“Mrs. Harris,” Everett said, desperate because he was too far away. He couldn’t stop this in time if she pulled that trigger.
“If I kill you, as I tried to do last week, if I succeed, then you’ll be gone. He’ll have to love me then.” Portia nodded, seemingly more to herself than to Naomi or to him. “He’ll just be mine.”
“Please don’t do this,” Naomi whispered, and glanced over her shoulder at Everett. Her expression was one of love. Of apology. Of regret.
Portia didn’t respond, but Everett saw her finger twitch on the trigger of the pistol. He began to dive toward Naomi, but before he could reach her, the door to the parlor flew open and Marcus bounded into the room, his own pistol at the ready.
Portia pivoted, and the gun discharged just to Naomi’s left. Marcus fired in response. It hit her in the chest and she collapsed, her gaze already glassy before she hit the floor.
Marcus shook the hand of the magistrate who had come after the shooting. “Thank you for your discretion,” he said, pursing his lips at the amount he had just paid for it. “And for your swift handling of this matter.”
“Indeed, sir. Thank you for your help in solving these cases,” the man said, acting as if he had been doing anything at all to prove three murders and at least one attempt on Naomi’s life.
Marcus turned and left the house. The carriage was waiting for him, his horse had already been taken home by one of the shaken servants. He drew a long breath before he opened the door and climbed inside.
Naomi and Everett sat on one side of the vehicle, her head on his shoulder. Marcus’s heart hurt at the streaks of tears on her cheeks. The fear that still lingered in her eyes.
In truth, it was a fear that was echoed in his own chest. When he’d burst into that room and found Portia Harris ready to shoot Naomi, found Everett moving to block that shot and take the bullet himself, his world had shattered. He could have lost them, lost them both.
Even now his hands shook as he thought of it.
“The matter is taken care of,” he said softly. “The magistrate has heard the explanation of what happened and agreed that it is a matter best kept quiet.”
“Quiet,” Everett repeated in disgust. “That’s all fine and good when it comes to that poor dead woman, but what about Thaddeus Harris? If he is not pursued, he will never not be a danger to Naomi.”
Marcus leaned across and took Naomi’s hand. It felt so right in his. “Naomi, love, your stepbrother returned to your home earlier today, after I’d left. He was ranting and raving, demanding the servants give him information they didn’t have. The guard was called when he began making threats. Thaddeus confessed to killing not just the Earl of Walridge, but Sir Martin Hadley and Patrick, as well.”
Her breath caught, her eyes glistened with increasing tears. “Portia said he had murdered them all. I hoped she was wrong. That both of you were wrong that he’d do such a thing in my name. He confessed then. So it means itwasmy fault.”
“No,” Everett burst out and Marcus said, “Never!” at the same time.
She bent her head. “Perhaps in time, I will feel that way. But for now I simply mourn for them. For what was stolen from those men whose only crime was marrying me.” She was silent a moment and then she lifted her gaze once more. “What will they do about Thaddeus?”
“He was frenetic, by the account of the magistrate.” Marcus sighed. “For now he has been taken to Bedlam. If he calms, I assume there will be a trial. Perhaps they’ll make some bargain for transport. But, he cannot hurt you. He never will.”
She leaned forward, into his arms. He closed them around her, rocking her as she wept. Then he lifted his gaze to Everett, locking eyes with his other love. Everett held that stare as he put his arms around them both, and they rode the rest of the way to Marcus’s home in a circle of comfort and protection. One he had realized, in a moment of terror, that he wanted for the rest of his life.
He just didn’t know how to make that possible.
Chapter 12
Naomi woke slowly and as she opened her eyes, found that she was in Marcus’s arms, with Everett curled around her from behind. The events of earlier in the day rushed back and she squeezed her eyes shut as if that could block them out.
“It’s all right,” Marcus whispered, kissing her forehead. “I know. We’re here.”
She cuddled into his chest, pressing her lips to his neck as Everett tucked himself closer, as well, and kissed her shoulder. The desire that seemed a constant between them lifted inside of her, making her sex tingle, making her want to find this one, beautiful way to forget the ugliness of earlier in the day.
But there was too much unresolved to do it. Too much to be said.
She lifted her gaze to Marcus. “You saved me. You saved both of us.”
For a moment all there was in his crumpled expression was vulnerability. Raw on every handsome feature. Loss and pain and fear and regret, all bundled into one.
“When I thought she would kill you, that Everett would block the shot and perhaps both of you would die, my world shattered,” Marcus murmured. “I realized that if I lost you, either of you, both of you, then I would have nothing of value.”
Everett rested his chin on her shoulder and watched him. “But you’re willing to walk away.”
Marcus’s attention turned to him. “I…I don’t want to walk away.”
