“Enough.” Sebastian scooped Cora in his arms and stalked into the apartment. He deposited her none too gently on a kitchen chair and held her in place. “Stay.”
Her chin hitched. Icy daggers shot from her eyes. “Who are you to order me about in my own home?”
“I am Sebastian Thorne. Your sister’s betrothed. And most people get to know me first before wanting to bash my head with a skillet.”
Helena came into the kitchen with Fergus trailing close behind. “We didn’t mean to frighten you. Didn’t you recognize me?”
Cora shook her head. Her face was pale and glistened in the lantern light. “I thought he sent you.”
“Who?” Sebastian asked.
Cora reared up. “How dare you try to manhandle me? Lord or no, you’ve no leave to—”
Helena shushed her. “Let’s not wake the children.”
“They could sleep through the Battle of Waterloo,” Cora said with a flip of her wrist.
Sebastian turned one of his charming smiles on Cora, although it didn’t reach his eyes like his true smiles did, and pulled the blackmail letter from his pocket. “Explain the meaning of this.”
When she didn’t take the letter, Helena did. “I will read it.” Their mother had taught them to read as young children, but Cora had always struggled with words.
Fergus held the lantern high to shine light on the page.
“Dear Lady Prestwick, unless you want everyone to know your sister is a whore and your husband won you gambling, come to the pleasure gardens at midnight tomorrow. Leave 130 pounds in a bag—”
Cora gasped. The hand covering her mouth trembled.
Helena continued. “Leave 130 pounds at the foot of the Handel statue. If you do not meet my demands, your story will be sold to the gossip rags.” Helena’s arm dropped to her side, the letter dangling from her fingers. “Cora, what do you know about this?”
She shook her head, her hand still over her mouth. “I swear, I know nothing. Where did you get it?”
“Someone delivered it to the town house while I was visiting Pearl.” Helena came closer to her sister. “You must know something. Lord St. Ambrose said you had asked Lavinia for this same amount.”
Her chest rose and fell rapidly. “This is the first time I have seen that letter. You must believe me, Helena.”
“I believe you didn’t do it,” Helena said, ignoring Sebastian’s soaring eyebrows. “But the amount is bizarre, and it happens to be the amount you need. Why 130 pounds?”
Cora’s gaze darted toward the door and landed on Fergus. He could be an intimidating presence. “I owe someone that amount.” She shifted to the edge of her chair. “Please, Helena, my husband cannot know. I made a mistake.”
“How could you possibly owe that much? Cora, are you in trouble?”
She shrugged, tears filling her eyes. She swiped at them angrily. “Mr. Zachary says he will start dragging our belongings from the apartment—the furniture, our clothes, the dishes, everything—unless I pay my debts.”
“Who is Mr. Zachary?”
Cora sniffled. “H-he runs a dice game in the alley. I’d been watching for days, figuring out the patterns. I know the dice are loaded, but I thought I could beat him.”
“Gambling?” Helena’s stomach turned and she slumped into the chair closest to her sister. “After you saw what gambling did to our family, you still bet on a game of dice?”
Cora reached for Helena, her eyes earnest. “I thought I could win. I was going to use the money to pay my bill at the dressmaker. Thomas never would have known I had charged more than I should have. Now I don’t know what I will do. My husband doesn’t have the money to pay my gambling debts. If we lose our belongings, he will be humiliated.”
Sebastian scowled. “What type of man tricks a woman into gambling and takes her money?”
“The kind that smells like fish.” Cora sniffled again and wiped her eyes with the back of her wrist. “He is a fishmonger, and I don’t think my gender matters one bit to him. He takes everyone’s money.”
The lantern flickered, casting long shadows on the walls. Helena couldn’t believe her sister would be so foolish as to follow their father’s example. Had she learned nothing from their ordeals?