“But I do not want that.” She went to him then, grasping his lapels, frustrated and desperate and terrified of what was to come. “I want you here with me. I need you. I love you.”
She had not meant to make the revelation in this way, but she did not regret her confession. If he was intent upon facing a madman—perhaps even two—this evening, she wanted him to know how very loved he was. To know her heart was his.
His arms went around her suddenly, holding her tightly to him. “I love you too, Ellie. More than I can properly convey.”
On any other evening, these words would have filled her with happiness. But this evening was fraught with fractured hopes, rife with fear and uncertainty. The very real possibility she would lose him choked her.
She answered him in the only way she could, by rising on her toes and pressing her lips to his. Their kiss was frantic and harsh, laced with the salt of her tears.
Stay with me, she told him with her lips.
Never leave.
Bring these evil men to justice in some other way.
When he lifted his head, breaking the connection, a shuddering sob tore through her. “Please, Hudson. I am begging you. Do not do this. I love you too much to lose you.”
“Do not cry, my love.” His lips brushed over her cheek, catching her tears as they fell. “This is simply the way it must be done. I have dragged you into this hell unwittingly, but I will be damned if I allow you to be harmed by it.”
She clutched him, knowing she was wrinkling his lapels but not caring. “Come back to me. I need you to promise you will.”
His mouth found hers once more, the kiss bruising and quick. “I promise you I will do everything I can to come back to you, sweet Ellie.”
“What a charming little spectacle. You will have to pardon my intrusion.”
The familiar voice sent ice through her, the breath freezing in her lungs.
Hudson reacted quickly, making amends for her immobile shock by hauling her behind his back, placing himself between her and Chief Inspector O’Rourke.
“O’Rourke,” he spat. “What the hell are you doing in here?”
“I am an officer of the law, Your Grace,” he said calmly, smugly. “Unlike others who are mere pretenders, playing at the role they once occupied.”
Heart racing, Elysande dared a peek around Hudson’s tall, protective form. O’Rourke stood at the threshold of the closed door, a pistol drawn and pointed directly at Hudson’s heart. Her mouth went dry.
“You are an abomination to the law,” Hudson countered, his voice tight with barely restrained fury. “You abetted a convicted murderer in escaping from prison.”
“I did nothing of the sort.” O’Rourke flashed a calm smile, reaching into his pocket and extracting a blood-stained blade. “Imagine my shock to discover the murder weapon used to kill your lover Maude Ainsley here in your chamber.”
He tossed the knife to the floor at his side.
Dear God. What madness was he plotting now?
Fury warred with terror within her as she stepped from behind Hudson’s back, refusing to cower behind him. “You are a lying, vile monster!”
“Ellie, get behind me,” Hudson commanded, his voice like the crack of a whip.
“Do not move,” O’Rourke bit out. “Neither of you.”
“Behind me, Ellie,” Hudson repeated calmly.
“I will face him at your side,” she said, her mind whirling with how they might possibly thwart this madman.
How could they save themselves?
Hudson shifted slightly, moving nearer to her.
“I said don’t move,” O’Rourke snapped through clenched teeth. “Imagine the horrors of discovering the murderer duke after he had just killed his duchess. The newspapers will be agog with the story.”
