“She won’t go down without a fight,” came the reply.
Simon scoffed. “Let her fight, but she is not going to get away now.”
Grace Langston might have ears in his own house, but Simon had contacts of his own as well. He had spent days gathering information, following trails that had nearly gone cold, paying off the right people.
And it had paid off as he had gotten a tip that she would be leaving town tonight.
Nowwas their chance of catching her. They were close, but before they could close the distance, something unexpected happened.
The carriage lurched violently. The door swung open, and before the wheels had even come to a full stop, Grace stepped down as though she were merely arriving at a social engagement.
The nerve of this woman.Simon had never before met anyone who thought themselves above any consequence.
Simon yanked his reins, his horse rearing before settling beneath him. His companion did the same, pulling up beside him.
Grace barely spared a glance at the constables who dismounted around her. Her focus was solely on Simon.
“Ah, Your Grace,” her voice was smooth, almost amused. “I was beginning to wonder when you might arrive, though I believe that you have caught me at quite the inopportune time.”
“Well, then…” Simon took a step towards her. “… we will not take up too much more of it.”
“I would be careful about inconveniencing me like this,” Grace warned. “You think you’ve won because you’ve caught up to me, but you have made the same mistake twice now, Your Grace.”
Simon pressed his lips together into a thin line. “And what mistake would that be?” he asked.
“You believe that your duchess is safe.” Grace let out a soft laugh, shaking her head as though the very thought amused her. “But even now, someone is preparing to kill her again. And this time, you will not reach her in time.”
Simon did not flinch. He did not so much as blink. Instead, he smiled.
Grace’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Is that amusing to you?”
“Not at all,” Simon shook his head. “If anything, I am quite concerned about the well-being of my wife. Perhaps we should ask her if she feels threatened.”
Simon gestured to his riding companion, who was wearing a hood and was dressed in Rowan’s clothing. Grace turned, unimpressed.
“I am not sure how helpful Rowan would be in this situation,” Grace replied, though her voice sounded uncertain.
The companion lowered the hood.
“Lovely to meet you again,” Rachel smiled, revealing herself at last. She met Grace’s gaze without an ounce of fear.
For the first time that night, true surprise flickered across Grace’s face.
“Who,” she stuttered, “is the woman back at the estate?”
Rachel and Simon exchanged a knowing smile.
“Perhaps your intelligence is lacking.”
Grace finally understood that she had been tricked.
“How very predictable,” her voice rose with anger. “I should have seen this coming. This is what men do. You lie. You trick. You abuse. None of you is an exception.”
“Tell me, Grace, why did you do this to my family?” Simon’s jaw tightened.
“Why?” she echoed, raising a brow. “Because I do the same things men do for a living. The only difference is that when I do it, I am called a villain. When men do it, they are called powerful.”
Simon’s stare bore into Grace, his patience worn thin. “That is not an answer.”
