“You’re young,” he returned. “There’s still time.”
She shook her head. “No, there’s not. I’m dying, and the last thing I want for my last days is to keep running. I just want some… peace.” She uttered the last as if it was a dream she was unable to attain.
Devin dared to take a single step closer. “Tell me what you know and I will ensure you have your last wish.”
He waited, until finally, she nodded.
Constance woke up with a pounding head and a foul mood. “Bloody bastard,” she snarled. She touched the back of her head, where the wig no longer rested, and winced at the tenderness there. When she looked at her hand, it was free of blood, so she supposed that was a good sign. Either way, she wasn’t pleased.
“Someone isn’t a morning person,” came a mocking, male drawl.
She snorted. “Something told me you were behind this.” She slit open an eye and even though her head throbbed in protest at the light, she was relieved to see that her surroundings still looked familiar, so she was still in Lady Blessington’s townhouse. Although now she glared at Granelli. “Two-tooth. That’s your moniker, isn’t it? How did you come by such a worthless title? You do have more than two teeth in that miserable head, don’t you?”
He chuckled with more than a hint of malice. “Keep on laughing, because it won’t be for much longer.” He bent down to her eye level and grinned broadly, showing off a mouthful of more than just two teeth. “I got that alias because I ensured one of my enemies left this world with only two teeth in his miserable head, just before I dumped his body in the Thames.”
She rolled her eyes. “That wasn’t very sporting of you.”
“But it made the other gangs in London take notice of me after that,” he pointed out smugly.
“Good for you.” She feigned a yawn.
He grabbed hold of her hair, and she gritted her teeth against the discomfort. “I’ll be glad to deal with you once Brooks has his fill.” He released her abruptly and Constance started to rise to retaliate, but the bounds around her ankles, tying her to a chair, kept her immobile.
“We didn’t need you running off just yet,” Granelli said. “Not until you agree to our terms.”
She crossed her arms and leaned back in a bored manner. “And what is that?”
“We understand you’re going to be visited by a certain lady this evening. I want to know what she tells you.”
“And if I don’t?” she challenged.
Another masculine voice answered from behind her. “Then I’ll be glad to run your lover through with his own blade.”
She waited for Sir Isaacson to come into her line of vision. He was dressed as he normally was. “And here I thought for sure you’d be wearing a pink gown for this evening’s festivities,” she said sweetly.
He smiled slowly. “Someday, someone is going to remove that razor sharp tongue, and I do believe it may be me.”
Granelli chuckled at that, but she ignored him. “What are you hoping to find out from this woman?” She addressed the baronet and pretended ignorance about the maid’s identity.
He sat across from her and casually crossed one leg over the other. “She has some pertinent information about my past. I want it back.”
“Like what?” she prodded. “Some sort of family heirloom? More than likely the gems have been sold and replaced with paste by now.”
“Not exactly,” he returned patiently. “It’s more of a false accusation.”
She tilted her head to the side. “Oh, dear. What did you do, Sir Isaacson? Was it something terrible? Did you spill punch down the front of your latest mistress’s dress?”
His eyes flashed dangerously, and Constance knew she had nearly pushed him past his limits. But it was the only way she would have any hope of a confession from him regarding Lady Tyne’s murder.
“You are very trying, Madame Corressa.” He withdrew a dagger and balanced the blade before him. “I’m honestly trying to decide if you’re worth the trouble.”
She shrugged. It was better not to show fear when faced with such a cretin. A lesson she’d learned long ago. Most men enjoyed the power they believe they wielded over a helpless female. “Do what you think is necessary. It will honestly spare me any more time with that imbecile, Blackmore.”
He laughed. “Oh, come now, my lovely courtesan. You can’t expect me to believe that there isn’t something deeper between the two of you. I watched you dance tonight and there didn’t appear to be anything fabricated when you were together.”
“Didn’t it?” She appeared to mull this over. “Then it appears my acting skills have only improved with time.” She reached up and slowly began to untie her cravat. “Why don’t you send your dense accomplice on his merry way so we can discuss matters in a more… intimate setting?”
She allowed her legs to relax as she slipped the knot of silk free. She held it out beside her where it fluttered to the ground in a sensual manner that was not lost on the baronet. “Leave us,” he ordered Granelli.
