After Transmigrating, My Husband Is an Octopus novel · Chapter 17 of 24

Chapter 17: Bess

Morwenna's POV

We went up the harbour hill with the baker's son running ahead and the guards behind us, and Lorcan did not say a word the whole way.

His sleeves were buttoned to the wrist.

His skin showed nothing, and I knew by now what that meant.

The iron gate stood open.

Tristram received us in his study, in a chair by the cold fire, with a cup of tea at his elbow.

He did not rise.

"I thought it would be you," he said. "I'd hoped for you alone, Miss Harlowe."

"Where is she?" said Lorcan.

"Quite safe. Fed, warm and cross." Tristram turned his cup a quarter turn on its saucer. "In my cellar, with a bolt on the door. I have not touched her. I would like that understood."

"You took her."

"I did. I regret the manner."

"What do you want?"

"A hundred," Tristram said.

I stared at him.

"The Regent's regard for me stands at ninety-seven. It is a handsome number." He looked at the fire. "I hated it for two days. I could feel it pulling at me."

"Then I understood what it was."

"A woman who loves me at ninety-seven will do a great deal. A woman who loves me at a hundred will do anything. Sign anything, name me anything, put the Regency seal in my palm."

"And the Maw?"

"The Maw is theatre. Your husband will win or lose it, and either way she will hold the crown for me." His golden eyes came to mine. "Tomorrow night she gives a reception in Pearl Hall. The whole court will be there."

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