“How clever of you to recognize my voice. Now tell me who rescued you.”
She clamped her lips together. They were clearly going to kill her anyway; she was not telling them the name of the man she loved. Theo would look out for Henry alongside her aunt and uncle after they had killed her; she was sure of it.
Iris swallowed down the pain of not seeing those she loved again. Not watching her son grow into a man.
“She said she took the papers to the magistrate,” Renton snarled.
“Did she now?” Picton looked at her, his gaze mocking now. “Well, as two of our worshippers are magistrates, I’m sure that will not be a problem.”
“People know about you,” Iris said. “Lots of people.”
Picton laughed. “No, my dear, they do not and won’t. We are too powerful and too well hidden, and you are nothing and a nobody with a title. Your husband ensured you never stepped into society and made friends.”
“Did you kill Lord and Lady Montgomery?” It had been a hunch, but the surprise on Picton’s face told her she was right.
“He killed our leader, and as such, revenge was needed. The gods needed to be appeased.”
“You do realize how ridiculous that sounds, don’t you? What do you worship? Surely not the devil, or is that Satan?” She scoffed. If Iris was to die this day, she’d go down fighting. Besides, she’d vowed never to be weak before a man again.
The hand came out fast and slapped her. “You are insolent and need disciplining!” Picton roared. “Never speak such filth in our presence again.”
Her lips stung, and she tasted blood, but Iris did not look away.
“It is a strong man who hits a woman who cannot fight back.”
His face went as red as Renton’s had.
“You are nothing more than a pathetic little man who gets his excitement in a silly group with a silly name vowing allegiance to a fallen angel.”
He hit her again, hard, and this time darkness followed.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE
Monty left the Speckled Hen with the Devilles. They were no longer angry with him but had lectured him repeatedly over what they saw as his bad behavior. From now on, they would watch him, and he must account for his actions.
He realized their concern was making him smile, so he frowned. Sitting there in that tavern with the Devilles, he realized one thing. He no longer wanted to live his life alone as Plunge.
“Tomorrow you can tell Iris you love her, and we will deal with how to make Lord Plunge less simpering and foppish so you can wed her and still be part of society,” Michael said.
“Do I get any say in this?” Monty asked mildly because everything Michael said was what he wanted. He did love Iris and needed to tell her so.
He watched Zach throw Mary up into her sidesaddle and then mount his horse beside her. They were all like that, these Devilles. Protective of one another. Women and men who cared deeply for their mates and those in their inner circle.
He wanted that kind of closeness with Iris and Henry. Monty no longer wanted to be alone in the dark, and her touch brought him into the light.
Soon they were riding through the dark streets of London. It was late now, and people would be attending society balls and events.
“Why are you lot not at the Beldon musical?” he asked, running mentally through his weekly list of invites.
“Because Geraint called,” Gabe said, “and we were concerned about you.”
He wanted to rub his chest as it burned again.
Monty had no idea what his life would look like from now on. He just knew he wanted Iris, Henry, and these people to be part of that. Tomorrow he would talk to her. If he was honest, he didn’t excel at talking in the way he would need to with her, but then he didn’t think she was a great deal better having lived with that bastard Challoner.
“Someone is in a hurry,” Zach said suddenly, nudging Mary’s horse with his to the left as the sound of a speeding carriage reached them. Turning in his saddle, he noted it was a hackney and, yes, it was going fast, but it slowed when the driver saw them before him in the road.
“Move!” he bellowed.
