Her gaze flew to Winter. “Silence.”
Winter looked drawn and years older than his true age. “Silence has been missing since yesterday afternoon.”
HE’D TOLD HER to unlace her bodice and to take down her hair, so she had.
Silence walked from Charming Mickey O’Connor’s bedroom with her hair trailing down her back. His bedroom was on the floor above the throne room, and in the hall outside, she came upon a maid—the first female servant she’d seen here. The woman stared at her and then looked quickly away again, back to her work of polishing the multicolored marble floor. For a moment, Silence wondered if the maid had any help in her chore, or if perhaps that was all she did? Polish yard after yard of amazing marble floor? If so, it was a task she did not envy the woman.
“This way, miss,” a male voice called.
She looked up and saw that Harry waited for her. His eyes were filled with pity.
Silence straightened her shoulders. “Thank you.”
The guard hesitated. “Would you like to put yourself to rights?”
He kept his gaze firmly away from the tops of her breasts, revealed by her open bodice.
“No,” Silence whispered. “No, thank you.”
Charming Mickey had made it plain that straightening herself was not allowed.
Harry looked at her helplessly for a moment and then nodded. He turned and led the way down the curving marble stairs. Other people were up by now, for it was well past dawn, and the expressions as they saw her varied. Some were pitying like Harry. Some—mostly women—looked envious. But the majority were merely contemptuous; one bold fellow even dared to wink at her before Harry shoved him hard into the wall. After that, most turned their faces away as she passed.
They came to the front door, and Harry held it open for her.
“If’n you need anything, miss, just ask,” he muttered as she passed.
“Thank you,” she replied politely, “but I have everything I came for.”
And she walked into the bright, merciless sunshine.
Charming Mickey had been quite explicit in his instructions, so she placed one foot in front of the other and walked up the middle of the dingy St. Giles street, her long hair blowing in the wind. She didn’t look left or right but kept her eyes focused straight ahead, even when the whores returning home called crude things to her.
She closed her ears and heart and heard nothing, saw nothing, until directly in front of her she saw Temperance’s face, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Then Silence gasped once and felt the sting of tears at her own eyes.
But by then she’d made it to the end of the street, so it was quite all right. She’d followed his instructions, done everything he’d said, and he’d honor his part of the bargain as well.
Except her life would never be the same again.
Chapter Twelve
Meg sighed. “This is not love, Your Majesty.”
King Lockedheart froze in the act of feeding a small morsel of cake to the little blue bird. “Then what is it?”
“Fear,” Meg said simply. “Your courtiers fear you, Your Majesty.”
The king grunted and seemed pensive.
“Take her back to the dungeons,” he ordered the guards. “And, Meg?”
“Your Majesty?”
“Take care you comb your hair when next I see you.”
“But I need a comb and pins to dress my hair,” Meg said softly.
The king only nodded impatiently and once again Meg was led away….
—from King Lockedheart
Temperance held Silence close and gently laced her bodice as the rented carriage rattled back to Wapping. Silence was limp, but her breath was rough and Temperance could feel her tears dropping to her fingers as she worked at the gown.
“Do you need a doctor?” Temperance finally asked.
“No. No, I’m fine,” Silence whispered.
That was so obviously not the case that Temperance felt fresh tears start again. She swiped at them fiercely with her wrist. Now was not the time to succumb to her own horror and regret. She had to be strong for Silence.
“What”—she had to stop and inhale—“what did he do to you, dearest?”
“Nothing at all,” Silence said tonelessly. “He never even touched me.”
Temperance started to protest but then reined herself in. Quite obviously Charming Mickey had done something to Silence, and just as obviously she couldn’t talk about it right now. For the next several minutes, Temperance concentrated on finger-combing her sister’s long russet hair. She parted and braided it and, using a few of her own hairpins, wrapped it in a crown about her head.
Silence lay against Temperance’s breast while Temperance stroked her forehead as if she were a little child.
She broke the quiet after a bit. “Dearest, whyever did you go to that man?”
Silence sighed, the sound lost and lonely. “I had to save William.”
“But why didn’t you come to me first? We could have discussed it, perhaps found another way to help William.” Temperance tried to keep her voice even, but she knew some of her despair leaked through.
“You were so busy,” Silence said quietly. “With the home, with the children, with Lord Caire and your hunt for a new patron.”
Her words were like a knife to Temperance’s breast. How could she have become so involved with other things that her own sister had not thought to come to her for help?
“It wouldn’t have mattered anyway,” Silence whispered, closing her eyes. “I had to go to Charming Mickey alone. I had to make the bargain I did with him alone. And it worked, you know.”
“What worked, dearest?” Temperance murmured.
“My going to Charming Mickey. My bargain with him. He says he’ll return the Finch’s stolen cargo.”
Temperance closed her eyes as well. She hoped that the pirate king would keep his word, but even if a miracle happened and he did, that would not change things for Silence.
Her baby sister was ruined—now and forever.
LAZARUS HAD RISEN only moments before when the argument started outside his bedroom door that afternoon. He looked up from his desk, where he’d been sitting in his banyan and breeches, and watched his bedroom door burst open.
Temperance marched in the room. Behind her hovered Small.
Lazarus took one look at the evidence of tears on Temperance’s face and snapped to his valet. “Leave us.”
Small bowed and drew the bedroom doors shut.
Lazarus stood slowly. “What has happened?”