“What is the truth of Helena Rowe?”
Helena jumped and dropped her purse on the floor. Gasping, she dropped to her knees and scraped the coins toward her, her wild eyes frantically searching the rug for shiny metal circles.
Once she collected all the coins, she rose, placed the reticule on the table, and straightened her skirts. After a minute of fussing, she raised her gaze to Miss Drummond, who stood on the opposite side of the table, her narrowed eyes locked on Helena.
“My apologies,” Helena said, unable to hear herself over the hum of her rapidly racing heart. “I didn’t hear your question. Would you repeat yourself?”
“I asked,” Miss Drummond said, taking a step closer, “what is the truth of Helena Rowe?”
Where had she heard that phrase before? Frowning, Helena cycled through her memories of the evening. Why did those words sound familiar?
Miss Drummond edged closer. “I know.”
“The truth?” Helena swallowed. “About what?”
“About you…” Miss Drummond tilted her head. “Eveline Braddock.”
“N—”
“Don’t lie to me!” She slammed her palm on the table, drawing the attention of Miss Wilmington and her mother, who were conversing with Miss Webb at a nearby table.
“What do you want?” Helena asked, her eyes flicking to the sack of coins on the table.
“One hundred pounds at midnight,” Miss Drummond said, tilting her head. “Just as I requested.”
“You?” Helena’s jaw dropped. “You wrote the letter? How did you know who I was?”
“I saw you.” Miss Drummond sneered, her nose wrinkling as she glowered at Helena. “Strolling down the street as though you hadn’t run from my brother and destroyed both our lives.”
“But my hair…” Helena twisted a loose red strand around her finger.
“I admit the color had me confused, but then I heard you speak,”—she gestured at Helena with a flourish of her hand—“and that convinced me.”
“Did you also leave the bouquet of lavender?”
Please tell me it was you and not your brother. I have nowhere to go.
“Why would I leave you favors?” Miss Drummond snorted. “I expect full payment this evening, or tomorrow, I’ll not only reveal your true identity to your new friends, but I’ll also write to Humphrey and tell him exactly where to find his missing fiancée.”
“I ended the engagement,” Helena hissed, bringing herself within inches of Miss Drummond’s face.
“Did you return the ring?” Miss Drummond jutted out her chin.
A thunderous explosion echoed through the foyer as though the devil were beating down the outer door.
It couldn’t be Humphrey. Unless Miss Drummond lied, and she’d already informed her brother of Helena’s whereabouts.
Trembling, Helena offered Miss Drummond a hasty curtsy, skirted around the vile woman, and hurried toward the parlor’s exit, every footstep bringing renewed dread.
What would she say to Humphrey?
Forgive me for disappearing with a family heirloom, but I couldn’t marry a violent brute such as you, and my brother wouldn’t listen to my concerns, so I decided living as a spinster was a better option than dying as your wife.
He’d squeeze the life from her body before she managed to call for help.
“Is something wrong?” Mrs. Hawkins asked as the image of Humphrey’s red face, twisted into a terrifying snarl, faded from Helena’s mind.
She bustled around Helena’s frozen body, grasped the door handle, and opened the door before Helena could protest. Six men fell into the foyer.
