Her head whipped in the direction of the man’s voice. She bolted upward, swaying as a wave of wooziness hit her. She grabbed onto the arm of the sofa for support even as she kept her gaze on the stranger sitting in an adjacent chair. His features were harsh and gaunt, his vivid blue eyes startlingly familiar…
“Your Grace?” she said, her voice rusty with shock.
The Duke of Acton inclined his dark, silver-streaked head. His hawkish mien remained impassive, but fury and frustration seethed around him. Fed by underlying desperation, his aura was terrifying to behold: that of a man capable of anything.
The pistol resting upon his thigh underscored his menace.
“I regret the circumstances of our first formal introduction,” her father-in-law said, “but my troublesome son and your meddling brother left me no choice. Once I discovered that Kent’s men had Grundell in their custody, I knew I had to act.”
Understanding struck her. “You… you are the one who tried to frame Sinjin?”
“It was supposed to be simple. Convince Sinjin that he was mad—and what better way than having him believe he’d beaten a woman, committed an act that even he would find unforgivable? And it is not far from the truth. One need only look at his disgraceful behavior and his pathetic inability to control his own moods to see the madness in him. He’s not fit for the title, and it was my duty to purge his influence from the line.”
“Sinjin is not mad,” she said hotly. “Youare for concocting such a despicable plot!”
The duke’s mouth thinned. “Believe what you will, but it was the only way to save the duchy and Sinjin as well. Everything would have been easy if he had only complied with my plan. If he were declared insane, he would no longer have the responsibilities he didn’t want anyway. Theodore could have taken guardianship over the money and properties; Sinjin could have lived a carefree life, upon his death leaving the title to my more suitable heir. I did it in the interests of both my sons.”
The duke’s rational tone, paired with a crazed and feverish glow, made him a sick and dangerous man. Polly calculated the odds of making a run for it. As demented as her captor seemed, he held the firearm in a sure grip… one that conveyed his ability to use it.
Keep him talking. Try to figure a way out.
Humoring him, she said, “So you were, um, only looking out for Sinjin’s interests?”
“Precisely.” The duke nodded, relief calming some of the agitation around him. “Unfortunately, Sinjin has always been an unruly and uncooperative child. After the plan with Nicoletta and Grundell backfired, and I was forced to… eliminate the problem,”—he paused thoughtfully, the hairs rising on Polly’s nape—“I had to reassess the situation. I might have let things go on for a while had Sinjin not married you. If he managed to sire an heir…”
Acton shook his head while the possibility flashed in Polly’s head: she could, at that very moment, be carrying Sinjin’s child. Her determination to escape this madman’s clutches was renewed.
“… his bad blood would taint the line forever,” Acton was saying. “Ihadto stop that from happening. So I found out as much as I could about you, his unexpected bride, and I learned about a wager involving you and Brockhurst.”
She stared at him, pieces falling into place. “You were behind Brockhurst’s behavior at the ball?”
“Brockhurst has atendrefor you, my dear; he was merely too spineless to act upon it when you were a wallflower. Now that you are the fashionable Countess of Revelstoke…” The duke shrugged. “All I did was have a chance conversation with him at the club. I mentioned that my rakehell son was persisting in his philandering ways after marriage, leaving his new bride unhappy and in need of consolation. Brockhurst took the bait. I had hoped for a scandal, a rift to separate you and Sinjin—but Sinjin gave me so much more.” A smile of satisfaction stretched over the duke’s lips. “He gave me another opportunity to petition for a lunacy inquisition.”
“Why are you so convinced of Sinjin’s madness?” Polly whispered. “He is your own son. Your blood runs in his veins.”
“Not only mine.” The duke straightened in his chair, his blue eyes, so like Sinjin’s, shifting eerily side to side, as if he sensed some ghostly presence. “You must understand, I didn’t do it purely to gain control of his inheritance or to rid the line of his taint. From the moment he flaunted that damned locket in front of me, I knew he had the power to bring the entire duchy crashing down.I had no other choice.”
Did he mean that trifle that Sinjin had tried to charm her with?
“What is so special about the locket?” she said, puzzled.
“No more talking.” Acton’s expression grew crafty. He rose, pistol in hand. “Now we execute the next part of my plan.”
She shrank back against the cushions as he advanced toward her. “N-next part?”
“You’re going to write a letter to Sinjin.” The duke grabbed her arm, shoving her toward a desk where paper and ink had been laid out. “Tell him that you want him to comply fully with the lunacy inquisition—that your very life depends upon it. When he is declared incompetent, then I will release you, even provide you with a settlement for the trouble of having your marriage annulled. If he fails to obey my wishes—”
A sudden commotion sounded outside. Shouts, the sound of gunfire.
After an instant’s paralysis, Polly regained her wits, made a dash for the door—only to be yanked back, her arm twisted painfully behind her. The duke held her immobile, the gun pressed against her temple. The door flung open, and her heart leapt at the sight of Sinjin, Ambrose and his men just behind.
Sinjin’s gaze met hers. A thousand unspoken words passed between them. Her pulse raced… and not just because there was a gun pointed to her head.
Sinjin shifted his focus to his father, his aura afire with fury. “Release her.”
The duke’s grip on her tightened.
“The game is up, Acton,” Ambrose said. “We have a signed confession from Grundell; we know you tried to frame your son. That you murdered Nicoletta French. And, outside, my men have in their custody the pair of cutthroats you hired to abduct my sister.”
