Page 37 of Kiss a Rake at Midnight

Fletcher?

LadyHuxley laughed, a maniacal cackle that turned Siobhan’s blood to ice in her veins as she lifted her skirts, prepared to tear down the passageway.

Whatif the fire spread to De la Chance?

Oh, God. Please.

Itmight already be too late for Fletcher, the club, her sister, and her brother.

Awail nearly tore from Siobhan’s tight throat.

Sheonly made it three steps before a large hand clamped onto her arm, jerking her to such an abrupt halt her teeth clattered together, and her neck snapped backward.

“Let me go.” Siobhan yanked ineffectively at the steely grip bruising her arm as the viscountess’s henchman dragged her toward the crazed woman. “We need to leave at once. Didn’t you hear? There’s a fire.”

I must get Paddy and Kimber out.

Stillwearing that insane smile, the viscountess pressed the secret door’s hidden latch, and the door creaked open a couple of inches.

Terrormomentarily stalled Siobhan’s heart.

LadyHuxley knew about the secret passage.

Buthow?

“Oh, rest assured. I’ll be leaving in good time.” Releasing a dramatic sigh, LadyHuxley flung an arm across her ample bosom. “You, however, will tragically be lost in the fire. As will Fletcher and this miserable club.”

Reneweddread slammed into Siobhan.

Shemight be small, but by all that was holy, she wouldn’t concede without a fight.

Shedug in her heels, not that it did much good. The ogre towing her along was at least a foot and a half taller and double her weight. Nevertheless, she renewed her struggles. “I shan’t go with you.”

“I beg to differ.” A snide smile quirked the viscountess’s mouth upward, and madness glittered in her eyes. Pulling a small, ornate pocket pistol from her reticule, she toed the door open further with her beaded crimson slipper.

Justinside the threshold, Fletcher lay unconscious on the floor, a wicked-looking cut lashing his cheek and another splitting his lip.

No. No.

Please don’t let him be dead. Please.

Paleas milk, he lay perfectly still.

Siobhancouldn’t detect the rise and fall of his chest, and anguish eviscerated her.

He cannot be dead. He cannot.

Insidethe dimly lit passageway, a pistol tucked into his waistband, Chandler appeared as smug as a cat with a fresh bowl of cream as he stood beside the other henchman.

“Traitor,” Siobhan hissed. “How could you?”

“For her and money, of course.” Grinning, Chandler shrugged. “I can retire with Samantha in style now—someplace warm and away from this stinking, dreary city. No more groveling for the likes of Westbrook, Huxley, or the myriad of privileged sots who look down their noses or ignore me.”

Histone became increasingly clipped and ominous with each syllable as he no longer attempted to hide his hatred and animosity.

“Yes, yes, darling. You shall have your revenge.” LadyHuxley soothed him like one would an irascible child. “Didn’tI promise you when you agreed to help me, dearest?”

Insanityflashed in Chandler’s eyes and contorted his features.