My Lady's Choosing: An Interactive Romance Novel(69)

“Excuse me, Farouk,” she says primly, and then guides you around the hulking mass of a man.

Once out of earshot, she turns and whispers into your ear, her full lips so tantalizingly close you can feel her gentle breath. “One of Kamal’s guards. I can’t say I’ve ever trusted him, but I suppose he’s useful for scaring off the worst of what Cairo has to offer.” She throws another glance over her shoulder at the glowering brute. “Not that it did much good last night.”

Warily, you look back at the man, who is staring at you in a manner that makes you feel as though he can see through to your very soul. Before you can ponder what this means, Lady Evangeline throws open the study door.

“Well, my dear,” she says. “Shall we begin?”





Turn to this page.





You depart for the loch that night. Alone, as instructed.

The chill air makes a fine companion for your uneasy mood. You wrap your shawl tighter and reach the shores of the loch just as a shadowy figure rises you greet you. The clouds clear and you see…

“Abercrombie?”

The sweet old man looks uncharacteristically menacing in the moonlight. “I see ye got my letter, lass.” His usual light tone is now a growl. The moonlight catches on something, and for a moment your heart stops. There, glinting in the darkness, is Abercrombie’s pistol. And it is pointed at you.

“I hate to do this, lass,” he continues. “I do like ye. But ye are much too fond of getting too close to the truth.”

“Constantina…,” you breathe.

“A fine woman, aye. Always goin’ on about her wee bonnie Ollie and the life they’d make together. Stuff and nonsense.” Abercrombie cocks the pistol. “She didn’t know that spies don’t live to love. They live to die.”

“She wasn’t the mole, then?” you ask. Your eyes dart around in search of a weapon, a path, anything to aid in your escape. Abercrombie snickers at your frantic display.

“O’course not. I was the mole, she was merely my conduit. That’s why the lass turned on Mac, who was clueless to all of it. He thought she was tipsy and needed warnin’ away from the nest o’ French, when really she needed to get close enough to pass them information. She went for him to save her skin but got herself killed in the process, the foolish bitch.”

You cringe.

“Ye and wee Angus are two peas in a damn pod, ye ken? Each always sticking your nose in everybody’s business, when ye should be minding your own. Now,” he sighs, “I’m going to kill ye. How ye’ve been whoring yourself out to him—even the actual whores with ye haven’t dared…” Abercrombie snickers, and cocks the pistol. “Everyone will believe when I say Mac’s the one who done it.”

“You’re a monster!” you cry. Abercrombie narrows his eyes at you.

“This was all for the money, love,” he says. “Fat lot of good it did, since ye started looking through my papers and I’ve had to burn them—yes, the papers I needed to get the fortune I’m owed! I inherit a crumbling estate, and not a penny with it. What was I meant to do?!”

“Not betray your country!” says a booming voice. Mac emerges from the shadows and throws his powerful arms around you.

Abercrombie laughs bitterly. “Perfect! A murder-suicide, right by a romantic loch! No doubt the villagers will start saying it is haunted!”

“By you!” A pistol-wielding Ollie leaps up from yet other dark shadows. “You betrayed us. Constantina betrayed us.”

“All’s unfair in love and war,” Abercrombie retorts.

“Now I have nothing to live for,” Ollie continues, his pistol trembling. “I have nothing to lose.”

His wild eyes grow clear, and he levels his gun at Abercrombie’s heart. Mac releases you, which causes only momentary disappointment, as he is trying to prevent a murder.

“Careful, man,” he says. “Dinnae do something ye’ll regret.”

“Shut yer infernal take-charge mouth, laddie. I’ll kill ye all!”

“No you bloody well won’t!” screams a high-pitched cockney voice. Out of yet another part of the shadows come Timmy, Dodger, the rest of the kids, Mrs. Ferguson, Fiona and her husband, Rose and Gertie, and literally all the villagers.

“How?!” Abercrombie blusters.

“Allow me to explain,” you say calmly. “You thought you were setting a trap for me. However, it was I who set a trap for you.”

The burliest villagers grab Abercrombie’s arms to lead him away, but with a quick twist of the arm, he escapes—until Dodger leaps forward with a snarl and pins him down.

“Dodger, yes!” you shout. The thwarted Abercrombie curses your name to the night sky.

Mac grins. “Good boy.”





Turn to this page.





You are overwhelmed by the sheer expanse of Hopesend, as well as by the fact that most of its halls and great rooms are decorated with portraits of an ethereally beautiful woman with raven locks and a devious look. You are certain these are depictions of the late Lady Craven, and despite your confidence in your own personality and good looks, you know your beauty cannot compare to her mysterious, commanding, dead-as-a-doornail brand of it.