Her sister-in-law was truly lovely, with fine, pale blonde hair and a face that could have launched ships if she ever did anything but scowl. She was doing so now as she shut the door behind herself and glared across the room at Everett and Naomi.
“I didn’t expect you,” Portia said. “Perhaps I should have, considering. Perhaps it’s for the best, at last.”
Naomi moved toward her, forcing a smile and with her hands outstretched. Occasionally effusive friendliness could shake Portia’s upset.
“How lovely to see you,” she said, and drew a breath to continue.
But before she could, Portia pulled her hand out from behind her to reveal a tiny, but deadly, pistol. Which she aimed directly at Naomi’s heart.
Chapter 11
Everett let out a cry and took a long step toward Naomi and the woman who was now training a gun at her chest. “Mrs. Harris,” he began.
The blonde’s eyes darted toward him. “Stop right there. This has nothing to do with you, but I won’t hesitate.”
He froze, for there was nothing in her voice that said that statement was a lie. She looked prepared to shoot Naomi. Happy to do so, in fact.
His stomach turned. Here he had come, ready to be the one in danger if Harris reacted badly to Naomi’s claim that they would wed. He’d never pictured this.
“Portia, what is going on?” Naomi asked, her voice trembling as she stared at the weapon. “Please explain why you’re aiming a gun at me.”
“Who is he?” Portia asked, nudging her chin in Everett’s direction.
“Lord Glenmarrow,” Naomi explained, shooting a glance over her shoulder at him. “My…my fiancé.”
Portia stared at her a moment, then over to Everett. She began to laugh, even though she didn’t move the gun from its deadly aim. “Not even a week after poor Stephen is cold and you’re fucking a new one.” She shook her head. “How is it that you’re always able to get them to put a ring on your finger? We’re all taught that opening your legs never results in that.”
Naomi ignored the ugliness of the suggestion. “I’m sorry to upset you, Portia.”
“I’m not upset. Marry another one, marry them all for all I care. But Thaddeus, oh, Thaddeus will be enraged.”
Everett stiffened. It seemed they might get their information after all. He edged forward slightly and said, “Thaddeus is very concerned with what Naomi does and with whom.”
Portia nodded. “Oh, indeed he is. He’s been obsessed with her since she was a girl. Disgusting. I thought he might get over it when we married. God knows I tried. But do you know he sometimes asks me to wear a red wig, Naomi? To turn my back while he takes me so he can call me by your name.”
Naomi recoiled in disgust, her hand coming up to her mouth. “He is practically my brother, Portia.”
“Practically,” Portia repeated. “Not by blood. Oh, he couldn’t marry you, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have his fantasies about keeping you in this house, sneaking off to your bed. He never even hides them.”
“You must know I have no interest—”
“Doesn’t matter. He wants what he wants and he’ll do anything to get it.” She glanced at Everett. “Anything.”
“Anything,” he repeated, slowly inching closer every time Portia put her focus on Naomi. “Including murder?”
Her gaze darted to him. “You know then. You know what he did for her? For her, never for me? Killed all those people in her name.”
“Oh no.” Naomi wobbled and tears swelled in her green eyes. In that moment, her guilt and pain over the deaths of three innocent men, the murders she’d been trying desperately to still see as accidents, was palpable. Everett wished he could comfort her in that pain. But right now there were much more dangerous matters to attend to.
“Oh yes, live with that for the short time you have left to draw breath.” Portia’s voice had elevated now. She was shouting, and the gun in her hand shook. “Youare why three men are dead.”
“Where is your husband now?” Everett pressed.
“Looking forher,” Portia growled. “He came back from her home in a rage that some new man had come to collect her things. Was it you? It doesn’t matter. He was driven to find her, to get her before she found herself another man to fuck. But it looks like he’s too late.”
“Portia,” Naomi whispered. “I’m so sorry you’ve endured this hell. I had no idea Thaddeus’s obsession was so deep. I would never allow him to—”
“No, you won’t,” Portia interrupted. “I have stood quietly by for nearly a decade as this nonsense went on. But no more. There is only one way to end this. To make him mine and mine alone.”
