The only way to know was to ask him.
That’s what they’d promised. Honesty above everything.
Tightening the ties on her wrapper, she pushed her feet into her slippers and crept down the servants’ stairs, the quickest route to his chambers. The stone was cold beneath her soles, each step echoing slightly in the hush.
At the foot of the stairs, the corridor stretched, dim and narrow, the sconces unlit. She moved towards the door that led from the servants’ passage into the main house?—
“I seek an audience, my lady.”
The voice, edged with winter’s chill, stopped her cold.
“Who’s there?” The hair on her neck lifted.
The shadows stirred. “You’re in grave danger. You think you know the man you married. You don’t. You can’t trust him, and I can prove why.”
A soft flare cut through the dark. Miss Bourne raised a lantern, her features bathed in gold. An angel with the devil’s cunning.
“How did you get in here?”
“The servants’ door is always open.”
“No, it isn’t. The staff were told to keep all doors locked.”
Someone had let her in. But who? Who had betrayed Gabriel?
Miss Bourne gave a careless shrug. “I stole the key.”
“That I can believe.”
Was there no end to this woman’s audacity?
She answered the question when she drew a pistol from inside her cloak and levelled it with expert aim. “Is there a limit to what you would do for love? Would you die for the man whose name you took? Would you lie, cheat, and steal if it meant sparing him the noose?”
Olivia didn’t need to think.
She would protect Gabriel with her last breath.
The very thought of him waiting, unaware of the danger as he poured wine and smoothed the sheets, twisted like grief in her chest.
“Killing me won’t solve your problem, Miss Bourne. Gabriel will never forgive your treachery.”
Miss Bourne’s sigh carried genuine sorrow. “I wish I hadn’t hurt him. And I wish I didn’t have to hurt him now. But the man I love will lose his life if I fail to deliver you to the destination tonight.”
Olivia stilled. The words weren’t laced with spite, only fear. This wasn’t vengeance. It was desperation. A woman backed into a corner, trying to barter one life for another.
The truth of it hung between them, heavier than the threat.
As her heartbeat thudded in her throat, the confusion began to clear. “You work for the fraternity. You came back for the valise, not to claim your inheritance.”
Miss Bourne couldn’t hide her relief. “You have it? The valise?”
“Not here. It’s hidden for safekeeping.” Perhaps she could bargain, buy some time. “But I can arrange to collect it and deliver it to a place of your choosing.”
Miss Bourne’s mouth thinned. “It’s too late for you.” She shifted her weight, her hand tightening on the pistol. “You should never have come here.”
Olivia’s heart kicked against her ribs.
Then a noise behind her.
