Her chest squeezed.
In all the exchanges she’d had with Miss Drummond, Helena knew the woman to be deceptive, calculating, and cruel—the actual reason Miss Drummond failed to hold on to a suitor, despite her claims that Helena’s brother had a hand in their sudden disinterest.
She wouldn’t accept any excuse for the shortage… unless Helena appealed to Miss Drummond’s materialistic desires.
Nodding her head once, Helena folded the corners of the napkin together, tied them into a sturdy knot, and tugged the top to ensure no coins would tumble out. Then she crept to the doorway and peered around the side, ensuring the foyer was empty before hastening over to the front door.
After unlatching the lock, Helena opened the door and shivered. Leaning around the edge of the door, she pulled her fur-lined pelisse from a nearby coat rack, then darted outside, shutting the door behind herself with a light click. As she shoved her arms into the coat, she strolled toward the snow-covered garden, her gaze sweeping back and forth over the grounds.
A voice crawled out of the darkness. “I didn’t expect you to follow through with my demand.”
Helena’s hand—holding the makeshift sack of coins—flew to her mouth, stifling a squeak, and she spun around. “Miss Drummond? Is that you?”
“We’ve known each other quite some time now,” Miss Drummond said, appearing from the shadows. “You may use my given name.”
Helena shook her head. “We’ve only just been introduced, Miss Drummond.”
“As you wish.” Miss Drummond bared her teeth and held out her hand.
“It’s not quite the full amount,” said Helena, setting the napkin in Miss Drummond’s open palm. “However…”
The soft flickering light of a candle appeared in one of the second-floor chamber windows, drawing Helena’s attention. Aside from Mrs. Hawkins, who would be awake at this hour?
“However?” Miss Drummond pressed as she picked at the knot in the napkin.
“I’ll have the full amount to you?—”
“Double.”
“Double the balance I owe?—”
Miss Drummond shook her head. “Double the amount I originally requested.”
“That means I need to give you one hundred and ten pounds more!”
“Yes, it does.” Miss Drummond tilted her head. “Unless you wish me to write Humphrey and convince him Wiltshire would be quite a diverting adventure for him. He could be here in just a few days.”
Helena paled. “No, please.”
“Then, we’re agreed. One hundred and ten pounds tomorrow morning, or not only do I tell Humphrey where to find you, but I also report to the society papers that Miss Helena Rowe is actually Miss Eveline Braddock, runaway fiancée and wanted thief.”
“I am not a thief,” Helena growled, taking a step toward Miss Drummond.
“You kept the ring my brother gave you,” retorted Miss Drummond, a sneer hovering on her lips.
“Humphrey refused to accept it.” Helena glanced at the second floor again, relieved the light extinguished itself. “He laughed when I tried to end our engagement.”
Miss Drummond chuckled. “That’s Humphrey. Once he sets his mind to something…”
“I’m not something.” Helena stretched herself tall. “I am a person, not a possession, and I deserve to be treated as such.”
“I don’t care what you are, as long as you’re faithful with your payment.” Miss Drummond tucked the napkin of coins into her reticule, adding a haughty sniff, “I’ll expect you to call upon me tomorrow morning. If I have to return here, it will be with my brother.”
A shiver raced down Helena’s spine as though an icicle had fallen from the roof and slithered its way beneath the collar of her pelisse. “I understand.”
“Excellent.” Miss Drummond nodded toward the house. “If you’re lacking ideas on how to raise the amount, may I suggest your guests?”
“Miss Webb and her sister don’t have excess funds, either,” Helena replied, her eyebrows pulling together.
