The Devil May Care (Brotherhood of Sinners #1) Read Online Free

she’d seen in Helm’s eyes, and in Mawbry’s, seemed genuine enough.
    She looked back up at Helm, fresh energy sparking along her nerves. “If I help you, Lord Helm, will it harm those who killed my sister?”
    “Yes.” Emphatic. Hopeful. He wanted this vengeance too.
    “Then tell me what you want me to do.”
    Helm breathed out hard, his mouth stretching into a smile.
    Mawbry still boxed her in gently with his arms. “You resemble your sister, Miss Covington. To a most extraordinary degree.”
    “We are identical twins, sir. We . . . were .”
    “Aside from your style of dress, even I would have believed you to be Sal.” Sorrow in Mawbry’s eyes again. “I keep having to remind myself you’re not she.”
    The final piece fell into place. She was useful to them because she looked like Sarah . “You wish me to impersonate her?”
    Mawbry blinked, apparently surprised she’d caught on so quickly, but then he nodded. “Our enemies don’t know you exist. None of us knew about you either, except for Helm and—” He looked distinctly uncomfortable, his eyes casting about at his companions. “Except for Sebastian.”
    Her breath hitched. “That man in Helm’s office.”
    “Yes,” said Helm. “Sal made him swear to tell no one about you while she lived.”
    “Oh.” Sarah hadn’t wanted others to know she had a sister. She ran from that house in Rookshead and never looked back . Rachel sank deeper into the cloak. “But if my sister is known to be dead,” she said, “what point could there be in my pretending to be her?”
    “Ah,” said Helm, and his intelligent eyes flashed. “ That is exactly the point. The French agents who attacked Sal assumed she died where they left her.”
    “But she did die.”
    “Yes. She did. But since our own agents stormed the room immediately after the attack, her killers were never able to confirm her death. If they see you, alive and well, dressed in Sal’s clothes—”
    “They’ll assume they failed,” hissed the Black Giant, with surprising vehemence.
    Her mind began to swim. “And this will help you how ?”
    Before anyone could answer, a commotion erupted in the hall outside the room. Hurried footfalls, a short, muffled conversation, and then a harshly raised voice, with sharp words directed at whatever servant was unlucky enough to be stationed there. There was no mistaking that voice.
    It belonged to the gargoyle.
    The door banged open and there he stood.
    She was startled to see him in sunlight. Even in this cheerful parlor, she’d have expected a man of firelight and shadows, a burning ember on two wide-spread feet.
    Instead, what confronted her was a splash of color. His hair, a sweep of gold-streaked tawny waves, gleamed in the light from the windows. He wasn’t dressed in black, as she was sure he had been in Helm’s office. His breeches were a fashionable buff, his coat peacock blue, with some impossibly elaborate arrangement of neckcloth. One index finger bore a massive gold-and-emerald ring. Good grief. The gargoyle was a dandy!
    “Ah, such a cozy little scene,” he drawled as his eyes—sky-blue, no less—scanned the room. In daylight, his face was handsome as an archangel’s, though his eyes were a bit red around the edges, a bit hard, with a look of dissipation that belied his overall splendor.
    His voice was exactly as sardonic as she remembered it. Yes, the gargoyle was still there, beneath the gorgeous surface.
    Mawbry stood hastily, giving her a wink. “Hope you have a taste for fireworks,” he whispered as he stepped away from her chair. Damn him, just when she didn’t mind having his broad back as a barricade.
    The gargoyle’s gaze swept irritably over all of them, but his look of greatest hostility settled pointedly on her. “I’m so glad you’ve all made yourselves comfortable in my house.”
    Helm bowed, but a blue vein now beat at his temple. “It seemed the safest place to bring her,” he said. “Though your timing