Page 25 of The Forsaken

Startled, she faced the seer.

“To the viscount. I had not seen the news nor heard of any public announcement…”

The idea was so utterly preposterous, Andromena couldn’t get her tongue around any words.

“I take that as—”

“No!” She sliced the air with her hand. “You wouldn’t have heard an announcement on account there wasn’t one. There is nothing between the gentleman and me—formal, informal, or otherwise.”

The Siren hazarded an even more ridiculous possibility: “You care about one another.”

Laughter welled in her throat.

If there had ever been a doubt the woman was a fraud, this settled it.

Just like before, the Siren’s eyes possessed that wise, strange shine.

Underneath the weight of the seer’s grave look, Andromena lost her amusement.

“Shall we, Miss Smith?” The Siren signaled the smaller chair before claiming the ornate mahogany throne for herself, and dousing Andromena with the ugly reminder of why she was here—to do the bidding of a blackhearted stranger.

The Siren’s fine garments, rich rooms in Rats Castle, and knowledge of the ton revealed her deep ties to the nobility.

Andromena’s mouth tightened.

No doubt the young woman colluded with the gentleman.

“First, we have the business portion of our meeting,” the Siren said after Andromena seated herself.

“Is there any other reason I would be here?”

The young seer ignored that outburst. From out of thin air and with a sleight of hand, the Siren placed a small folded bit of parchment on the table.

The ethereal creature moved so ceaselessly between otherworldly and lady, grounded in the ton, it left Andromena spinning. Maybe that was her natural ability, one she employed to disarm her clients.

Either way, deliberate or not, it had the desired effect on Andromena. She stared at the parchment but made no move to touch it.

“I must see you open it, Miss Smith.”

A sour taste coated her tongue. “A gentleman you work with?”

“We ain’t here to talk about me.”

The slight cockney there ruined the otherwise perfect illusion the woman was of noble origins, but more, Andromena’s question ushered in a frostiness.

She made herself take the note that would have devastating implications upon her family.

She read.

Though your birthright ties you to the peerage, you and your kin are far closer to thieving, lawless pirates.

If your lineage were cleaner, I would not have hesitated to make you, my wife. I’ve even showered you with flowers.

Andromena’s mind sped through the cards she had read from bouquets that had arrived. Most were personally delivered. Others not.

Fret not. It might not be too late, dearest, Andromena.

But you will use your pirate skills for my gain. You are to obtain an antique coin. Bring it to New Bond Street, where you will meet a seller. He will accept the piece on my behalf. And then you are free to go.