Page 101 of Seduced By a Scoundrel

Chapter Twenty-Five

It happened too fast.

One moment Sybil was enjoying the commotion of the ball, the quiet of the balcony at her back, and the next something sharp pieced her side, through her stays. A familiar voice hissed in her ear. “You’ve ruined everything.”

She froze. “Victor?”

“Why couldn’t you leave well enough alone?”

Keir was already filling the doorway, cold, lethal rage simmering in his green eyes. “Get away from her, Bailey.”

“No.” Victor kept talking to her, the knifepoint unwavering. She would not be able to move fast enough, could not strike down at his kneecap or back with her elbow without first being gutted. Her pulse pounded hard in her ears, in her throat. “You owe me, Sybil,” he continued. “You’ve ruined it all—the least you could do is give me your dowry.”

“I’m not marrying you,” she scoffed. She knew Priya would have used a sharp, rational tone. Sybil found she did not have one in her at the moment.

“You should have left us alone.”

“You should have left us alone,” she corrected him, now annoyed as well as frightened.

The dagger bit a little deeper, just enough to bring blood to the surface, welling through the fabric of her gown.

“Bailey.” Keir had never sounded so arctic and vicious. So terrifying. Even Victor swallowed hard. “You’re cornered. You may as well stop while you have a chance at keeping all of your limbs intact.”

“I can’t,” Victor said. “It’s too late for that. And it’s all your fault, Sybil. You and those dammed Spinsters. We had to do something.” He did not sound frantic or unwell. Only resolute, utterly focused. Unfortunately. “You shot Grant and scared some of the others.” Now he sounded disgusted. “It’s unraveling.”

Some of the other pieces of the puzzle clicked.

“Lord Grant was never in charge, was he? You were Minos.” He was the member who had moved quietly through the shock after the shooting. He was the one who had stabbed that man. Everything else was misdirection. Clever.

Irritating, but clever.

“And you were Singleton. It took me some time to figure that one out. Did you know that Portsmouth was my distant cousin?”

“He was?” Sybil frowned. “What has that to do with anything?”

“I was to inherit until your lot found him out and the title was forfeited.”

“He was a murderer.”

“I needed the estate.”

Sybil rolled her eyes, even with a knife too close to her kidney. “I am sure we shall all weep ourselves to sleep over your misfortune.” She struggled a little, testing his grip. She yelped at the pain in her side. He was stronger than he appeared.

“Sybil,” Keir said. Whatever he could see in Victor’s expression that she could not at her angle had him going very still.

“Victor, this is fruitless. You can’t marry me for my dowry.” And dump her body in the Thames afterward, no doubt.

“Just shut up and let me think.”

“You’re out of options,” Keir said with quiet, pointed wrath. “I married her just this morning,” he added.

Victor frowned. “You’re lying.”

He wasn’t. Their wedding had taken place in Priya’s greenhouse along the lemon trees and the lilacs, attended by their families and the Spinsters. They served plum cake afterward. It was small, simple. Perfect.

The honeymoon, however, was off to a dramatic start.

“You threatened a woman, Bailey,” Keir snapped. “And a marchioness.” There were penalties for threatening the peerage. “Worse, you threatened my wife.”