It wasn’t nerves. It was something else. Something even more terrifying. The blackmail felt wrong. She was aware of a sense of guilt that had never before been present in her life. The time spent with the Sinclairs, especially with Grae, had shown her what normal was like. He treated her like a lady, and she found she liked it immensely. For the first time in her life, she’d found a place where she fit in, something she’d only ever dared to hope for in the quietest hour of the night. And putting on Lady A’s disguise was like wearing a dress three sizes too small. It was confining and uncomfortable.
It scared her, this sudden burst of conscience. If she wasn’t Lady A, then who was she? Where did she really belong? Arista shook her head. This, right here, was where she had to be. It didn’t matter who she wanted to be—only who she was right now. To get out of this life she had to play the game.
Her client was waiting. It was time to do her job.
“Would you care to dance?” a low voice from behind her asked. Arista turned, a shiver of excitement running over her skin, but it wasn’t Grae.
“No thank you. I’m waiting for someone.”
“A shame,” he said. A small smile passed over his lips and he nodded his head. “If you change your mind, you have only to ask.”
As he walked away, she couldn’t stop herself from the obvious comparison. His shoulders were narrower than Grae’s, and he wasn’t quite as tall. From what she saw of the lower part of his face, he wasn’t hideous to look at, nor did his breath reek of brandy. His behavior was polite enough. All things considered, he appeared to be a decent enough gentleman. And yet she felt nothing for him. There was only person she wanted at her side. And for that reason alone, she had made sure he did not know where she was.
Grae would not be there tonight, as she had given Becky explicit instructions not to tell him anything. Part of her wished that she had said nothing to Becky. Watching couples dance and flirt behind the safety of their disguises made her want Grae there. She missed being in his arms more than she wanted to admit. No one would be an adequate substitute.
“I grow tired of waiting for you to come to me.”
Arista swung around and came face-to-face with the man she’d met before. His eyes glinted dangerously in the candlelight. He was gripping the head of his cane tightly, and she had the distinct feeling that he would just as soon beat her with it as lean on it. Keeping him waiting had not gone over well at all.
Which pleased her greatly.
“I’m on no one’s schedule but my own, sir. But since you are standing here, we may as well conclude this business.” He took her arm none too gently, pulling her closer to the darkened side of the room. Once they were away from curious eyes, Arista pulled out the packet Wild had given her and held it out to him, but yanked it away when he reached for it. “You have something for me?”
He glared at her, but took out another purse of coins. Once the purse was in her hand, she dropped the packet into his outstretched palm. He quickly tucked it into an inner pocket, then patted his jacket. A self-satisfied smile curled his lips up.
His greed was the ticket to her freedom, but someone else would ultimately lose when he used this information to blackmail them. “Good evening to you, sir,” she said, starting to turn away.
He grabbed her arm again, and this time squeezed it until she winced. Arista tried to pull away, but his fingers dug into her flesh painfully. “If I don’t get what I want from this deal, I will personally come after you, my dear.”
Fear clawed its way over her skin, and she took a deep breath to push it back down. Lady A resurfaced. Deftly, her hand fell to her thigh, and her knife was free before he could move. The tip pressed against his groin. “If you ever threaten me again, sir, I will make sure that your line ends with you. Is that clear?” This was a dangerous game she played. The people around her were too engrossed in each other to care if she was hurt. Nic had been the one who kept her safe before, but now there was no one. She needed to appear strong and unafraid.
His eyes narrowed, but he released her arm and stepped away from her. “A wise move,” she said pleasantly. “Again, good evening to you, sir.” Arista slid the blade back into its sheath and turned her back on him. Without glancing back, she knew her casual dismissal of him would fuel his anger. Men like him did not like disrespect, especially from a woman who held power.
It wasn’t until she’d made it to the patio doors that Arista allowed her hand to drop from the knife’s handle under her skirt. Tonight she felt like a fraud. No matter what Wild promised her, no matter how much money she extorted from the aristocracy for him, she knew it would never be enough. Men like him, led by greedy hearts, took and took until there was nothing left. She might be better paid now, but she was still as much his pawn as Bones’s. She had to get out before it was too late.
The idea that had been dancing in her mind since Nic left her the letters grew stronger.
If she contacted the people in the packet and offered them their secrets back in exchange for a reasonable sum, she could get the money she needed for passage to India—while also freeing them from further blackmail. She could make some amends for her part in Bones’s blackmail scheme.