he’s dead?”
Jessica and Gideon exchanged glances. She knew what he was thinking because she was thinking the same thing. Whether because of a love of rules or as a result of the leader’s demand Turner Collier hand over his daughter to be sacrificed, thanks to her father, the bible still existed. All the old names were there, all the newer names were there. Wherever there was…
“What else do you want to know? We meet…the Society meets at designated spots located on the country estates of the members. I was there with the others, waiting, the night Jamie Linden ran off with you, my lady. There had to be a new ceremony, the next full moon. We all suffered for that, we women. But we were glad for you.”
“Yes…um…thank you.” Jessica had nearly said I’m sorry, nearly apologized. There was also the fact that someone eventually had died in her place. Been sacrificed in her place. She longed to scream but knew it would serve no purpose. “Gideon? Are we done now?”
“I’m sorry but not quite, no. Mrs. Urban…Felicity…I know we can never truly understand the horrors that brought you and the others to do what you did. But are you certain you know no other names?”
“We don’t. Really, we don’t. I told you. The guests didn’t bring wives anymore, and they always wore masks, even before the new Leader arrived and took charge. We only knew the ones we…we only knew each other. We only had each other. These last few years have been terrible, the worst of any of them. We couldn’t concern ourselves with their wild plans. It was our husbands we needed dead, so that we’d finally be free, out of it. You can understand that. You were so lucky, my lady, that Jamie Linden died. Our husbands seemed to go on forever.”
Jessica could only nod her head, unable to meet the woman’s eyes. Too many memories, all rushing back at once. Memories she’d pushed to the back of her mind, as Richard had told her to do, as she’d needed to do.
Gideon got to his feet. “Very well, Felicity. You’ve been a tremendous help to us. Now allow me to keep my end of the bargain.”
“There is the one other thing,” she said as she leaned over, picked up the bandbox and handed it to him. “Archie had a locked cabinet in his study. I was able to locate the key and open it and bring you its contents, in the chance I needed to bargain. But now you can simply have it all.”
Gideon took the bandbox and set it down on the table. “Thank you. this may be helpful. But we’d better get you moving now, clear of the city before your husband realizes you’ve taken this and mounts a pursuit.”
Felicity Urban replaced the brown bottle in her reticule and rose unsteadily to her feet. She attempted a wobbly smile. “That’s very kind of you, my lord, but don’t worry. That’s already been taken care of. With the Marquis of Mellis so conveniently dying without it costing us a penny, it was Alfie’s turn, you understand. His turn…”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“PIN MONEY,” GIDEON SAID, staring into his wineglass once they were back in Portman Square, he and Max sitting together in the study. “The wives hired killers with their pooled allowances. No wonder the accidents always seemed to occur at the beginning of each new quarter. My God, it’s almost funny.”
“So where is the lethal Mrs. Urban off to?” Max asked as he lounged on one of the leather couches, his long legs stretched out in front of him.
“Ireland, although she wouldn’t say exactly where,” Gideon told him. “She has a cousin who will take her in. Her children were in another room at the shop. A boy and a girl. They took charge of her and led her down to the traveling coach. The boy is perhaps fourteen, and I don’t think it’s too fanciful of me to say he’s the near mirror image of the late Noddy Selkirk. You’d think they would have considered that sort of possibility.”
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