“Katherine, run and fetch the constables,” he instructed. “I’ll deal with yer brother. And when I’m done with that, I think we ought to have a discussion.”
The maid’s throat bobbed, her head tipping forward in a nod. “Yes, Your Grace. I… think that would be wise.”
As Jeremy left Anna to sit in shock, and Katherine rushed out the door to obey the command, he stalked across the room and grabbed Paul by the scruff of his collar.
“Ye should have fled sooner,” Jeremy snarled. “Ye should have fled the moment ye decided to harm me. See, there’s something ye don’t know about me. I’mveryhard to kill. Even when I’ve wanted to die, the fates see fit to keep me living. And who are ye compared to fate, eh?”
He dragged the butler to a nearby armchair and kicked the man’s legs out from under him, forcing him to fall into the chair. A moment later, in possession of a few lengths of rope that were supposed to hold back the curtains in the parlor, Jeremy bound the blackguard’s wrists and ankles.
“Stay here,” Jeremy said to Anna, as he hoisted the butler up by his ropes.
He was loath to leave her, even for a minute, but if Paul was to face justice and face it swiftly, then Jeremy needed to make sure that the man had no hope of slipping away. So, with several sharp shoves to the middle of Paul’s back, Jeremy walked him out of the parlor and down the hallway.
A few minutes later, they were out in the fresh air.
“I can still ruin her,” Paul seethed as they approached the carriage, where the driver blinked in obvious bewilderment. “I can tell the courts that I have been framed. I can tell them that it was all Anna’s doing.”
It was beneath Jeremy, he knew it was, but he couldn’t help it; he bounced Paul’s head off the side of the carriage.
The butler cried out in pain, writhing in Jeremy’s grip as he sought to bring his hands to his now-broken nose, but even in his weakened state, Jeremy was stronger. He let the man bleed and wrenched open the carriage door, pushing Paul inside.
“The keys!” Jeremy barked to the driver, who quickly fumbled in his pockets.
The startled man threw the keys down to Jeremy, who caught them with ease and set about locking the two carriage doors. Without his own keys, Paul couldn’t unlock them from theinside, and he seemed to realize it as he banged against the window, his face twisted in fury.
“I will make her suffer!” the butler howled. “I will put the blame on her! Society already thinks she’s guilty; it won’t be hard!”
Jeremy moved closer to the rattling window and smiled coldly. “No, but the labor ye are sentenced to will be. That’s if they don’t execute ye outright.” He leaned in. “What do ye think the punishment is for killing a duke, and trying to kill another? What chance do ye think ye have of surviving this? Society and its magistrates look after their own, Mr. Miller.”
He didn’t linger to see the effect of his words on the butler, as he turned and made his way back up the front steps, pausing only to call back over his shoulder, “Make sure he doesn’t break a window and get away. If he does, ye won’t like the consequences.”
In a hurry, the driver scrambled down from the bench and moved into position in front of the pavement-side door, making a rather awkward gaoler.
Satisfied that Mr. Miller would remain in custody until the constables could take him, Jeremy walked back into the building.
He had just made it to the landing when he halted. Anna was emerging from the apartments, still visibly shaken by what had just happened. Her head was down as she politely closed the door behind her, apparently unaware of Jeremy’s presence.
“Ye should stay in the parlor for a while,” he said softly. “Ye’ve had a shock, love. There’s nay need to rush our return to Stonebridge, nay matter how unpleasant it might be.”
Anna looked at him in mild surprise, her eyes twinkling with the welling of her tears. “I am… grateful that you came when you did, Jeremy, but… I cannot return to Stonebridge.” She shook her head. “I cannot.”
He moved toward her slowly. “The people know their mistake, love,” he insisted. “I told them ye had nay part in what happened, and that was before I even knew what happened. I never doubted ye, love, and they won’t doubt ye again.”
As he reached for her hand, she pulled back, unable to meet his gaze. “It is not that, Jeremy.” She paused, grimacing as if the words were difficult to find. “Well, it is notentirelythat. I could endure their suspicions and misgivings, but… what I cannot do is spend my life with someone who does not want me. I do not want a façade, Jeremy. I do not want a marriage of convenience, and if I cannot have more than that, then… I would rather return to my cousin’s house.”
“Ye’ll do nay such thing,” Jeremy told her, as he closed the gap between them and slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her to him. “Because what ye think... It’s not true, love.”
Her hands fell upon his chest, her eyes creased in confusion as she peered up at him. “Why do you keep calling me that?”
“I could call ye ‘lass’ if ye prefer, but I know how ye feel about that,” he replied with a soft laugh. “Anna, the only reason I tried to put distance between us and put up those barriers of ‘convenience’ and ‘appearances’ was to protect ye.”
She shook her head. “I do not understand.”
“Ye weren’t there in the aftermath of the fire that burned me brother’s castle to ash,” he explained carefully. “Ye didn’t see what it did to Beatrice, when me brother took his last breath on the grass outside. I got him out, but I couldn’t save him. She said she’d never forgive me for his death, but she won’t forgive herself either. Ye see, he went back in to save her and Sophie… and it killed him. I think it killed a part of her, too.”
“I know grief,” she countered, her hands lightly grasping his shirt.
He nodded. “Aye, I don’t doubt that ye do, but Beatrice’s grief was… unlike anything I’ve ever seen. I didn’t know a person could shatter until I saw it for meself. That’s the price that comes with loving someone, knowing that a piece of ye will be lost forever if anything happens to them, knowing it’ll almost kill ye if they die first.” He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “I didn’t want to love ye because I didn’t want ye to suffer as Beatrice has, if anything bad befell me. And the dukes around Stonebridge have a habit of dying early.”
