The Bachelor Bargain (Secrets, Scandals, and Spies)

Well, maybe the second most reckless thing, after having confronted the Bastard of Baker Street in his den the other day.
But after she’d spent the whole previous day trying to track down the blasted man, to no avail, she’d nearly rejoiced when she’d received his note an hour ago while she was at the McAuley ball, demanding she meet him at the back of an old, abandoned tavern in the heart of the Rookeries.
The man was either trying to terrify her or was insane, dictating they meet here of all places and at this hour, too. For no one of sensible character would have a lady meet him here, and if it wasn’t for the fact that she was desperate to secure the funds from him with less than five hours until Mr. Mooney’s deadline, she would have flatly refused his summons.
But here she was with the fog growing thick around her and not a sign of the man himself anywhere to be seen. Her fingers tightened around the handle of her cane and she stepped farther back into the shadows. If she had to meet him here, best she blend into the night rather than be a target for any potential ruffians.
No wonder she was nervous.
Being alone in one of the most notorious slums of London was ludicrous. For a moment, she contemplated dashing down the laneway to the safety of where her carriage was waiting. If she didn’t need that blasted money, she would most definitely have done so, but instead she stayed put, her eyes and ears straining to hear his approach.
Yes, she was most definitely an idiot, meeting him here, an attribute her three brothers would certainly agree with if they ever found out what she was up to. Well, in truth, they’d probably call her far worse, but she was confident they’d never discover her escapade tonight.
The carriage driver, Mr. Gregson, was extremely loyal to Livie, having served at the household before Livie was born. He could be trusted to keep her more daring adventures a secret from her father and brothers, particularly as her family were all extremely overprotective when it came to their baby sister.
Not that she was a baby. At five-and-twenty, she was rather firmly on the shelf, as Mr. Trantor had unknowingly pointed out earlier, which, thankfully, meant she did have a measure of independence that other younger ladies of her social station did not, much to her three brothers’ protests. Though even they conceded that with every passing year it was getting less and less likely she would ever marry.
Hence, their grumbles were getting less frequent.
Besides, the year was 1885, a time when women had a great deal more independence than they ever had in years gone by. Even if her brothers obviously liked to live in the past and argue the fact. But Livie was determined to be independent, regardless of her overprotective family.
Especially now after Alice’s death.
If she’d been more independent before, instead of hiding away in the countryside, she might’ve been in London and able to talk to Alice before that fateful night, rather than now trying to find the man responsible for her demise.
“Lady, you better have a damn good explanation for meeting an informant here and at this hour.” The muffled drawl of a man’s deep voice drifted across to her through the fog, a few feet to her right, piercing the unnatural silence blanketing the area.
Livie nearly jumped out of her skin; the sound had come from the shadows. She stifled a scream and swung around to face the threat, her cane held out in front of her. “Stay right where you are. I warn you, I am armed!” How on earth had a man snuck up on her? She hadn’t heard his approach at all.
She depressed the button on the handle of her cane and the sharp blade of the sword hidden within its housing swiftly deployed through the thin slit of the rubber bottom. The action didn’t seem to deter the man as he slowly stepped forward, coming to a halt just shy of where the blade was now pointing firmly toward him, a scowl covering his mouth and twisting up the edges of his scar.
“Oh, thank goodness, it is you,” she declared.
“You certainly are full of surprises, aren’t you?” Sebastian Colver said as he glanced down at her cane. “I suppose at least you had the foresight to come armed, if nothing else.”
“Do I need to be armed when meeting you?” Livie asked, relief washing through her that he was there. “You are late.”
“Late?” A cold light of fury came from his eyes. “I didn’t realize I had received an invitation to your predawn party.”
“My party?” The man’s words were making little sense. “I came here to meet you. At your request, might I remind you.”
“My request?” Sebastian shook his head.
“Yes, you sent me a note.” Was the man deliberately toying with her?
“I never sent— Fuck!” He took a step toward her and grabbed her hand. “We’ve been set up. We need to leave now.”
Without hesitation, Livie took his hand. “My carriage is around the corner.” She nodded up the alley toward the main street, valiantly trying to ignore the fission of energy shooting up her arm from his touch.
“Very well. Come.”
A loud cracking noise echoed all around them, and suddenly Livie found herself pushed to the ground as Sebastian dived forward, twisting them both to the side and taking the full brunt of the fall.
As he exhaled harshly, another loud noise blasted Livie’s ears, and she realized that the noise was a gunshot.
Someone was trying to kill them.

Chapter Nine
Seb’s ears rang from the reverberation of a pistol being fired again.
The bullet pierced the brickwork of the building right behind where they were lying, sending a shower of stone and dust into the air.
He pulled out his pistol but couldn’t see where the shooter was hiding. It had to be down the adjacent alleyway or from one