Deepest Desires of a Wicked Duke(106)

Instead he put on his dark coat over his naked chest. Picked up his pistol.

“You’ll get soaked in the rain.”

“A small price to pay to find out what’s going on.” He kissed her quickly. “I’ll look out for myself. You keep the door locked.”

He was grinning. He was enjoying himself. How could he be so thrilled when he was facing danger? He was like a boy, eager for adventure.

As he was closing the door noiselessly, he stopped. Whispered, “Lock the door behind me.”

She hesitated.

“Do it. Don’t follow me.”

She knew she had no choice. She went to the door as he asked and just as he slipped out, he stopped her from closing the door. “When I come back, you’re going to agree to marry me.”

Then he was gone. She closed the door quietly and carefully turned the key.

He wasn’t going to give up on marriage.

She paced in the room, arms folded over her chest.

She prayed he’d come back safely so they could argue about marriage. She went to the vanity mirror. There was still a faint glow of light from the coals in the fireplace—they had all been in charge of their own fires. It barely illuminated her face, but she could tell she was pale and haggard—

Oh!

Something moved in the vanity mirror. She looked up, heart pounding, at the mirror, but saw nothing. No, wait, there was something. Something draped in black.

She spun around just as a dark cloth slapped against her nose and mouth and strong hands held it there. She couldn’t scream. She wildly grasped at the vanity table. There was a silver tray there. She tried to hit her attacker.

But the figure in black knocked the tray from her hand. It clattered on the floor, which was what she’d truly wanted. She was getting dizzy, losing consciousness, and she desperately swept everything off the vanity surface with her hand, making it all crash to the floor.

Then she remembered—her door was locked. Even if anyone heard all the crashing, a rescuer couldn’t get in. Desperately she shoved against the arm and managed to push it back enough so she could breathe. She used all the strength she had.

Cold metal pressed to her temple.

“That’s right,” said a hoarse voice. A woman’s voice. “This is a pistol. Now keep your mouth shut or I’ll kill you now.”

“Who are you?”

“You’ll know soon.”

“But where did you hide in here? We searched this room. Checked it . . . checked it before bed . . .”

Her voice was slurring. It was hard to form words. Hard to think . . .

The killer took advantage of her dizzied lack of strength. The rag slapped back on her face. She didn’t have the strength to fight this time.

“Stupid git,” the voice snapped. “You only glanced under the bed. The beds were all made specially, to allow a person to hide within the frame. How do you think we could hide and evade your search?

“We? There’s more than one . . . ?”

She was fighting to stay conscious. She gripped the vanity, but her hand slid on the cool marble. The room was spinning—

Portia slumped then, falling to the ground. How could she be taken this way again?





23

Fighting across the muddy lawn, blasted by wind and rain, Sin could barely see through the downpour in the dark. At least Sax couldn’t see either, so he had a fighting chance of catching up with his friend.

Ten years ago, Sin had come to London filled with guilt, trying to embark on a new life. Now he was scrambling through a rainstorm, fighting for his life. For Portia’s life. Was her theory right?

“Stop there or I shoot,” shouted a rage-filled voice. “Who’s there? Tell me or I will blow your head off.”

“Sax, it’s me. What in hell are you doing out here?”

Saxonby stepped out of the darkness, into the faint pool of light given off by the lights in the house. Already, his unusual silver and black hair was plastered to his head, his clothes soaked. He lowered his pistol. “Sin? I got a note telling me to come out here if I wanted to find the solution.”

Sin lowered his pistol also. “So you walked out, alone, likely into a trap?”

“I’m here alone, but armed as you see. This fiend killed Georgiana and I want justice. I figured it was time for a confrontation.”

Sin grabbed his friend’s shoulder. “This was a ruse to get you outside alone.”

“I don’t damn well care, Sin. I want vengeance. You’re going to have to go back. The note requested I come alone.”

“I’ll come and stay hidden.”

Sax hesitated. Then growled, “What have I got to lose? I don’t give a damn if I live or die anymore.”

“Don’t talk like that. I’m fighting to survive, and I’ve got many more sins on my conscience than you. If there is anyone who has reason to sacrifice himself, who shouldn’t care if he lives or dies, it’s me.”