Zoë Archer - Sweet Revenge

“Now he has,” Lazarus said, shaking his head. “Jesus.”

“Could have been done by one of his bodyguards,” Simon suggested.

“Thugs would beat a man to death, not use a blade,” Jack said. “If it came to it, a bodyguard would shoot a man. We don’t go for knives. But Rockley,” he added with a snarl, “he’s fond of ’em. Seems to be his preferred way of killing.”

The truth of this sank in, and everyone looked appalled.

“He pins it on you,” Eva said, “and gets the Metropolitan Police to do his dirty work.” She picked up her teacup, then set it back down. She’d no desire for tea. Or anything else.

Marco swore in extravagant Italian, his favorite tongue for foul language. “With Gilling’s death, we’ve lost our way to strike at Rockley. Worse, security around Rockley and the evidence is going to be impenetrable. He’ll throw everything he has at keeping his person and the documentation secure.”

“This whole operation is fucked,” muttered Lazarus.

Cursing viciously, Jack spun around and threw his fist into the wall. Reverberations shook the parlor.

At that moment, the door opened to reveal a young woman in a cloak and bonnet. She stared at Jack, her eyes wide, a gloved hand raised in shock.

“Mr. Byrne downstairs recognized me and said I should go up. Perhaps,” she said weakly, “I ought to come back another time.”

Eva jumped to her feet and hurried to the girl. “No, no, please come in, Miss Jones.”

Jack pulled his fist back, revealing the hole he’d punched in the plaster, and a new web of cracks marring the wall. Despite the plaster dust coating his hand, he appeared to be fine. The wall, however, was not. He hid his hand behind his back as Miss Jones took a few tentative steps into the room.

“We’re, ah, making excellent progress on your case,” Eva said, guiding the young woman to a chair. “Might I get you a cup of tea?”

Miss Jones shook her head. “No, thank you.” She made no move to take off her bonnet or cloak. No plans to stay long. She sent Jack a few cautious glances as she sat.

“This is Mr. Dutton,” Eva said quickly. “He’s assisting us with your case.”

“That’s precisely why I’ve come.” Miss Jones picked at a loose thread on the tablecloth, studiously avoiding everyone’s eyes. Which prevented her from seeing the looks of concern shared by the Nemesis operatives.

“Are you certain you wouldn’t like some tea?” Eva pressed, knowing that the delay in fixing the girl a cup would give her time to collect herself.

“All right.” It was a capitulation, not an agreement. Though Miss Jones had come to Nemesis a somewhat timid creature, she seemed even more so now, her shoulders slumped, her hands trembling as they rested on the table. Her skin was paler, too.

Eva went into the kitchen to prepare tea. No one in the parlor spoke, and in the strained silence, it felt as though she were banging on a timpani drum rather than stirring milk into a delicate china cup. When she finally emerged from the kitchen, she set the cup down in front of Miss Jones and took a seat beside her.

The girl picked up her tea, but her hand shook so much the liquid spilled over the rim and onto the tablecloth. “I’m sorry.” She blinked back tears as she set her cup back down with a clatter.

Oh, this wasn’t good. Eva laid her hand over Miss Jones’s. “It’s all right,” she murmured.

“It isn’t!” The young woman looked martyred as she stared at Eva. “It’s terrible! Worse than terrible. Disastrous.”

“We’ll soon make everything right with Lord Rockley.” Simon gave Miss Jones a reassuring, kind smile, which only made the girl appear even more miserable.

Miss Jones took a shuddering breath, as if steadying herself, then spoke in a rush. “Whatever it is you’re doing to get me justice, however you plan on extracting recompense from Lord Rockley—I want you to stop.”

Stunned silence followed. Eva could only blink her astonishment, seeing equally baffled expressions on everyone else’s faces.

“Why?” she finally asked.

“Lord Rockley … he…” Miss Jones covered her mouth with her hand.

Rage poured through Eva. “Did he hurt you again?”

Eva’s anger must have shown in her countenance, for the girl said quickly, “Not physically, no. But,” she added, “he’s been making threats. Warning me that if I try to take any further action against him he’ll make my life even more hellish than it already is. I won’t be accepted anywhere. My father’s business will be ruined.”

“Does Rockley know about Nemesis’s involvement?” Marco asked.

The young woman shook her head. “He knows only that I’ve made allegations against him. And that I haven’t left London. Yet that is exactly what I intend to do. Leave the city. Perhaps even leave England. I just want to disappear, to bury it all.”

“You’ve spoken of this to your father?” Eva said.

“Papa thinks I’m having tea with a friend today. He’s no idea I’m here, or what I’m asking you to do. But, please,” she said, turning imploring eyes to Eva, “stop pursuing Lord Rockley. No good can come of it.”

Fury the likes of which Eva had never known surged through her. Only the presence of Miss Jones kept her from unleashing a torrent of foul language. She had a strong urge to throw her fist into the wall, just as Jack had done. What she truly wanted to do was beat Rockley into a syrup. Bad enough that he’d ruined Miss Jones, but now he intimidated and threatened her into silence.

He had the blood of at least two people on his hands. Jack’s sister, and now Gilling.

“We cannot stop,” Eva said. “Rockley must be brought down. He’ll just keep hurting more girls, girls just like you.”

“If I demand it?” Miss Jones pressed, her voice quavering.

Frustration and sympathy warred within Eva. Words tried to form, words that would give Miss Jones the necessary strength to continue in their pursuit of Rockley. But the young woman was fragile, and anything Eva could think to say might sound bullying and cause the girl to crumble even more. Judging by the silence from the other members of Nemesis, they were struggling with what to say, as well. None of them wanted to abandon the case.

Jack suddenly grabbed a chair and pulled it near Miss Jones. He turned it around to straddle the chair, bracing his arms on its back. The girl looked startled, almost ready to flee, until he gentled his expression to something verging on kindness.

“Did you have plans for yourself before this business with Rockley?” he asked.

His question caught her off guard. After a moment, she answered, “My parents wanted me to marry. They were hoping to find me a respectable tradesman and see me settled as a wife and mother.”

“And what did you want for yourself?” He asked this softly.

She cast her gaze down to the floor. “I … wanted to be a teacher. It didn’t matter to me if I married or not. But I’d hoped to find some mill town school where I could teach the children of the workers. Give them a chance at life outside of a mill. It doesn’t matter anymore.” She dabbed the corners of her eyes with her sleeve. “No one will hire a ruined girl. And now Lord Rockley threatens not only me, but my family. I’ve lost my dream, but I can’t let my parents suffer for my mistake.”

Eva’s heart contracted, feeling the sharp loss of the girl’s dream and her desire to do good.

“It wasn’t your mistake,” Jack said. “Never say that. This Nemesis lot brought me on board because I’ve got information on Rockley that no one else has.” Fortunately, he made no mention of Nemesis blackmailing him into cooperating. “More than that, I’ve got my own reason for wanting to ruin that bas—that scoundrel. He harmed someone important to me. More than harmed her. He stole her life. Killed my sister with his own hands.”