Lady Beatrix's face contorted with rage as she lunged toward me. Her fingers were curved like claws, ready to scratch my eyes out. I didn't move, didn't even flinch. I simply watched as she hurled herself forward, knowing exactly how to stop her.
"Ida would not want you to attack me," I said softly, the name falling between us like a thunderclap. "Not when I know all of her secrets."
She froze mid-lunge, her body suspended in that awkward position before she staggered backward. The color drained from her face so rapidly I thought she might faint.
"You can't..." she whispered, her voice barely audible. "You don't..."
"But I do." I stepped closer, keeping my voice low enough that only she could hear me clearly. "Every sordid detail. Every client. Every... specialty you offered at Madame Lavinia's."
Clara looked between us, confusion and panic battling across her exposed features. "Mother? What is he saying? Who is Ida?"
