Tangled Webs (33 page)

Arista smiled. She knew he’d ask—would have been disappointed if he had not. Men like him always wanted proof. She reached into the inside pocket of her jacket and took out a folded
piece of parchment.

Wild immediately snatched it from her grasp, and she noticed how his face turned a shade paler. It should. The list of names and addresses and items, printed clearly in neat rows, detailed
exactly what Wild had stolen from each house. And how much the owners had paid to get it all back—in reward money, of course.

“Very nice of you to keep such meticulous records of your crimes,” Grae said. Arista tried not to laugh. Wild crumpled the paper in his fist and glared at her.

“I have the rest of the ledger somewhere safe,” she said. “Now, what do you have for me?” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a thin stack of papers, tied together
with butcher’s string. The rest of the secrets that Nic had stolen from Bones.

They would meet the same fate as the ones had Nic left for her, and be returned to their owners. Arista took the packet from Wild and pushed her chair back. “I expect the other terms of
this deal to be implemented without delay. I’ll wait for word that everything is in order.” The sum she demanded was more than they needed, but Wild had the money, and she wanted to
make sure that he paid for the pain and suffering he’d caused.

Wild glared at her, and she had no doubt he was contemplating sticking a dagger through her heart right there in the coffeehouse. But he wouldn’t dare. Without the upper hand, he was a
coward.

“If you think to double-cross me, don’t,” she said. “The information I have is in very capable hands, and if anything happens to me, it will be posted on the front page
of the
Spectator
. Are we clear?” Wild didn’t answer, but his clenched fists and hard jaw said it all. He would cooperate. He knew he had no choice.

“It’s been a pleasure doing business,” Arista said with a big smile. She closed her eyes for a brief moment.
Thank you, Nic. You did set me free, after all.

Wild stood and pushed back the chair so hard, it almost tipped over. He left without a second glance. Only then did Arista dare to exhale. “We did it.”

“I would love to show you how happy that makes me,” Grae said, “but we may raise a few eyebrows, even in this tolerant atmosphere.” Laughter danced in his eyes.

Arista smiled back—a real smile. A happy smile.

“So, are you ready for this?” Grae asked.

Arista took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes.”

They stood and went outside to where Tomas waited with the carriage. “All set, miss?” He already knew where to go. Arista gripped Grae’s hand and nodded again. He squeezed it
back, and she took some of the strength he offered. It was strange to rely on someone else, yet at the same time, she couldn’t imagine him not being there.

Tomas guided the horse through the crowded streets with precision and skill, and soon they were back at Grae’s home. Arista changed quickly, and soon they were off again. It was not long
after that that Tomas slowed the carriage to a stop in front of an iron gate. The sign read
CROSSING ROADS CEMETERY
.

Grae got out first and helped her down. She still had to be careful until Wild cleared her of murder, but not many people knew that she had escaped from Newgate. The ones who did would not turn
her in—either out of love or fear.

“Would you wait here?” she asked Grae, half expecting him to argue. He had barely let her out of his sight to sleep.

“Of course.” He crossed his arms and leaned back against the carriage. “Take all the time you need.”

She couldn’t thank him enough, for this and for making sure that Nic wasn’t thrown into an unmarked pauper’s grave. He’d made sure that Nic had a proper spot, with a
simple stone to mark it.

“Here are the flowers you asked for, miss.” Tomas handed her a large bouquet of daisies.

“Thank you, Tomas.”

A groundskeeper directed her to where Nic had been buried. The mound of fresh dirt made the tears flow again. She’d cried more in the past few days than she had in her whole life. She ran
her fingers over the three letters carved on the stone:

NIC

That was all she had known him as. None of them had ever had a last name.

Tears dripped off her chin and fell into the dirt below as she laid the flowers down. Nic would have hated getting flowers. She thought of the face he would have made, and smiled. “Thank
you, Nic.”

She took out the letter that she’d found wrapped in the papers Nic had stolen from Wild. She smoothed the paper and stared down at the crudely written words.

She brushed the tears from her cheeks and took a ragged breath. “There was a girl in Newgate that reminded me of myself. Except she didn’t have anyone to watch out for her, like I
had you. Her name is Grace, and I paid for her freedom. She’s with the Sinclairs as a kitchen helper. She won’t ever have to live the kind of life we did. I know she’s just one of
too many, but maybe I can give her a chance. Like the one you gave me.”

She hesitated, then kissed her fingertips and pressed them to the stone letters of his name.

Finally, she stood. A slight breeze wafted across the cemetery, lifting the ribbons of her bonnet to dance along her shoulders. The day dress in a matching shade of blue had been a traveling
gift from Sophia; Becky’s skilled needlework made it fit to perfection in only one afternoon.

To anyone watching, she was just a normal girl. But, for the first time in her life, she
felt
normal as well. Nic had given her this opportunity for a better life.

Strangely enough, Wild had given her a family.

And Grae: he had given her unconditional love.

Arista glanced toward the carriage. Grae stood with his arms crossed over his chest, watching her. They were meeting the family at the docks in an hour to say goodbye. Marguerite had been
overjoyed by the news of the engagement, and had insisted that Grae give Arista a ring that belonged to his grandmother.

She glanced down at her finger. The beautiful sapphire glistened in the sun. The Sinclairs had welcomed her and Becky into their home; their family.

She would finally see India with Grae, and could not imagine sharing it with anyone else.

The thought filled her with excitement, but she felt she could find happiness anywhere now.

With Grae by her side, she would always be home.

First, I would like to thank the team at Hyperion for everything. I could not have asked for better editors; from the immediate enthusiasm of Emily Meehan to the kick-butt
feedback of Laura Schreiber. With Laura’s help,
Tangled Webs
is a thousand times better than when I started and something I am so proud to share. Anna Leuchtenberger was the most
amazing copy editor, and as for the cover—can you say LOVE!? Whitney Manger did such an incredible job capturing the story in just an image.

Next, I need to give props to Mandy Hubbard. When it comes to agents, she is a superstar, hands down. I would not be where I am without her guidance and support. She keeps me grounded, but
encourages the crazy ideas I send her at midnight on a Sunday. And if all that wasn’t enough, she has cows. For real.

I have such an amazing crit partner and friend in Joy George. You rock, BéBé! I could not keep my head on straight if not for you. Keep on kicking my butt, and I will do the same
for you! We got this!

Writing is such a solitary endeavor most days, and having a great support group makes all the difference. Everyone should have friends like the girls at YA Highway, if only to remind you that
you aren’t alone. I am surrounded by such talented, amazing women: Kris, Kaits, Kate, KrJr, Sarah, Vee, Amy, Kir, Leila, Deb, Steph, and Sumayyah, I love you guys!!

Todd and the boys. My family is amazing enough to give me time to do this thing I love, and not complain when I forget to make dinner sometimes. I could not do this without their support, and I
love you guys so much. The rest of you guys; my mom and step-father, sister, niece, cousins, and co-workers who read what I write, it is so humbling, and it means the world to me.

Finally, my readers. You all are the real superstars. I do this for you and still can’t quite believe people are reading my words. Thank you all so much!

LEE BROSS
is the author of
Fates
and
Chaos
, written under the pen name Lanie Bross. Visit her online at
www.leebross.com
.