Lady Helen and the Dark Days Pact

He leaned forward and took her hand, lifting it to his lips and brushing a soft kiss across her skin. Delia pointedly looked away from the intimacy.

‘There will be no more secrets, Helen,’ the Duke added, still holding her hand. ‘No need to try to protect me. I am in this world with you now, by your side. I will help you in any way you demand. You just have to ask.’

The door suddenly opened to admit Pike. Helen snatched back her hand.

‘How is Lord Carlston?’ she asked, ignoring the Duke’s frown of irritation.

‘Unconscious,’ Pike said, his voice hard and somewhat pleased. ‘Come with me.’ He addressed Selburn. ‘If you will excuse us, Your Grace, I have Reclaimer business with Lady Helen. I am sure Miss Cransdon will be able to answer any further questions you have about your new role as a Reclaimer aide.’

Delia looked at him in alarm. ‘I am not sure I know that much, sir.’

Pike observed her for a heavy, dismissive second, then bowed to the Duke.

Helen rose from the sofa. ‘Your Grace.’ She curtseyed, but could not quite meet his eye. He was so ardent in his desire to protect her against all dangers. Surely she should be glad to have such a man by her side, yet all she could feel was a heavy sense of dread. She would bring harm to him; it felt as inevitable as her next breath.

In silence, she followed Pike out of the room, one hand pressed over the back of the other where the Duke’s kiss still warmed her skin.





Chapter Twenty-Three

‘Close the door, Lady Helen,’ Pike ordered.

He stood in the middle of the morning room, a shaft of afternoon light through the front window catching a shiny wear patch on the sleeve of his black jacket and showing the wilt of his shirt points. The slight shabbiness, however, did nothing to detract from the menace of the man. He continued to observe her silently, seconds ticking by into an agonising minute. Just a tactic, Helen told herself, and yet her clasped hands were becoming decidedly clammy.

‘Hammond claims neither he nor you informed Lord Carlston about the journal,’ Pike finally said. ‘Is this true?’

‘You have spoken to Mr Hammond?’ A sense of foreboding pushed Helen forward a step. ‘Where is he?’

‘Currently in the custody of Mr Stokes on the charge of treason.’

He said it with such mildness. Helen pressed her hand to her chest. Custody. Treason.

‘Well?’ he prompted. ‘Is it true?’

‘We did not tell him.’

‘How did he know about it then?’ Pike’s voice was still deceptively mild.

There was no place to go now. Mr Hammond was in custody. She had to tell the truth. God help them.

‘He believes the Comte d’Antraigues knows the way to cure him of his …’ She paused, still not wanting to say ‘madness’ to Pike. ‘Malady. The Comte made some of the journal pages — those about himself and his family — the price for the information. He also has information about the Grand Deceiver.’

‘And both of you chose not to tell me this?’ The mildness had snapped into a tight snarl.

‘We thought we could get the journal before Lord Carlston.’

Pike drew in a deep breath. ‘He has made a deal with a Deceiver, a deal that promises a cure for something that cannot be cured and information about a myth, and you still think his judgment is unimpaired?’ His voice rose. ‘You are blinded — you and Hammond — by your feelings, by your carnal desires.’ He spat out the word. ‘Your misguided loyalty has lost us the journal. I should have you in chains as well.’

Mr Hammond was in chains?

Pike stalked across the space between them and stood a bare foot from her, the fury in his face drying up any defence on her tongue. She fought the impulse to step back. She must not give up her ground.

‘Carlston is trying to retrieve his Ligatus,’ he said, his voice pitched low but still fierce.

‘No!’ Pike may think her blinded by desire, but he was blinded by hate. ‘I assure you he did not know it existed until the Comte told him about it. He does not know it is a Ligatus.’

‘How can you believe he would not know such a thing existed?’

‘He has been out of the country for three years. You said yourself you did not know it existed until recently.’

‘Yes, but then I did not make it, did I? I think Lord Carlston is almost as good at deception as our foes.’

He paced a few steps away. Helen gulped a breath as if his absence had suddenly allowed air into her vicinity again. How could she fight such wilful pig-headedness?

He rounded on her again. ‘You let Lowry get away with the Ligatus.’

This time she did step back. ‘I had no choice. Either Lowry got it or the Deceiver.’ She crossed her arms. ‘Would you rather the Deceiver had it now?’

‘Of course not. Even so, your actions — and Hammond’s — are treasonous. You have disobeyed orders. You have withheld vital information from me.’

‘It was all my fault,’ she said. ‘I decided to try to take the journal. I told Mr Hammond to keep quiet. He was following my orders.’ She swallowed; her mouth felt so dry. ‘All is not lost, I assure you. Lowry will still want to make a deal. Nothing has changed.’

‘Don’t be naive. He will not trust you now. For God’s sake, I don’t trust you. He will sell it elsewhere, perhaps even to the Deceivers.’

Helen felt herself sway as if she stood on the edge of a very deep chasm. A lie would buy her more time to retrieve the journal; and the truth … Well, the truth would bring a cruel brute into her mind and soul. There would be no bond with dear Darby, no safety, no trust. Yet Mr Hammond was charged with treason, and the Ligatus had to be retrieved.

She wet her lips. ‘Lowry does not want money.’

‘What does he want then?’ Pike studied her, a glimmer of comprehension dawning in his face. ‘What does he want, Lady Helen?’

It felt as if someone else was saying the irretrievable words. ‘He wants to be my Terrene. He wants his powers back.’

‘Ah.’ Pike gave a dry laugh. ‘Now it makes sense. Why you have not made the exchange.’ He shook his head. ‘A woman’s mind. You would endanger the whole world because you are too fine to take Lowry as your Terrene.’

‘You know what he is.’ She touched the bruise on her mouth.

Pike’s stare did not falter. ‘He is an experienced Terrene, and he has the Ligatus. I know he is a foul man, but then this is a foul world and you have chosen to serve it. Make the deal, Lady Helen. Redeem yourself as a Reclaimer. Save yourself and Hammond.’ He leaned in, his face so close that she could see the red tracing of vessels in his narrowed eyes. ‘Make no mistake: a Reclaimer who cannot be trusted to carry out his or her duties, who has no loyalty to King and country, is worth nothing to the Dark Days Club. Less than nothing. They are a liability.’

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