Chapter 27

The sack wasn't removed from Emmaline's head until she found herself in a dark dank room, the walls and floor made of stone but otherwise bare.

Standing over her was the unmistakable, imposing Tiny, arms crossed and expression unreadable. Someone else stood behind Emmaline, hand on her shoulder, but she did not dare to look away from Tiny.

"You can't do this!" she snapped at him, determined not to show just how scared she was. She had learned from the club well enough, those that acted cowardly were always the first to be picked off in the violence. "You can't just kidnap ladies out of their own gardens!"

Tiny remained unmoved, unspeaking, still as stone.

"Don't waste your breath, sweetheart."

The voice was all too familiar, but it was by far a relief to the one she had heard in the carriage. That was until she realized what hearing that voice down here meant.

"Papa!" Emmaline screamed.

She tried to get up from her chair and move toward the voice but the hand on her shoulder pinned her back down.

All she could do was turn her head to find her father cowering in the corner of the cellar. A dark crust of blood smeared his face.

"What did you do to him?" Emmaline demanded. Rage overwhelmed her then and she flung herself out from beneath the hand, rushing at Tiny. It was likely a feat never before seen in a lady of the ton and it only amused Tiny.

She had never seen him laugh before. The sound was grotesque, and it made her stumble back into her seat when he stepped towards her.

"You know, I can see why my nephew likes you."

The voice was almost as gruesome as Tiny's laughter. The sound of footsteps creaked on what she guessed was a wooden staircase behind her.

She tried to look around but the man behind her grabbed her head and forced her to look straight. Still, she knew who was coming down those stairs.

"Then you also know he is going to come for me!" Emmaline snapped, balling her hands into fists at her sides. She was lying through her teeth. If her father was right, Alex was just as much a part of this as Tiny and the man holding her down.

Frederick stepped into view then, his face a mask of pure delight. Emmaline fought nausea as he leaned down and gripped hold of her chin, forcing him to look at her. "You are a feisty, handsome little thing."

Emmaline didn't think. She just acted, lunging with bared teeth for the man's hand. Somehow, she had to get herself and her father out of this.

Frederick snatched his hand out of the way before she could latch on, laughing haughtily. He turned to Tiny and commented, "The devil bitch has bite. Pity she is already soiled, or I might have made her my own duchess."

Emmaline gagged at that.

He turned back to her then and added, "It's such a shame you didn't come along after I had taken everything from my nephew."

Emmaline's blood ran cold. The confusion was clear on her face as he added, "What, you didn't think I'd let that little miscreant keep what should have always been mine, did you?"

"Yours?" Emmaline exclaimed. "How could it have been yours? Alex is the heir!"

It was in that moment that the realization came to her. Alex wasn't a part of this. He was just as much a victim as she.

"It was you!" she accused. "You forged the letter!"

"Quick as well as feisty and handsome," Frederick said, clucking his tongue against his teeth. "Such a terrible shame Tiny shall have to dispose of you once this is all over."

"Di…dispose of me?" Emmaline gulped.

"Don't listen to him, Emmaline!" her father cried. "Don't let him get to you. Help will come. Your husband will come. I was wrong. He is not the devil. He could never be the devil. Not when this beast lives!"

"Tiny, do the honors and shut him up," Frederick ordered, inclining his head toward her father without taking his eyes off her.

Without a sound, Tiny turned and walked toward her father.

"Don't touch him!" Emmaline screamed. "Don't you d—"

She was cut off by the gasp and following grunt of her father as Tiny's heavy boot hit him in the abdomen.

"Papa!" she cried again.

"Don't fear for me, child," her father groaned, blood already dripping from the corner of his lips.

"Again!" Frederick snarled and before Emmaline could protest Tiny kicked him again.

"Why? Why are you doing this? We have done nothing to you!" Emmaline screamed at Frederick, hoping he could see the hatred that seethed beneath the surface of her irises.

"Isn't it obvious?" Frederick asked. He gave a swift gesture of his head and the man who had been standing behind her moved to pull another chair around.

Frederick flopped down on it in front of her and added, "I am doing this because I can. I am doing this because I am the rightful duke. I put my brother up on his high horse. I helped him build the club and the other business besides. I was the one always taking the pound of flesh, doing all of the dirty work while he reaped all of the reward and then, when he died who should it fall to but his sniveling weakling of a son!"

"Alex is more of a man than you will ever be!" Emmaline ground out through gritted teeth.

Quick as a snake, Frederick lashed out a foot and stomped the heel of his boot down on the top of Emmaline's foot, causing her to cry out in agony.

"Don't! Please, don't hurt her! She's just a girl!" her father cried only to receive another boot for his troubles.

Pulling her foot in beneath her, Emmaline glowered hatred at the man before her, biting her tongue to stop from whimpering in continued pain. Her foot throbbed with agony, but she would not allow him to see. She knew what happened to those who showed weakness.

"You are right," she ground out, "You are the true devil."

That only seemed to please him. "You truly are a smart girl. Perhaps if you can promise me you will be a good girl for this next part, I will let you live. You are a good girl, aren't you?"

He leaned forward and stroked her cheek. The sensation was akin to being stroked by a reptile, his hand cold and clammy.

His breath reeked of liquor, so rancid it made Emmaline gag. She did not speak, only met his gaze without flinching.

"If only my brother had listened," Frederick sighed. "If only he had given me what I asked for and promised me the club. I might have been happy with that. It would have been my own little kingdom."

Emmaline suspected that was true, for a time at least, but this man was green with greed. As he glowered at her, he barely looked human in the dim light of the cellar with its sparse amount of candles.

"Wha…what is that supposed to mean?" she asked, the feeling in her gut making her feel as though she could barely contain the contents of her stomach. Luckily, that was very little as she had been unable to eat more than a mouthful or two since the Tillington's ball.

"Didn't Alex ever tell you about the accident?" Frederick asked. "The fire?"

"Of… of course he did. What does that have to do with anything?"

Frederick leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands over his pot-belly stomach.

"You didn't honestly think it was an accident, did you?" Frederick asked, laughing so loudly it almost burst Emmaline's eardrums as it bounced off the stone walls, "How I ever avoided total suspicion, I do not know! I must simply be a genius!"