Ben squared himself in opposition but bit his tongue. A woman had stepped forward and bowed herself over Leith’s body. The way she held Leith to her silenced him completely.

His mother. Ben thought.

Unable to offer any other help or explanation, Ben left the docks. It unsettled him to be written off so boldly, but there was nothing more he could do. The doctor might have been drunk, but he was right; Ben was no expert. His credibility on the subject would be questioned by everyone.

“We have a visitor.” Jacques sneered when Ben found him waiting near the carriage. “Must have followed you from the docks.”

Ben turned in time to catch Hugo a few feet behind. The gentleman looked even more irate than the day before.

“I’d like to have a word with you, Leone,” he snarled.

“Afraid I don’t have time to spare you.” Ben shrugged, crossing his arms.

“What were you doing with Lamotte?”

Ben’s brows drew together. “None of your damned business.”

“I hope you’re not trying to wiggle your way out of our agreement.”

“I’m a man of my word.” Ben shot him a hard look and sneered. “And once I have what I need from Lamotte, you’ll have what’s owed to you, mon ami.”

Hugo glared.

Ben took the opportunity to leave, joining Jacques again in the driver’s seat.

“What a miserable morning,” he said, scowling.

“Did I hear you correctly,” Jacques asked, “about the body at the docks?”

“Indeed,” Ben confirmed with a slight nod. “Besides the manner of death, what was even stranger was the doctor’s response. He kept insisting the man had drowned.”

Jacques grunted. “They’re hiding something.”

“Agreed.” Ben’s jaw ticked. “And it isn’t just Lamotte and the doctor. There’s obviously something going on here. And it starts with my family.”

REMI

For the first time in several days, Remi woke feeling well-rested.

Aside from a minor crick in her neck, she felt spritely and rejuvenated. It was the first bout of energy she’d had in a long while, and she finished her breakfast with zeal. Not one crumb left behind, every bite savored. Some part of her felt it had everything to do with the night before. The chance encounter in the study had eased her worries greatly.

Of course, the kiss was just a bonus.

Her heart felt lighter, at peace with a part of herself.

Remi wandered out into the garden at the front of the manor and gathered a fresh bouquet of wisteria. The morning air was sticky with humidity, but a gentle breeze blew by every now and again to chase the discomfort away. Today offered a break in the storms, but no doubt, there would be one later in the evening. She rested on the bench, inhaling the rain-drenched floral scent when Sylvie called out to her.

“Madame? I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Not at all.” Remi waved her over, overcome with worry when she noticed her maid’s sickly, sweating appearance. “You look unwell, Sylvie. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Madame. The weather has been difficult,” she said with a weak smile. “Thank you for your concern.”

Remi hardly believed her but decided against an argument. “Then what brought you here?”

“A parcel arrived for you just now.” Sylvie glanced at the bouquet in Remi’s lap and nervously licked her lips. “Shall I put those in water for you?”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to do it myself.”

“Of course.”

“And the parcel?”

Sylvie blinked. “Inside, Madame. I left it in the parlor.”

“Who is it from?” Remi asked as she stood, clutching her bouquet.

“I know not. It is unmarked, save for your name.”

Remi followed her to the parlor, where a small parcel wrapped in brown paper waited on the table. It was the size of her palm, with her name written neatly across. Remi turned it around, curious as to its contents.

“Was there a letter?” Remi turned to Sylvie.

The maid appeared confused at first but gasped as she remembered it and quickly reached into her pocket. “I forgot,” she admitted sheepishly.

“Thank you,” Remi said as she took it, turning away. “Could you have Martin prepare some tea? I’m expecting company.”

“Of course.”

Alone with the letter, Remi pulled away the unmarked wax seal and withdrew a crisp sheet of paper. The writing was neater than its predecessor—each letter and word written with care. The blood in her veins went cold. She gripped at her chest as she read.

Dearest Remi,

My love...my pearl, my single white rose...you have stolen my breath, my very heart, and so I have stolen yours.

“My heart?” Remi sucked in a breath, her fingers tightening around the parcel still in her grip. “They mean my locket.”

Fear not, for I have sent it back to you as if new. My Remi, I have bled for you now...all so that a part of me will always be inside your heart. Keep me close, my dearest love.

The letter fell from Remi’s hands as she tore open the package. She dropped the contents to the floor, startled by a red-stained handkerchief with her initials hastily sewn into it. From the fabric, her locket loosened itself. It lay open on the ground, her own face staring back at her.

FLESH

REMI

Remi turned her nose up at the tea Sylvie brought for her.

She couldn’t stomach a single thing, and every time she tried, she emptied her stomach again. The bile at the back of her throat burned sour.