapterThirty-Three
When Owen showed Ethan the path that Xenia had taken, it was obvious that she was headed to Chuddums. But what business did she have in the village at this time of night? Why did she pretend to be tired, then sneak out? Possible reasons for her deception crowded his head…the most obvious one being that she was playing him false.
The way Constance had.
Rage swelled, fed by an undertow of humiliation. He was certain that he wasn’t going to like what he discovered this eve. Yet he had to know. He readied Legato and was surprised when Owen saddled a horse as well.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked.
“Going with you,” Owen said. “You’re not riding alone this time of night.”
As Ethan didn’t have time to argue, he simply spurred Legato on. Owen followed, and they didn’t encounter Xenia on the path to the village. Ethan suspected they were only a few minutes behind her since they made the journey to Chuddums at breakneck speed, and she was on foot. Upon arriving on High Street, he saw that he was correct: a familiar cloaked figure was at the end of the street, taking a turn east toward the docks.
“That’s her,” Owen said. “We can catch up?—”
“No,” Ethan said grimly. “I don’t want her to know that I’m here. I want to see what she is up to. We’ll stay close but out of her sight.”
Owen raised his brows but said nothing.
They left the horses at the Briarbush Inn on the corner, then continued after Xenia on foot. She had widened her lead on them, but he tracked her easily enough. They reached the docklands, which were teeming with riffraff and the light-skirts who serviced them. Taverns, brothels, and gaming hells flanked the street, business spilling into the dark alleyways between the buildings. Guttural sounds came from the shadows, mingling with cheers of merriment and shouts of aggression.
Ethan’s gut tightened when he spotted a cluster of brutes sporting orange-striped neckcloths. At least a dozen Corrigans stood in front of a dilapidated waterfront building, which looked to be their headquarters. He noted that Xenia steered clear of them, and he did the same, keeping the brim of his hat pulled low. Luckily, the ruffians were too inebriated to notice.
He and Owen followed Xenia another block, where she paused in front of a tall, narrow edifice. The windows were drawn, but the licentious glow emitted by their scarlet curtains advertised the nature of the trade. And if that didn’t make the purpose of the place obvious, then the pair of whores at the entryway did. Their faces were masked, their skimpy dresses leaving little to the imagination.
Ethan’s nape chilled when Xenia exchanged brief words with the pair. One of the prostitutes handed her a mask, and she slipped it on. Then she went inside.
Owen asked the obvious question. “What business does your housekeeper have in a brothel?”
“I am about to find out,” Ethan said tersely. “Wait for me here.”
“And let you have all the fun?” Owen replied. “I think not.”
“I don’t have time for your nonsense?—”
“No one is sicker of my nonsense than me. You can count on me, Ethan. For what that is worth.”
Seeing Owen’s resolute expression, Ethan went against his better judgment. “Fine,” he muttered. “But don’t get in the way.”
“Unless you need me, you won’t even know I’m there,” Owen promised.
The whores struck provocative poses as they approached.
“Welcome to the Nunnery, gents.” The one with brassy curls held out a pair of masks. “You’re in for a treat this eve. Sister Sirena, the Salacious Storyteller, will be taking confessions.”
The realization came as swiftly as a blade in the back, making Ethan stagger. All the similarities he had ignored, the signs he’d obstinately refused to see. Her voice, her figure, the way she’d seemed to know his deepest fantasies—to know just how to embody them.
He was stunned by how obvious it was…by the extent of her deception.
Xenia was Sirena.
Why would she deceive me?Pain spread through the cracks of his soul, bewildered rage following in its wake.Was this some sort of game to her…did she amuse herself at the expense of her crippled fool of an employer? While I was falling in love with her, was she laughing at me?
“Are you certain you want to do this?” Owen asked.
