Harcourt motioned him into the hallway. “I’ll give it to you now.”
Once the men were gone, Juliana faced her sisters. She expected resistance and argument despite their words in support of her plan to go with the men. Instead, she saw two faces that were a mirror of her own and expressions of only support and love.
“If he has earned your love,” Anne said with a smile, “then I will choose to believe he deserves it. And pray I’ll get to see that myself, soon.”
Thomasina nodded. “I think we all know that a bad beginning doesn’t mean a bad end. If you can be happy, we’ll never do anything but support you.”
Juliana felt the urge to buckle again at their words, but she forced herself to remain strong. For Ellis. “I’ll need it. Now let’s get ready, before the men talk themselves out of allowing our help. I can only hope we won’t be too late. I can only hope we can save him…and ourselves, before this terrible night is over.”
Chapter 23
The near dawn of a new day in the garden behind the fine little house just off Bond Street was truly beautiful.
“A fashionable address for the most fashionable lady,” Solomon Kincaid had often said. Ellis hadn’t understood his attachment to his mistress then. Now he did.
But the house was abandoned now. Left behind by a brokenhearted woman who had been settled well enough to flee the past and whatever pain it brought up in her. Ellis envied her that. His way to deal with the past was to destroy the future. Before that hadn’t mattered. He’d always known a man like him died young. There wasn’t anything to lose. Now? Well, his mind went to Juliana and all there was to feel was regret.
“Enough waiting around,” he muttered, and marched across the garden with the shovel he’d brought with him in hand. He could only pray he was right about the anagram he’d solved, which gave this location, but also a few words to describe where to dig for the prize.
He moved to the location, facing the pair of cupids that would be squirting water out of their adorable little mouths, had the pump not been disabled and the fountain drained over a year ago upon Solomon’s death.
With a sigh, Ellis began to dig in the spot he thought most approximated the direction. Shovelful after shovelful of dirt piled up before the fountain. But nothing inside. Had he guessed wrong? It didn’t matter, he supposed. Whether he had the gem or not, Winston Leonard would come. Ellis would kill him and—
Before he could finish that thought, his shovel thudded against something more solid than mere dirt. He leaned in, searching in the dim light for what had stopped his progress. A box. His heart throbbed as he tossed the shovel aside and dug instead with his hands, loosening the box and drawing it out. He brushed off the dust on the lid and then opened it.
Inside was the thing he’d sought for a year. An emerald the size of his fist, cut to perfection. Worth…he couldn’t even guess how much. Thousands of pounds at minimum, and many favors to a collector that were worth even more. He and Solomon had taken it on a lark when they felt Leonard took advantage of them.
How he hated this…thing. Even if it put him to mind of Juliana’s eyes as he cradled it in his hands. What kind of life could he give her with this? If he crept into her room and spirited her away and they ran? A life of beautiful gowns and homes, of security.
Of course, he would doom everyone else they loved in the process. She would hate him for that. He’d hate himself.
No, he had a plan. He had a debt to pay with his life. There was no going back.
“Handsome Maitland.”
He froze and stared harder at the gem in his hand. The one he’d sacrificed so much to find. The one that was his bait. Except the prey had come sooner than expected, and now all those plans dissolved.
He turned slowly and found Winston Leonard standing a few feet away, a pistol trained on Ellis’s chest.
“LordWinston,” Ellis drawled, knowing how much Leonard hated being called by that courtesy address. He felt it made him sound like a dandy rather than a dangerous criminal. “You’re early.”
“Normally I try for fashionably late, yes.” Leonard motioned him to come closer with a waggle of his gun. “But I had a feeling the party might start a little earlier than my invitation indicated.”
Ellis didn’t respond but watched Leonard. There was a slight tip to his stance, the tiniest bit of off-center lean, but it would be enough if Ellis moved just right. He edged forward a little, sideways into the lean.
“You were always a clever one,” he said, hoping that talking would keep Leonard distracted. “And a bastard.”
That elicited a cruel smile. “Being a bastard is fun. You know that, Handsome—you’ve been one plenty in your life. Look at you even now, running around with that Juliana Shelley.”
Ellis froze. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
Leonard shook his head. “Still lying. Still trying to pretend to be some hero. I saw her with you at the Donville Masquerade, where I can only assume you were properly debasing her.”
“Shut up,” Ellis growled, knowing he shouldn’t let his emotions get to him, but struggling when Leonard brought Juliana into this.
“I wondered who she could be. And then I figured it out.” Leonard chuckled. “You just can’t help yourself when it comes to spreading the legs of anything with a smile and a giggle. But this is…very unexpected. Do you think she slummed with you because I cut up that pretty face? You should thank me.”
Ellis drew in a breath. He would not lose control. He would not ruin all of this because of a taunt. He knew what Juliana was to him. He didn’t need to prove it to a killer with no soul.
