Wicked Intentions (Maiden Lane #1)(98)

Lazarus looked back at Pansy. She was staring fixedly at the horror on the bed, but at his look, she jerked her chin at him. “Come downstairs. I need a cup of tea.”

She closed the door behind them, and they all tramped down the stairs silently and into her little sitting room. Pansy sat in her special chair, gesturing for Lazarus to sit opposite her.

“Tea, Jacky.” When the big man didn’t move, she nodded wearily. “It’s all right. Lord Caire won’t hurt me.”

The guard grunted and left the room.

“He was killed the same way as Marie and the other prostitutes,” Lazarus said softly. “He must have known the killer.”

“Mmm.” Pansy seemed to be in a meditative mood, her chin propped on a fist.

“Mistress Pansy.”

She sighed heavily, looking up. “Yes. Yes, of course he knew the murderer.”

Lazarus narrowed his eyes. “As do you.”

She met his gaze squarely. “As do I.”

“Who is it, Pansy?”

She held up her hand as the door opened. Jacky entered, carrying a delicate tea tray in his huge hands.

She smiled at him as he set the tray down. “Thank you, Jacky. Could you please guard the door for me?”

The big man shot a suspicious glance at Lazarus and trundled out.

Pansy waited until the door was closed. Then she looked at Lazarus. “It’s the owner of this house. She controls all the prostitutes in her little corner of St. Giles. They each must pay a portion of their earnings to her, even if it’s only a few pennies. Marie refused. And Tommy, that fool…”

She shook her head in disgust and poured herself a cup of tea.

Lazarus made himself sit patiently.

She took the full teacup, but then merely stared into the tea. “I think he tried to blackmail her. I think that’s what set her off. She was here tonight visiting Tommy, and she left in a hurry. Tommy must’ve known all along who’d killed his sister, and once you started asking questions, he figured she would pay him to keep her secret. He was pretty, but not very smart.”

Lazarus closed his eyes. He was so close. “Who, Pansy?”

“Mother Heart’s-Ease.”

His felt his pulse begin to race. Finally. “The bawd who runs the gin shop?”

Pansy’s lips twitched. “She’s much more than that. She’s the most powerful woman in this part of St. Giles. And the most dangerous. You saw Tommy. She did that in a houseful of people. She’s in a berserker rage. She’s burning her bridges behind her now.”

“But why kill Marie and the other prostitutes so dramatically?”

Pansy shrugged. “To scare away her competitors, her allies, her whores—anyone and everyone, in fact.”

He frowned. “You’re in danger.”

“She’ll kill me afore the sennight’s out, I think,” Pansy said dispassionately, and finally took a sip of her tea. “Me and whoever else she thinks has betrayed her or stands in her way. You’d better watch your step as well. She’s already killed Tommy to keep him from talking to you—and to Mrs. Dews.”

Lazarus raised his eyebrows, his alarm growing. “Mrs. Dews?”

Pansy set her teacup carefully on the tray. “I think Mother Heart’s-Ease sees Mrs. Dews as a sort of rival for control of St. Giles. She doesn’t like that Mrs. Dews rescues the children Mother Heart’s-Ease would rather sell—or whore out.”

“You think she’ll go after Temperance Dews?”

“She already has.”

“What?” Lazarus felt his muscles tighten in alarm.

Pansy looked at him with a terrible fatalistic tragedy in her eyes. “One of the girls here brought in a lass tonight—the one Mrs. Dews dotes on.”

“Mary Whitsun.”

“Yes. Mother Heart’s-Ease took the girl with her when she left.”

Lazarus sprang to his feet, dashing to the door as Pansy’s last words floated after him.

“And I think Mother Heart’s-Ease means to strike at Mrs. Dews through the girl.”

Chapter Nineteen

“What you feel is the sorrow of loss,” Meg said. “What you feel is love. And,” she continued as the little blue bird flew back in the room and lit on the king’s hand, “that is love also.”

“I do not understand,” the king said.

“What do you feel now?” Meg asked.

King Lockedheart frowned as he gently stroked the little bird’s head. “Joy. Happiness.”

“That is the joy of love.” Meg smiled. “To experience your love for the bird, you must be willing to let her go. And in exchange, the bird displays her love for you by returning.”…

—from King Lockedheart

Dear God.

Temperance felt her knees give way in horror. Not Mary Whitsun. Not her darling Mary Whitsun.

She felt Nell wrap an arm around her to brace her. Lady Hero was looking concerned. Mr. St. John ushered Lady Caire and her escort in and after a brief word with Winter, shot Temperance a grave look before showing the lady up the stairs. Winter took the rest of them into the kitchen. Temperance sank into a chair. She needed to rescue Mary, but how could she when they didn’t even know where Mary had gone?

“We need to search for her,” Winter was saying. “Where was the baby Mary was fetching?”