“It’s over, Father,” Sinjin said, his voice low, “and if you cannot relinquish your hate of me, then at least take me for Polly. She has nothing to do with this.”
“Drop your weapons, then. All of you.” Acton ground the muzzle of the gun into Polly’s temple, causing her to wince. “Do it now.”
Slowly, Sinjin bent, setting his pistol on the ground. Even as Polly gasped, “No,” he pushed it away, leaving himself unarmed.
Ambrose and the others followed suit.
“I do not hate you, Sinjin,” the duke said calmly. “I could have had you killed, but you are, after all, my son. My family. And that, I suppose, has always been my Achilles heel.” He removed the pistol from her temple.
To Polly’s horror, he leveled it at Sinjin.
“I’m sorry, son. This is the only choice I have left,” he said.
Fear spurred Polly to act. On instinct, she jabbed her elbow back as hard as she could. Acton grunted, releasing her, the weapon still within his grasp. She made a grab for it, even as she heard someone shouting her name, but she couldn’t let go, couldn’t let Sinjin come to harm. She grappled desperately with the duke before he flung her bodily aside. A blast sounded as she flew through the air, her head catching the corner of a table, blackness claiming her once more.
~~~
“Open your eyes, love.”
It took effort, but Polly managed to lift her eyelids.
The first thing she saw was Sinjin. A dream? But he didn’t fade when she blinked, love and worry etched over his beautiful features. When she realized that he was truly there and she was cradled on his lap, she threw her arms around him in joyous relief.
“Y-you’re here,” she sobbed into his neck.
“Yes, love, yes.” His hand moved soothingly over her back, his warmth and scent so comforting and right. “You’re safe now.”
It all came crashing back. She took in her surroundings: the place where the Duke of Acton had held her captive. She jerked, but Sinjin held her against him.
“Careful, sweeting, you’ve a bump on your head from hitting the table.”
“What happened? Your father—Ambrose,” she said in sudden panic.
“Your brother is fine. Acton got off a shot, but he missed.” Sinjin’s expression was grim. “His Grace is in your brother’s custody, and the constables should be arriving shortly.”
Seeing the pain in his gaze, she whispered, “Oh, Sinjin, I’m so sorry.”
“No, love, I’m the one who is sorry.” Taking her hands, he said hoarsely, “Can you forgive me for how I acted… how I treated you?”
“It was my fault. I shouldn’t have pushed you when I’d agreed not to. And I should have told you the truth about my affliction…” The realization struck her like a thunderbolt, and she gasped, “Oh my goodness.”
“What’s the matter? Is it your head? Does it hurt—”
“No, no, it’s not that. Sinjin,” she said, her voice hushed, “you’renotglowing.”
Ambrose strode into the room and stopped short. Worry radiated from his face… but only from his face, she saw in wonder.
“Are you all right, Polly?” her brother said. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
“That’s just it,” she said in astonishment. “I don’t see anything extraordinary. The auras… they’re gone!”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
It was nearing midnight by the time Sinjin and Polly arrived home. Despite his wife’s sleepy protests, Sinjin carried her in, and after assuring a worried Harvey that both master and mistress were perfectly well, he continued with his precious cargo up the stairs. He called for a bath but dismissed the maid, preferring to tend to Polly himself.
His throat tightened at the picture she made reclining in the steamy bath. Over the past dark days, he’d feared that this would never be his again: the privilege of being husband to this earthly goddess, the sum of all his desires. Yet somehow, despite everything, she was there with him. And not even the blue devil still hovering at the edge of his consciousness could make him willingly part from her again.
She was dozing by the time he finished his ministrations. He tucked her cozily in bed before bathing himself. After he finished, he came to join her and was surprised to see that her eyes were open.
