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Back Cardinal Black Save as PDF
Chapters (44)
  1. Title Page
  2. One: Into the Storm
  3. One
  4. Two
  5. Three
  6. Four
  7. Five
  8. Six
  9. Seven
  10. Two: London Calling
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. Twelve
  16. Thirteen
  17. Fourteen
  18. Fifteen
  19. Three: The Malignant Seven
  20. Sixteen
  21. Seventeen
  22. Eighteen
  23. Nineteen
  24. Twenty
  25. Twenty-One
  26. Twenty-Two
  27. Twenty-Three
  28. Four: Squirrels and Cats
  29. Twenty-Four
  30. Twenty-Five
  31. Twenty-Six
  32. Twenty-Seven
  33. Twenty-Eight
  34. Twenty-Nine
  35. Thirty
  36. Thirty-One
  37. Thirty-Two
  38. Five: Revelation
  39. Thirty-Three
  40. Thirty-Four
  41. Thirty-Five
  42. Thirty-Six
  43. Thirty-Seven
  44. About the Author

“Nothing to remark upon,” Lioness offered. “That is, nothing I can’t handle in my own way.”

“I see,” said Miss Mulloy after a short pause, and Matthew suspected she really did. Her soft brown eyes turned upon Julian. “Count Pellegar? You and the baron, next.”

Eighteen

Eighteen

With Pellegar’s satchel in his grip, Julian walked alongside Miss Mulloy through a long hallway at the rear of the house, as Matthew followed a few paces behind. Matthew noted a peculiar thing about the hallway: its walls began as the light blue of the rest of the house, but as it continued on the paint became a darker and darker blue, as if they were descending into the depths of the sea. The candle sconces mounted here and there did little to lighten the atmosphere. It was as if the hallway in its emulation of the sea were depriving the lungs of oxygen. Matthew felt fresh sweat under his arms and he wished he’d had the chance to apply more white powder to further mask both his features and his scar, but he had not. There was some sweat at his hairline under the heavy wig, but unless rivulets ran down his forehead he thought—hoped—he’d be all right.

All right. Now that was a ridiculous thought, in this hallway that seemed to be twenty fathoms deep.

“What is your place here?” Julian asked as they approached a large oak door at the hallway’s end where the walls were nearly black: the sea’s bottom, which claimed the bones of so many drowning men.

“My place?”

“Yes. Your elegant gloves, the very beautiful gown … are you—let me put it as well as a poor Prussian can—Vice Admiral Lash’s permanent hostess?”

She gave him just the hint of a smile, but it was guarded and careful. “My gloves are my style. I always wear them. Thank you for the compliment on my gown. I am the hostess at this particular event, yes, but I also serve as the vice admiral’s business advisor.”

“Oh?”

“I have a head for numbers,” she said. “He trusts my judgement and in return offers me a very rich life. Here we are.” She opened the door. “After you gentlemen, please.”