Marcus stared at him, silent. Then he pushed past Everett. “This is foolish. I have something to tell Naomi, to tell you, and it has nothing to do with all this. Where is she?”
“In the parlor,” Everett said, folding his arms.
Marcus froze and turned back. “Listening to all this.”
“Go ask her,” Everett growled, and turned to push past Marcus and re-enter the parlor himself. Where Naomi was waiting, and perhaps, if she could get through to him where Everett could not…the future.
Naomi fought to keep her expression calm as the two men entered the parlor. She’d been listening to them, of course. Heard the whole exchange where Everett pushed, Marcus pulled. She wondered how long it had been like that between them, both fighting for position.
And could she be the fulcrum that gave them balance, a center that could be there for both of them? It was a heady thing to believe. A wonderful and terrifying thing.
“Marcus,” she said softly as he strode into the room and straight for the sideboard, where he poured a drink.
“I saw your brother today,” he said without preamble.
Naomi’s lips parted as a dozen unpleasant memories flooded her entire being. Thaddeus and his looks and words and…worse.
“Where?” she whispered.
“Your servants, at least your maid, have been betraying you to him,” Marcus said. “When I arrived at your late husband’s home to collect your things, I was asked to wait, and I am one hundred percent certain your maid sent word to your brother. He crashed into the parlor to confront me and gave me reason to believe he would commit violence to get to you.”
She rushed forward and caught Marcus’s arm. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?” she asked, searching his face for damage, longing to put her arms around him and seek proof that he wasn’t injured.
“No,” he said, his tone gentling as he touched her cheek briefly. Then he hardened again and his fingers jerked away. “But your expression makes it clear this outburst is not a surprise to you. You told us he had a protective streak. And that his wife’s dislike of you was the reason you left his custody after the death of your second husband. Is there more to it? Has Thaddeus Harris brought harm to someone on your behalf?”
She turned her face. “Once, before I married, he attacked a man who was courting me. He broke his nose. And then he…” She trailed off and covered her mouth.
Everett stepped up, his hand coming to the small of her back as comfort and encouragement. “And then?”
She bit back a sob. “He grabbed me and kissed me on a terrace. I was eighteen, just barely out in Society. I pushed him away and he nearly struck me before his wife called out to him from the house, unaware of what was happening. But that was the only time he attempted such a thing.”
Marcus slammed his drink down. “And you didn’t think it was a good idea to tell us about this? When we were investigating who might commit violence against your husband?”
She jolted at the question. “Of course I-I should have. But I wasn’t thinking. I never thought it meant much, and honestly it was one of the most terrifying moments of my life. I’ve tried to forget it. Forget that he did it.”
Marcus shook his head. “He is a suspect, Naomi. Surely you must see that.”
She blinked as all this started to set in. The truth of it. The possibility. “But then why shoot at me? I can’t believe he would hurt me.”
Everett put his arm tighter around her. “As we said back in the beginning: if he wants you, he might have been hoping the attack would send you back to his home. Back to his influence.”
She bent her head. “Then what can I do? Is there proof? A way to prevent him from hurting anyone again? Or must I go live in a convent to keep anyone I love from being harmed?”
Marcus stared at her, tucked into Everett’s arms, and shook his head. “I will continue looking for enough proof to have him arrested for the murders. And until then…well, you need protection. The best protection would be for you to marry Everett.”
Naomi staggered back, out of Everett’s arms, as she gaped at Marcus. He looked so grim. So broken as he said those words.
“What?” she gasped.
“He loves you. You two could make a good life,” Marcus said. “And he knows the threat. He won’t be caught out if Harris were to go after him or you.”
Shock flowed through Naomi. This man who she loved, who Everett loved, was willing to walk away from it all. And the feeling that rose up in her was…anger.
She stepped forward and glared at him. “And what about us, Marcus? You and me and Everett? What about all we’ve shared and all we could share? Allyouwant, even though you won’t admit it?”
He held her gaze a moment, then shook his head. “You don’t know what I want.”
“Neither do you, it seems,” Naomi said. “Or at least you refuse to fight for it.”
