Ethan glanced at Allie, still standing rigidly just inside the doorway, hands clasped before her. If she felt a pang at the image burning, her face didn’t show it. And when she shifted her gaze to Ethan’s, he found her gray eyes to be stormy and unreadable.
“As I said,” Fabrizio grit out, “destroying the photograph will not prevent me from publishing the other images I possess.”
“Perhaps not.” Kendall stalked toward him. “But it is one less thing I will have to extract from your bloodied body.”
The duke towered over Fabrizio.
To his credit, the Italian attempted to hold his ground, but as Kendall had at least six inches of height on him, Fabrizio had to crane his neck back to avoid staring at Kendall’s shirt buttons.
“No one threatens my sister,” Kendall said in a tone so menacing, it set the fine hairs on Ethan’s neck flying to attention. “You would do well, Sacci, to remember that.”
Fabrizio swallowed but jutted out his chin in bravado. “I am happy to accept payment in return for my silence regarding her involvement with ourgruppo.”
“I do not cave to blackmailers!”
Fabrizio retorted in sharp Italian.
Hadley watched, his expression inscrutable.
Ethan used the distraction to cross from the window to stand beside Allie.
“How fare ye?” he murmured.
Her red-rimmed gray eyes lifted to his. Ethan read the turmoil there . . . her indecision, her fear.
She shrugged. “Heartsore and hating the choices before me.” She turned to look at her brother.
Ethan studied her for another moment, the ache in his lungs tightening.
Something had to be done. Allie required more choices than merely Charswood or himself. There had to be a solution that freed her from Kendall’s machinations without a man attached. Ethan didn’t think he could bear to watch her fierce spirit be slowly crushed under the weight of her brother’s heavy authority and Charswood’s neglect.
Ethan slipped his hand into Allie’s.
Hadley noted it with a lift of his eyebrows.
Ethan was beyond caring who knew of his regard for this woman.
Kendall’s raised voice intruded. “Try publishing this information and see what happens to your preciousLa Giovine Italia.Two can play at this game, Sacci. What salacious thing might you find broadcast about yourself or Mazzini? Do not think to intimidate me.”
Fabrizio spat something in Italian, hands gesturing wildly.
Kendall lifted the man up by his lapels, shoving him against the woodwork of Hadley’s study.
“Come, lass,” Ethan whispered, bending to Allie’s ear. “Let us fight Kendall together.”
Allie stared downat Ethan’s hand wrapped around her own.
She felt it then . . .
Belonging.
An almost overwhelming sense of being linked with something larger than herself.
Tears pricked once more.
As if responding to her emotion, Ethan planted a tender kiss on her knuckles.
“What is going on here?” Kendall’s voice whipped her. “Unhand my sister, Penn-Leith!”
