Page 17 of A Deal with the Devil

“How?”

“I have a few ideas up my sleeve.”

She had no ideas up her sleeve. None. Not a single blasted one.

She smiled. Comfortingly.

Evie grimaced. “Not that smile again. You’ll scare Galahad.”

Kitty kissed the top of her head. “There is a library here, and that pool for swimming. The ballroom is full of weapons. I’m quite envious.”

“Do you think Priya would let me help with the gardens?”

“I don’t see why not.” Kitty hugged her hard. Galahad made a sleepy sound of protest when the cage tilted. “No letters. Don’t tell anyone where you are, not even your friends.”

“I won’t.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Priya was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, gold gleaming at her ears and wrists. She cut a half-wilted bud off a peony plant with brutal efficiency. “Miss Caldecott, a moment, if you please.”

Kitty nodded and followed her down the hall and out into the greenhouse, warm and smelling of dark mud and green leaves and every kind of bright flower. With Hyde Park hulking behind, you would never guess London also waited beyond, full of coal smoke and the stinking Thames heating up under the summer sun.

Priya moved to a bank of lily of the valley, examining the leaves for Kitty knew not what. She seemed well satisfied, though, and moved on to a lemon tree in a clay urn. “Clara warned me you might seek our help for your sister,” she said. “And we will help, as I said. Of course we will. Just as we would help you, though I am thoroughly cross with you.”

“I deserve it.”

Priya watched her through narrowed eyes for a long moment before sighing. “You’re taking all the fun out of my righteous indignation.”

Kitty nearly smiled. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop that.”

“Sor—” She cut herself off.

Priya did smile, though briefly. “I remember you, you know.”

Kitty was surprised. “You do?”

“You send women our way more than anyone else.”

“Ah.” Kitty nodded. “It’s the shop, you see. The kinds of books I sell. Ladies either see me as someone who is dangerous or someone who is safe.”

“And you have chosen safe.”

She winced. “Mostly.”

“Yes. That business with Clara.”

“Yes.” Kitty rubbed at her breastbone.

Priya sighed again, thoroughly disgruntled. “Clara says she has forgiven you, so I suppose I ought to as well.”

“I will regret it every day.” Kitty had lost a true friend. Not lost—tossed away. Betrayed.

“To be fair,” Priya continued, “had I a sister, there is nothing I would not also do to keep her from Portsmouth. And I would also have done the same for any of my friends to be quite honest.”