Support of Broderick and Stephen came from the likeliest of their sisters. “That is it?” Ophelia shot back. “That is all you’d say. Damn it, Cleo, the evidence is here before our eyes.”
“Do not forgive a man who’s betrayed you.” Broderick tossed that lesson doled out by Diggory long ago at them. It had guided them all. “Not unless you wish to be destroyed.”
“If you live the whole of your life by the code of a killer, then you’re no different than him,” Cleo said quietly.
He flinched. “I’m not debating Miss Spark’s duplicity.”
“Nor should you have to,” Ophelia piped in. Her face crumpled. “Why? Why would she do this?”
Hers was an echo of the very same question that had haunted him since the discovery of Reggie’s betrayal. He’d called her a friend, that relationship a rarity in the Dials. Only Reggie had proven it was something more. “As Stephen said . . . greed. Power.”
Cleo exploded to her feet. “Bloody rubbish,” she shouted, slamming her fist down on his desk.
The crystal inkwells rattled under the force of that strike.
His sisters began speaking over one another, the room filled with angry charges, questions, and insults.
This was what Reggie had wrought, as well. Strife within the Killoran ranks, when their family had already been torn asunder and was about to be shredded even further by Maddock.
Fishing a cheroot and match out of his jacket, he lit the thin scrap and took a much-needed draw.
You only partake in those scraps when you’re troubled . . .
His fingers clenched reflexively about the cheroot as Reggie’s soft, lyrical voice floated forward in his mind. She’d gathered his weaknesses over the years. She’d revealed as much when he’d confided in her the truth about Stephen. He’d been too bloody blind to realize all the ways in which he’d proven himself . . . human with Reggie Spark. She knew his weaknesses. She knew the darkest secret about his family.
And she could use it all against him. Now. In the future. When he wasn’t expecting it. The day he eventually freed her of her obligations, the threat she posed would always be there. Lingering.
Christ.
He inhaled deep of his smoke. “Enough,” he said around a perfect circle of smoke. When Cleo and Ophelia continued going toe to toe, he raised his voice. “I said, enough.”
That managed to silence them.
“I’m not looking to debate the reasons or possible reasons or invented excuses to justify Reggie Spark’s actions. The papers I saw with my own eyes”—he waved his cheroot—“speak for themselves.”
Through it all, Gertrude had remained silent. At last, she spoke. “That is why you’ve forced her into the role of my companion? Because you fear she’ll be disloyal to us.”
“She’s already been disloyal,” Ophelia said gently.
Gertrude scowled. “Don’t patronize me. Surely we cannot simply overlook a lifetime of friendship because she wants a business of her own?”
“I made the mistake of confiding in her the circumstances surrounding Stephen.” Silence met Broderick’s damning admission. “Reggie is the only one outside our immediate kin”—he spared a glance for Ophelia—“and O’Roarke to know the truth.” Reggie had in her hands information that could bring him, his family, and their empire crumbling down about them.
Ophelia cursed.
“Surely you aren’t implying that she would use that information to harm us?” Cleo asked, directing her gaze about the family.
He flicked the ashes of his cheroot into a nearby crystal tray and then took another pull. The smoke filled his lungs, doing little to calm him. “I’ve shared what I have this morn so you’re aware about Reggie’s altered role within the family. In the past, we’ve shared all. Now, I warn you to reveal nothing. She is . . . a prisoner, and nothing more.”
“That is a bit harsh, is it not?” Gertrude scolded.
“It’s not,” he clarified for the most innocent of his siblings. “It’s practical.” When Gertrude’s future was settled, Broderick would free Reggie. But he would not barter his siblings’ security on her loyalty. And particularly not when she’d already given him reason to mistrust her.
Cleo folded her arms before her. “No.”
Of all the siblings he’d expected that denial from, the last would have ever been Cleo.
He dusted his spare hand over his eyes. “You’d never let the matter be this simple,” he muttered.
“No, I wouldn’t. In the event you’ve forgotten, let me remind you. The fate and future of our staff is decided . . . by all of us. You do not get to make decisions about the Devil’s Den. Not without a vote. Sack her or keep her on.”
“This isn’t a damned matter of staffing.” Broderick jammed the tip of his cheroot in the crystal tray. “This is not a vote on employment,” he barked, tossing aside the scrap. She’d used the existing code they’d employed years earlier when going through Diggory’s former staff and determining who remained on in their posts.
Cleo shrugged. “She’s employed by the Devil’s Den. I vote to send her away.”
“You’d sack her so Broderick can’t keep her as a prisoner,” Ophelia charged.
“That’s right. I would never support making Reggie remain on in that way. And if you’ve a problem with it, then show it in your vote,” Cleo said with a calm that silenced her sister. Holding Broderick’s gaze, she lifted her palm. “Who votes to send Reggie Spark away?”
Stephen darted his fingers up, waggling them for effect. “I say we’re better off with her gone. Don’t trust having her around. I caught her snooping after me.”
“Because you gave her reason to,” Gertrude chided. “You were supposed to be making up your lessons that night”—Stephen shot a foot out, catching his eldest sister in the shins—“Oomph.”
“Enough,” Cleo clipped out. “We are talking about Reggie’s future.” She looked around at her siblings. “What is it to be, Ophelia?”
Ophelia looked away.
“Ophelia?” Cleo whispered, shock in that query.
“It’s not forever,” their sister explained, a defensive edge to her tone. “Only until . . . this is settled.”
Not allowing Cleo to press her further, Broderick put the question to the room: “Who votes to keep her on as Gertrude’s companion?” He lifted a hand.
Ophelia hesitated, then added her vote to his. “I don’t disagree with Broderick,” she said quietly. “Even if there are reasons behind Reggie’s decisions and actions, as Cleo suggests, Reggie has given grounds for us to be cautious. And given our family’s circumstances?” She shook her head. “I’d not begrudge him for monitoring her movements.”
“Gertrude?” Broderick prodded when she still did not vote. “Well? Out with it.”
Gertrude frowned. “I haven’t said anything.” No, she’d always sat as a silent observer, taking everything in and measuring her words. She had also long been the moderating voice of the Killoran sisters.
“I know. That’s why I want to hear from you.”
Gertrude’s gaze grew contemplative. “Reggie isn’t one driven by greed or jealousy.”
“Everyone is driven by greed.”
“I’m not,” Gertrude pointed out.
His mouth turned up in one corner. “No,” he said quietly to himself. “You aren’t.” The most selfless of the Killorans, she’d care for a rat in their alley with the same attention as she would a servant or sister at the Devil’s Den. His smile fell. “What is your opinion?”
“I don’t know why she’s done what she’s done. But we all have our secrets.” She glanced around, touching her gaze on each sibling. “All of us.” Her eyes darkened, and under the desk Broderick tightened his hands into fists. What other demons did she carry? What other ghosts haunted all of his siblings? Once again confronted with his own failings, he felt regret swell in his chest. Gertrude went on. “She’s been part of this family even longer than Stephen, and I have to believe there is a reason she did what she did. But I have to agree it is wise to keep her close,” she said, her voice falling to a whisper. She slowly crept her fingers up, joining Broderick and Ophelia.
“Gertrude!” Cleo cried.
“It is settled then,” Broderick announced over that explosion. “Reggie remains on staff.” As a prisoner.