“She is a lovely thing, but so young.” Clementine pouted. “Not even twenty, I should think. Do you believe the marquess will grant his permission?”
“He already has.”
“My, my. You have been busy. Asking permission to court diamonds of theton. Getting knifed by Little Hook.” Clementine patted him lightly on the cheek. “You rest up now.” She offered a wide smile. “I’m sure I can find someone else to entertain me this evening.”
Jasper caught her hand before she could turn. He brought her fingers to his lips. “Thank you for understanding.”
“You know your happiness is very important to me, Jasper.” She tugged her hand free and sauntered from the room, each sway of her hips an obvious reminder of what he could no longer have.
Jasper didn’t mind. All in all, telling Clementine about Madelina had gone much better than he’d hoped. Clementine could be a very passionate woman. He’d expected shouting, threats, and a much more concerted effort at seduction.
Then again, like as not, she’d crawl into his bed later. In fact, when he did go to sleep, he would lock the doors. Not only tonight, but every night from now on, until he moved out of the Aspen, which he’d do as soon as possible. Clementine White was a very persistent woman.
Still, he’d told her. Having that task behind him and knowing they’d saved four young women, dulled some of his frustration over Madam Dequenne evading him. Unfortunately, the more his mind cleared and the longer he thought about the situation, the more his confusion and worry grew over Madelina being Little Hook.
Chapter Eleven
Madelina paced before the fireplace, recounting to her aunt everything that had transpired since Aunt Aubrey had dropped her at the coaching stop far outside London. Overwarm, and forced to wear a long-sleeved gown due to the bruises on her arms, Madelina wished no fire blazed in the grate. In truth, they had no need of extra heat. The staff only sought light, she knew, to stave off the parlor’s oppressive darkness.
“…and then, before I could take down the final man and go after her, who should come in but Mister Mclintock.” Rage roiled through Madelina. How dare he pretend to care about the plights faced by women? Take donations for his so-called charity? Make Madelina think he harbored feelings for her?
“Mister Mclintock’s arrival would have posed no problem if you’d shot her,” Aunt Aubrey snapped from her place on a sofa.
Madelina halted, back to her aunt. Her fists clenched, nails biting into her palms. “I couldn’t.”
“Why not?” Aunt Aubrey’s words were clipped. “She is, according to you, Madam Dequenne. The woman is evil. You only needed to pull the trigger to make the world a better place.”
“W-we needed information from her. To unravel her organization.”
“Killing her would have unraveled it aplenty.”
Madelina squeezed her lids shut, glad her aunt couldn’t see her face. She remembered her bravado, the certainty that facing a cocked pistol would reduce Miss White to a teary confession of all aspects of her organization. Madelina pictured the fear in the other woman’s eyes. Heard the sound of men running to the room. Saw them burst through the doorway. Worst of all, she read the moment of vicious joy when Miss White realized Madelina couldn’t shoot to kill.
“I shot one of her men,” she offered, opening her eyes. He’d pointed a pistol at her as he came through the door. She’d shot him in the leg. “And I cut Mclintock.”
“What does that matter?” Aunt Aubrey asked. “Mclintock? Some hired ruffian? They aren’t the force behind the abductions.”
Perhaps if Miss White held a gun. Maybe even if she’d thrown something. But Madelina simply couldn’t stand before a person and shoot them down. She was no executioner.
And now Miss White knew as much.
“Do you even know if the girls are safe?” Aunt Aubrey asked. “I assume you left them there when you fled.”
A new heat suffused Madelina’s face. “No, I don’t know.” The words came out a whisper. She should have asked for names. Found out who the other girls were. At least, then, she’d be able to hunt down their relations. Instead, she’d deliberately kept to herself, to better perpetuate her ruse as Little Hook.
“I see.”
Behind her, Madelina heard Aunt Aubrey push to her feet.
“I’m disappointed in you, Madelina. Eleven years I’ve trained you, brought in men and women from my past life to educate you. You could have made us all proud yesterday.”
“Why?” Madelina blurted out the question she’d longed to ask for so many years but had never mustered the courage to ask. Daunted by her aunt’s constant judgement, her lack of warmth, Madelina had always expected to be sent away if she disappointed Aunt Aubrey, and questions aggravated her. “Why did you train me?”
“To kill your father. You know that, girl.”
“But when he died, we kept training.”
“Because there’s so much potential in you. Because I had reason to believe you have inside you the means to be a great defender of the weak, at least as good at Lord Lefthook. Not to simply take revenge on one man, but on anyone like him.” Aunt Aubrey shook her head in a slow, ponderous movement. “But now, I know you couldn’t have killed your father. You couldn’t have avenged your mother…my sister. You don’t have it inside you, what it takes to do what must be done. I think we should return to the country for a time. London is too much for you.”
