“You broke my betrothal to Mr. Finch.” She trembled as she turned to Harris, her eyes flashing him a warning, or so he thought. “Which brought my sister this misfortune. I shall not be the cause of more misery, Arthur. I shall repair the harm done by remaining with Mr. Finch. You will indeed annul our marriage.”
Harris ground his teeth. If she thought for one second that by sacrificing herself she’d save him or her sister?—
“Bella!” Lady Milton implored from the floor. “Do not acquiesce! We can come to some agreement. Surely, as businessmen they must?—”
“No,” Annabelle repeated, and Harris now watched her like a hawk, saw her left hand creep to her hip. He slid his own hand to his belt, where he kept a second blade. “I will marry Mr. Finch, and he will release Baron of Milton. We shall be a family, Lizzie. Papa too. That is what I wish.” She placed her shaking right hand right over Finch’s knuckles, where he still held the knife to her throat. “Please, sir, put away your blade and treat me like the gentleman you were when we courted. I wish only to reconcile. You will release the Baron to my sister, will you not? For once we marry, he shall be a brother to you. He shall be your family too.”
In the course of all her hogwash, Bella’s eyes beseeched Harris to ... what?Wait? He didn’t know what she planned, but she had something up her sleeve, or rather, at her hip.
He was terrified by what she might do next.
“Mr. Finch, you will honor your pledge if I now honor mine, will you not?”
And miraculously Finch lowered his blade, slipping it back up his sleeve, his other arm still wrapped firmly about Annabelle’s waist. She flashed Harris another look; his every nerve was lit.
“The skirt’s got more sense’n th’ lot o’ you.” Finch looked smug. “You’ll suit, Bella darlin’, ’specially if y’ continue in such docile manner as this.”
The fiend loosened his grip, and Bella slowly turned about, allowing Harris a slim opening to lunge forward. Only Elizabeth lunged the very same instant for the man’s short legs and tripped Harris in the process. He hit the floor hard and looked up just as Bella cupped Finch’s cheek, diverting the man’s gaze from Harris back to her.
“I promise to be a most dutiful wife, sir.” She kissed the devil hard on the lips as she thrust her left fist deep into his gut, jerking up. Just like Harris had bloody taught her.
Surprise painted Finch’s slack face, while Bella stared agape at the knife sticking out of the man’s torso. Finch staggered back, grasping the handle, as Harris sprang into action. He slit the devil’s throat from behind, letting Finch slide to the ground with a sick thud backward.
The cur clutched his throat as blood slowly seeped out. Harris determined a second cut was not needed as already, a dark stain began to pool beneath Finch’s head.
Elizabeth caught Annabelle just as she crumpled, but Harris wrenched her from her sister and crushed her to him.Safe.
The Baroness did not waste breath. “Milton is here, I know it.” She shouted into the room’s dark arches, “Make noise, Jasper, show us where you are!” Her voice bounced off the low stone ceiling as a clank of chain scraped for answer.
God’s truth, Jaspwashere. Harris knew he must act, but his wife trembled in his arms, teeth chattering for shock.
“Luv,” he told her softly, “he can’t hurt you no more.”
“But I killed him, Arthur, I?—”
“No, Bella, y’ merely stuck ’im one.Ikilled Finch, hear? Y’ did naught but wound ’im. I did th’ deed, an’ I’m not sorry I did. He were an evil man. Y’ did no?—”
She fell apart in his arms, heaving dry sobs as he simply held her, held on.
***
Elizabeth blinked from her brave, breaking sister to the dark spot spreading beneath Finch’s stilled form. She would not faint. The man had deserved worse than the mercy he’d received in death.
She swallowed her revulsion and knelt in the sticky puddle of blood to search his still-warm body for his key. After a minuteshe held up a strange-shaped tool with a sharp, curved end to Harris, who simply nodded yes. She grabbed a candle from the wall and headed to the furthest end of the room, toward the lowest arch, and was immediately swallowed by darkness.
Elizabeth felt her way along a damp, stone wall, her sorry flame doing little to light her way. She knew she was descending because the air grew more dank with each step she trod, though she’d not gone very far. Her eyes strained in the feeble light, the corridor opening into a colder, more cavernous room. She raised her candle to peer into the space and could just make out a shape against the far wall.
“Jasper!” She stumbled forward, in her haste nearly extinguishing the flame’s weak flicker.
Her hands met skin, the body familiar, heart beating strong. She could not see his face but felt a gag at his mouth. “Harris!Bella!” she yelled, her voice bouncing off stone.
Footsteps approached, yet in her rush to free her husband she dropped her candle with a hiss to the floor. Elizabeth cursed, struggling to undo the knot at the back of Jasper’s head, thinking only,He lives. Thank God, he lives.
“Water…” he rasped the instant his lips were freed.
Her voice broke on a sob, for she had none to give. Elizabeth gave him her lips instead, sharing what moisture she had, not caring that his own cracked and bled, his mouth as coarse as dust.
She gave what she could until Harris arrived with more light, Bella gasping at the sight.
