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The Haunting of a Duke(59)

By:Chasity Bowlin


But the carriage was slowing. He cursed, and quickly straightened the bodice of her dress, concealing the lush bounty. Realizing that they were approaching the theater, Emme fought to regain some semblance of composure. It was difficult to appear poised, when all she wanted was to rip their clothes off and press her naked body wantonly to his. In a carriage, no less, she thought.

They exited the carriage and entered the theater. Emme could feel people watching them. It wasn't censure, but such avid curiosity that she wanted to hide. Beside her, Rhys took in her kiss-swollen lips and the flush of her cheeks. She had never looked more beautiful. They strode past the crowd just as the gong sounded, indicating that the first act was getting ready to begin.

Lord Ellersleigh was seated in the box already. He eyed them dubiously, no doubt well aware of their recent carnal encounter. As it was written all over Emme's face with every blush, he would be hard-pressed not to note it. “Perhaps I should find another box for the evening? But if I leave you alone, I can only begin to imagine the scandalous activity that would take place—"

"Do hush, Michael,” Emme said, her face flaming, but her voice was stern.

He chuckled and held his hands up in mock surrender. The play commenced and they turned their attention to the stage, aware that every pair of eyes in the house was on them, but not all were simply curious. One glared with hatred, with vitriol and with rage.

After the theater Lord Ellersleigh accompanied them home for a late supper.

In the carriage Rhys spoke of their plans. “We will attend a few key events this week, and then return to Briarwood. Emme has little taste for the social whirl and neither do I."

Michael nodded gravely. “And there are other matters to be addressed."

"There was another accident on the road here. The carriage wheels had been sabotaged in much the same way that the phaeton had. Whoever is doing this knows Briarwood Hall very well and is familiar enough to our staff that his presence goes unnoted."

Michael considered that. Rhys had already apprised him of the revelation that Melisande had gifted to Emme; that both she and Elise had perished at the same hand. “It would make sense. We've moved within the same circle for decades. The same families are always in attendance at Briarwood."

"Have there been other incidents in the area? Other murders?” Emme asked.

Rhys shook his head. “Not that I am aware of. I haven't heard of anything, but then I would be the last person anyone would come to in such an event."

Michael shrugged. “There have been disappearances, but always easily accounted for—maids running off and such. Mrs. Haverston commented on it at the party."

Rhys considered it for a moment. “It is worth looking into. Maids do run off but perhaps there is something more sinister afoot."

Emme shivered. “Elise was not murdered in the same way that Melisande was I can't help but wonder why? The viciousness of the attack on Melisande speaks of rage and perhaps insanity, but with Elise, it was very cold, and the murderer went so far as to make it look like a suicide. That was very cunning and calculated."

Michael considered and then weighed in. “Perhaps the motivation for killing them was different."

Rhys looked away, staring out the coach window before speaking, “It seems even murkier now than it did before. Melisande was a child. How could she have driven someone to that kind of rage, when Elise, who was the most maddening creature on earth, did not?"

Michael braced his hands on his knees. “Then perhaps the rage was not directed at Melisande. She might have only been a pawn, her death intended to inflict pain upon others. Perhaps the viciousness of it was directed more at those left behind."

The carriage rumbled to a stop and Emme was glad. She would far rather converse with the dead than attempt to understand the mind of a vicious murderer. The latter was far more chilling. The door was opened by a footman and Michael and Rhys exited first. Rhys had taken her hand to help her down, but her feet had no more than touched the paving stones of the street when a loud crack echoed through the darkness.

It was instinct more than anything else that prompted Rhys to react. He shielded Emme with his body. There was a searing pain across his right shoulder, and he knew that the bullet had grazed him. He ignored the pain and reacted quickly, pulling Emme away from the carriage and propelling her toward the door. Michael raced off on foot in pursuit of the shooter.

Inside the house, Emme collapsed against the door, trembling and weak. The dark fabric of Rhys’ coat hid the spreading bloodstains. After a quick rap, Michael strode through the door.

"He got away. A hireling from the looks of him, dressed in rough clothing and none too clean."