She’d never had an actual bath before. Not a get completely undressed and submerge yourself in a tub of hot water bath.
“No.” Arista looked between Wild and the maid, who then glanced quizzically back at Wild. Panic made her skin feel tight. She pulled the quilt to her neck. Would they force her into that thing if she refused? Her gaze slid to her knife.
“I can have your friend sent over to assist you, if that would make you more comfortable,” Wild said softly. “At least she might help you wash up?”
Yes, she wanted to see Becky for herself, and could use the basin to wash her face and hands. “That is fine.”
The maid hurried out of the room and Wild followed. At the door, he hesitated. His eyes were unreadable when he looked over at her. “I’ve just realized that I know you only by one name. The prudence of calling you Lady A outside of your disguise might make for unwanted gossip. As we’ve not yet reached a deal, I think it wise to remain silent regarding that information. Don’t you?”
She nodded, but not because a deal had been made. If word got out she was Lady A, if they knew what she looked like under the mask, there would be nowhere to hide. The chances of getting killed would be high, whether she took Wild up on his offer or not.
Wild waited and Arista knew he wanted her name. She had no intention of giving him that information. Silence echoed in the room. “Ana,” she lied. In the market, there was a girl that Nic often called out to. Flirted with. Her name was Ana.
Wild nodded in satisfaction and left the room, pausing long enough to hold the door for Becky, who hurried inside. Arista did not see Wild leave. Her focus was on her friend.
Arista stood and met Becky’s hesitant gaze. Becky wore a simple blue dress similar to the maid’s. She stayed frozen in the middle of the room, her hands clenched tightly together. She was still scared.
The covers fell off Arista to the floor as she got up.
Angry bruises marred Becky’s arms; they looked like shadows thrown haphazardly across her body. A larger black discoloration covered the part of Becky’s face that had been injured previously. A square of white linen had been taped over one eye to hide the damage done there.
“Oh, Becky, I’m so sorry.” Arista’s voice cracked and then broke. She wanted to throw her arms around her friend, but what if Becky hated her now? Arista would not blame her.
It wasn’t the first time Becky had been marred by a man with angry fists. Arista’s empty stomach flipped with guilt. She had promised her friend that no one would ever hurt her again, and yet she had stood by helplessly while Bones beat Becky into unconsciousness. Blame weighed so heavily inside her that Arista could barely lift her arms.
“Oh, miss.” Becky quickly crossed the room and took one of Arista’s hands in hers. “It wasn’t your fault. That man is pure evil and got what he deserved. Mr. Wild told me about the fire and how he pulled us out. If it weren’t for him…” Becky’s hands trembled, and Arista settled her free hand over her friend’s. The girl’s shaking quieted under the contact.
“We got nowhere to go. No money or clothes or food. Everything is gone,” Becky whispered. “What are we going to do now, miss? What will we do?” A quiet note of desperation had entered her voice. Women had very few choices for employment in London. Becky was a masterful seamstress, but no reputable shop would hire a disfigured girl with no references.
A tear splashed down onto her hands, and Arista looked up. This close, she could see the blue and green and black of Becky’s bruises much clearer. A small cut ran from the corner of her mouth, covered with a thin line of crusted blood.
A fresh wave of rage and guilt burned Arista’s skin. She should have been able to stop Bones. Nic had taught her to fight, to take care of herself. She should have protected Becky. But she had not. She had failed her friend. The only thing she could do to make sure Becky would not have to live on the street, or worse, was to work with Wild.
“You’ll be safe and no one will ever get close enough to hurt you again. I promise I’ll take care of you,” Arista said. “Don’t worry about anything except getting better.”
Dealing with Wild, partnering with him, meant taking an enormous risk, but she had no other option. Arista had no skills, save those of a thief. An alliance was the only way to make sure that Becky stayed safe from now on.
She would agree to Wild’s request. There really was no other choice. She had no money, no means of leaving London. But there were a few things he had to get for them first—things Arista needed in place before they made their deal. She let go of Becky’s hand and turned around toward the wardrobe. The room kept turning after she stopped. Arista fumbled to right herself. Becky rushed to her side. “Miss, when did you eat last? You look so pale.”