Renard glanced up at the Prodding Pony’s roof, seeing a familiar shadowed figure perched precariously on the edge.
Finding himself capable of smiling despite the gallows’ steps he stood upon, he said, “Hello, wise sage.” He held up two silver coins from his pocket. “Two shillings if you come down. Three if you promise to keep off the edge from here on.”
He saw a flash of teeth beyond the dark hood.
“Still arrogant, I see,” she said. “You looking for Camille? ’Cause she ain’t here.”
“No,” he said, his stomach roiling. “The Madam and I have business.”
The door to the club opened, revealing the woman herself, the kohl around her eyes highlighting an amused expression. “Not sure I can afford any more of your business. Come to steal another of my girls away?”
Renard frowned. He was in no mood for games. “Your letter was most direct. You wish a bribe to keep my secrets quiet, right? Then name your price.”
Madam cocked a brow and chuckled. “I have no need for your company, nor your secrets.” She turned in the open doorway, her dismissal clear. “Consider our previous arrangement void.All information is stricken from memory. You are no longer welcome in my establishment.”
Renard gripped the door before it closed. “Wait! I received your letter. You threatened to reveal my secret.”
Madam’s smirk was sardonic. “‘Secret?’ Is that what it said? No specifics?” At his hesitation, she rolled her eyes. “Any idiot could see you enter from the street and know my payment for membership is divulging asecret.” She waved him away. “Someone is having a go at you.”
The doubt rising in him felt akin to dread. He’d told no one else, aside from Camille. “You give me your word, Madam. You swear it was not you?”
The woman cocked her head, her expression turning serious. “I would not lie about such a thing, Your Grace. What would it gain me?”
Renard took the letter and envelope from his coat pocket, the club’s insignia unmistakable on the seal. “If you didn’t write it, then one of your Ponies must have.”
Madam stared down at the letter, her face turning ashen. “When was this sent?”
“It was delivered to my estate this morning.”
“That’s impossible,” she whispered.
This day kept getting worse; one of Madam’s girls had found out his past and was attempting to blackmail him for some unknown reason and amount. At least it appeared the Madam truly had no knowledge of the scheme.
“If you compile a list of the girls with access to your seal, we can uncover the culprit.”
Madam continued to stare at the letter, her skin ghostly pale. “No one,” she whispered again. “No one has access.”
Renard breathed out his impatience. “I understand. No one wishes to believe their coworkers capable of such treachery.”
Her head snapped up at that. “Youdon’t understand. When I say no one has access, I meanno one.” She pointed at the seal, her hand steady, but her voice shaky. “That insignia is locked up at all times, in a secret room only one other person, besides myself, knew about.”
Renard rolled his eyes. “Then that person is responsible. What is her name?”
Madam shook her head, her voice dropping to a mutter. “It can’t be. It doesn’t make sense. How would someone else know?”
His temper snapped. “Damn it, woman! Give me the name if you cannot deal with the person yourself.”
Madam glanced up at him, and Renard was taken aback by the fear on the woman’s normally indifferent face.
“Something is wrong,” she said emphatically. “She must be in danger.” She swayed.
Renard grabbed the woman by the shoulders to keep her on her feet. Clearly, this subterfuge had hit the woman harder than first perceived. He lowered his voice until it was soothing, persuasive. “Shh, now. Give me a name, Madam. We will see no harm comes to her.Whois in danger?”
Madam’s gaze locked on his, and Renard felt the woman’s terror slide across their bodies and grip the heart in his chest. He knew the answer before her mouth formed the name.
“Camille.”
The woman from the roof dropped down without a sound, her hood pulled back.
