The doctor bowed and left the room. Nathanial turned to Sir Montague, and even in the dim light, Theo could see the anger across his face. “You are fortunate,” he said, crossing the room to stand by Sir Montague’s side, “that my wife shot you so I do not have to.”
The whisper of a smile, though it was more of a grimace, crossed Sir Montague’s pale face. “Fortunate indeed.”
“Juliet?” Nathanial asked curtly, and Theo startled. To her knowledge, he had not so much as seen her since Theo was poisoned. “Was she behind it?”
“Handed me the poisoned cup herself.”
“And?”
“Dead.”
Nathanial stiffened, then nodded, as though this did not come wholly as a shock. Theo gaped at them both.
“For Theo’s sake, you may remain here until you are well enough to travel,” Nathanial said. “Then you will leave. I don’t care where you go as long as I never have to see your face again. If I do, they will hang you for your crimes. Do you understand?”
Sir Montague closed his eyes. “I understand.”
Without so much as another glance at Sir Montague, Nathanial strode to the doorway. “Come, Theo.”
Theo lingered, looking at Sir Montague’s white face and pale lips. He did not look like a villain now; he looked like a man who had lost everything.
His eyelids fluttered open. “Duchess,” he said, looking at her. The fire was gone from his dark eyes, and unexpected pity stirred in her chest. “Forgive me.”
Nathanial made an impatient noise. “You have done too much to be so easily forgiven, Radcliffe.”
“A mortal wound in exchange for kidnap,” she said. “Consider us even.”
She took Nathanial’s hand as she left the room.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Montague survived.
Nathanial was fairly certain this was a good thing. His wife wasn’t a murderer, and while she expressed no desire to be a part of Montague’s life, she also didn’t want him dead.
He, however, would have been more than happy to orchestrate Montague’s death himself. That seemed a fair exchange.
As it was, he satisfied himself that he, and Theo, would never have to see his cousin again.
After three days ensuring Montague wasn’t going to die on his property, Nathanial removed Theo and himself to Havercroft. Partly to escape Montague’s lingering and unwelcome presence.
Partly because Nathanial wanted to be far from the events of the year when they finally consummated their marriage.And the sooner they didthat, the better.
Theo peered out of the carriage window as they approached the house. “I’ve seen it so many times before, but this feels different, somehow.”
“Probably because you’re now its mistress.”
She flicked her gaze to him, a teasing smile curving her lips. “As good a reason to marry as any.”
“A better reason than most, given the size of my estate.”
Her laugh was rich and beautiful. For the first time, he realised how little he’d heard it over the course of their marriage.
That was another thing that would change.
They pulled up outside the front doors, where the servants were lined up to greet their new mistress. Nathanial offered her his hand, and with his bride by his side, turned to face his childhood home.
How many times had he and Theo run wild through this house and across the land? She had been here almost as often as he had as a boy, and it felt only right she was here to stay.
