She moved her left hand behind her back, reaching toward the last button that was undone. Her palm closed over the dirk her father had given her.
In one swift motion, she brought the tip to his throat. “But I brought a weapon of my own this time.”
His wife was holding a blade to Strathland’s throat. Paul remained in the shadows, with Cain on the opposite side. A few feet away, he saw Juliette’s father holding a handkerchief to a bleeding wound.
Instinct demanded that he rush forward and pull Juliette back before the earl could hurt her. But a sharp look from Cain held him back. No, she was in command now.
“You’re too weak to kill me,” Strathland said. “You won’t do it.”
“Won’t I?” Juliette pressed against the blade, and a line of blood appeared against Strathland’s throat. “Your death would free all of us.”
“My sister knows about our son,” he threatened. “If I die, she’ll reveal that he’s a bastard. What do you think will happen to him then?”
She gave an imperceptible flinch, correcting herself as she said, “I have no son.”
The earl held himself motionless. “Matthew is his name, am I right? And he was born almost nine months after I took you.”
Juliette’s hand began to shake, and Paul saw her father sit up. He struggled to rise to his feet, holding the handkerchief to his wounded leg. His complexion was gray, but his voice was iron. “What is he talking about, Juliette?”
She pushed against the blade and faced the earl. “You might have attacked me. But I have no child and never did.”
“Lady Arnsbury is barren,” he argued.
“Was,” she countered. “And I swear to you that the only child I’ve ever had is the one I’m carrying now.” Her hand moved to her flat stomach, and Paul’s lungs tightened. It was far too soon for that, and he wondered if she was telling a lie to taunt the earl. He hoped to God she was, for he knew the danger.
The earl moved suddenly, and the knife went flying from Juliette’s hand. “The boy is mine. I know it, and I’ll not let him be raised as another man’s son.” He backhanded her, and Juliette stumbled to the ground. Her hand automatically went to protect her stomach, and Paul moved in, unsheathing his blade. “Juliette, move away.”
She obeyed without question, relief in her eyes at the sight of him.
“You and I have a score to settle,” he said to the earl. He’d waited for this moment almost all his life, it seemed. Now that it was here, his focus sharpened. Strathland was an older man with a thick build. Though his enemy would lack speed, Paul knew he possessed cunning in full measure.
The earl lunged toward the pistol, but Paul threw himself at the man before he could reach the weapon. Hatred and rage coursed through him as he seized Strathland. This was what he wanted—to end the man who had caused so much harm. They grappled together, and although the earl was strong, he wasn’t fast. Paul slipped free and used his legs to trip the earl, dragging him down. He didn’t feel anything when he hit the floor, he was so driven by the need for vengeance.
The blade Juliette had dropped was close by. He could almost reach it…
But Strathland saw it first. His fist closed over the hilt, but before he could stab downward, Paul lashed out with all his strength. He struck the man’s ear, then followed through with a blow to the earl’s nose.
He fought with all of his strength, twisting Strathland’s wrist behind him until he was forced to drop the dirk.
“You’re nothing,” Strathland growled. “And you’ll die knowing that I had her first.”
The words only fueled Paul’s rage, pushing him over the edge into a sea of violence. His knuckles bled as he crushed them against the earl’s face, following up with another blow to the man’s gut. Although Strathland struggled to free himself, Paul held him fast.
For my father,he thought silently, as he rolled over and caught the man in a chokehold. His heated revenge transformed into icy hatred. Now was the moment he’d waited for… to watch as his enemy’s breath left him.
For Juliette,he thought. He squeezed the life from the earl with the crook of his elbow against the man’s windpipe. Strathland fought hard, his hands pulling at Paul’s arm. Gradually, his body grew limp from the lack of air.
“Paul, stop,” Juliette said.
He didn’t want to stop. He wanted to continue cutting off the man’s air until there was nothing left. “He deserves to die after what he did to you. To all of us.”
“Killing him will only bring the magistrate down upon us,” she said. She moved forward and touched his arm, kneeling beside him. “I won’t let them hang you for murder. Let go before he’s dead.” Her fingers passed over his shoulder, and though he didn’t want to grant any mercy at all, the quiet conviction in Juliette’s eyes made him obey.
Though Strathland was unconscious now, his nose bleeding, and likely he had a few broken ribs, it didn’t seem like enough. The desire to slit the man’s throat or put a bullet through his brain was too strong. Seeing him touch Juliette had driven him past reason.
“I won’t leave him here,” Paul insisted. “He has to pay for what he’s done.”
“And he will. But I know a better way that he will suffer, without our laying a hand upon him.” She reached out and collected the fallen knife and the pistol. Cain emerged from the shadows, and she handed him the weapons. At that moment, the two men who had held Paul captive hurried forward.
