Leonard was an unassuming figure. He was of average height, average build, had a soft jawline and watery gray eyes. If one didn’t know what a threat he was, if one didn’t know to be afraid of him, well…that made him all the more dangerous.
And yet his reputation had been made through a great many misadventures so that even here, in this den of debauchery, those around Leonard gave him a wide berth and whispered as he passed by.
Rage boiled up in Ellis’s chest. That was yet another emotion that he had learned to control in his life, but now it threatened to overtake him. This man, this bastard he had been fool enough to involve himself with, had destroyed so much that mattered.
He had killed Ellis’s friend, the Earl of Harcourt’s brother Solomon. He had threatened Ellis’s half-brother and his cousin, the only people he truly loved. He wanted nothing more than to cross the room in a few strides and kill the man right here and now. His promise to Marcus Rivers be damned.
“Ellis.”
He jerked at Juliana’s small voice behind him. In his rage, he’d all but forgotten she was right there with him. Her face was turned toward his, tears filling her eyes and brightening the green to an emerald color. His eyes flitted to her scar, which had been brightened by the fact that the color had drained from her cheeks. Leonard had done that too and the fear that lit in her now, extinguishing all other brightness, was palpable.
He returned his gaze to Leonard and found the man had turned. He faced the hallway firmly now, and it was clear he could see Ellis. Their stares met, and Leonard tilted his head to one side with a big grin.
“It’s him,” Juliana whispered.
She was peeking around him now, her eyes as locked on Leonard as his were. Ellis looked back just in time to see the man slipping through the crowd.
“Damn it,” he grunted, and lunged forward a step. He had to follow him. He had to finish this, because now that Leonard knew he’d been spotted, he might go underground again.
Or worse, he might move on those Ellis loved.
But Juliana’s hand was still locked in his. If he followed Leonard, he endangered her. Again. So he stopped and huffed out his breath.
“Ellis,” she repeated.
“I know,” he snapped, perhaps more harshly than he meant. She flinched and pulled her hand away, lifting it to her chest as she stared up at him. He shook his head slowly before he repeated, “I know. At least you’re wearing your mask. But this is all the more reason to get you out of here. Did you come in your own vehicle?”
She shook her head. “A hack.”
He squeezed his eyes shut and refused to lecture her about the dangers of such a thing. “Come on.”
He guided her through the crowd, keeping an eye out for Leonard, but there was no sign of him as they exited the building. He motioned forhiscarriage, and in a few moments they were safely inside with his driver heading to Juliana’s father’s home across town.
Juliana was silent as she looked out the windows into the inky darkness, but he could read her reaction like a book. She was trembling, her hands clenched in her lap.
It was fear. No, not just fear. Terror.
His own frustrations at not being able to pursue Leonard faded, and he leaned forward in his seat and caught her hand. “Juliana.”
She didn’t respond or even seem to recognize he had touched her.
“Juliana,” he repeated, this time sharper.
She jolted from her distracted state and glanced at him. “Yes?”
He hated to see her fear. Hated that his actions had been the root cause of that fear. She never would have become involved with someone like Winston Leonard were Ellis not such a fool.
“He can’t hurt you, angel,” he said. Hoped it would be the truth. Knew he had to make it the truth no matter the cost to himself. “Hewon’thurt you,” he corrected. “I’ll make sure of it.”
She nodded slowly, then her hand lifted up. She tugged her mask off and slid her fingertips across her scar. He tracked the movement and felt an answering sting in the injury on his shoulder. The marks of war. A woman like her never should have received one.
“But hedidhurt me,” she whispered. “Seeing him brought it all back, like I was right there again.”
Ellis shifted. He knew that feeling. Too well. How a smell or a look or a sound could jerk a person to the worst moments of their life. How a memory could flash through the mind and feel as real as the moment that had first created it.
“Do you…do you want to talk to me about it?” he asked. “Would it…help?”
She worried her hands together in her lap. “I don’t know. I haven’t spoken of it much, truth be told. My sisters both get so upset when the topic comes up, as they feel responsible for that day, as do Harcourt and Rook. My maid clucks her tongue and tells me it’s better not to think about it.”
