She stood by the wall, horrified by her brother’s madness.
Her knees felt weak. This time, it was not because of fear or pain. It was because Daniel said that he loved her. Her heart swelledat the thought that all along, he had thought it best to let her because hecared.
As for Joshua, he was rooted to the spot. His expression transformed from dark rage to something duller. More dangerous.
“Ah. Good. Then you’re willing to die for her,” he whispered.
He darted to the vanity and grabbed a letter opener. It was small and light, but still sharp and deadly.
Lucy’s mouth opened, but no scream came out. Frustration bubbled within her as she tried to warn Daniel to move away. Those few seconds felt like hours.
Then, Joshua swung the letter opener at him.
This was no attempt to scare. It was an attempt to wound or kill, and Lucy recognized it.
“No!” she finally screamed.
Daniel was somewhat ready, with instincts born out of a lifetime of anticipation. Joshua was not the first person to ever threaten his life. He was the son of the late Marquess of Grisham, and that meant a childhood of suffering.
Instead of ducking, he stepped inside the circle created by Joshua’s swing and caught his wrist. He twisted hard until he heard a sickeningcrack.
“It’s over, Marsleigh,” he grunted, pinning Joshua’s arm behind his back.
Right after, a commotion sounded downstairs. It seemed like the front door was slammed open. Heavy footsteps thundered up the stairs.
“In here!” Daniel called, his voice cracking.
Before coming to Lucy’s rescue, he had managed to alert a troop of Bow Street Runners. While he wanted to beat Joshua himself, he knew the danger he was in. He was already bloodied from their fight. He recognized the need for reinforcements.
The officers immediately surrounded Joshua, pulling him away from him. Daniel felt both relief and disappointment. He should be the one punishing the prig.
“Joshua Coulson, Earl of Marsleigh,” the head officer, a burly and grave-looking fellow, declared in a droning voice, “You are under arrest for illicit trade, arson, murder, and domestic abuse. You must come with us to face the magistrate.”
Joshua did not go without a fight. He struggled against his shackles, pulling at them. His hair, damp from sweat, fell over his face. He did not look like he cared anymore.
“She’s mine!” he shouted as they dragged him out of the room and down the stairs. “You cannot take her from me! She’s pure! We were going to America!”
Daniel looked at Lucy questioningly. He would never have expected such words to come out of her brother’s mouth.
Joshua sounded like a spurned lover. He was deluded. Mad. While Daniel felt somewhat sad for him, it was mostly because his arrest would affect Lucy. They were siblings, after all.
Lucy gave a weak shrug. Then, she looked up at the ceiling for a moment. Daniel was afraid she was going to break down, especially when she let out a shuddering breath. One could feel the anguish in that long exhale.
“Joshua is not just controlling. He is not just difficult. He is a monster, Your Grace,” she said. “He claimed that he killed for me, but it was all for him. Everything he did, he did it to satisfy the beast inside him. He wanted to take me to a foreign place so I would have no one. He is mad. He is twisted.”
She slid down the wall, her legs giving out.
Daniel approached her.
“Lucy,” he said gently, afraid that she would fly off like a bird whose cage had just opened.
Nonetheless, he would never crowd her. He would never cage her, even if she decided to leave. It would hurt, but it would be worse to keep her where she did not want to be.
His face and body bore the aftermath of tonight’s fight. His lip bled. His face felt sore, his eyes were swollen, and there was a slight sting in his chest. He looked down to see a blot of blood on his shirt. The tip of the letter opener had grazed him, after all.
“He’s gone,” he murmured. “You’re safe now. Your brother will never hurt you again. I promise you, whether I stay in your life or not, you are safe.”
He reached down, offering his hand. Lucy clutched at it.
