Lord Dunn froze, but then he threw his head back in a laugh. “You expect me to believe Lovell fought a duel in London without anyone hearing a word about it? No, Lady Emma. I’m afraid that’s impossible, London gossips beingwhat they are.”
“Lord Lymington went to great lengths to keep it quiet. He knows all about your crimes, as well, and he’ll see you swing for them.”
A trace of fear crossed Lord Dunn’s face at that, but then his features hardened. “Lymington may do as he likes, but my neck won’t find a noose without any proof, and there isn’t a shred of that. Even if what you say about the duel is true, it doesn’t exonerate Lovell for the two other girls. Caroline’s friend Helena, the little dark-haired whore, will be made to testify that Caroline told her Lord Lovell did away with thetwo servants.”
“Yes, I suppose that’s true. Of course, she’ll also testify that Caroline told her Lord Lovell seduced and ruinedher. But perhaps the courts can be made to believe Caroline told the truth about Amy and Kitty, but lied about herself. Then there’s the matter of the magistrate searching your hunting box, Lord Dunn, for you can be sure Lord Lymington will insist upon it. I wonder what he’ll find?”
“Not a blessed thing. Certainly not any bodies. They’ll turn up again eventually once the last of the ice melts—a pond can’t hide everything—but Lord Lovell could just as easily have disposed of them there as I could. But enough of this. Lymington’s on the hunt for you, and I’d prefer to be gone well before he discovers your body. Now, you may hand over the pendant, or I can take it once you’re dead. It’s your choice, my lady, but it will go much easier for you ifyou cooperate.”
“It’s in my pocket.” Emma curled her fingers around the handle of the ice axe she was hiding behind a fold of her cloak.
Lord Dunn seized her cloak in his fist. He’d just closed his fingers around the pendant when Emma raised her arm, and holding the axe close to the base of the blade, slammed it down on Lord Dunn’s arm with all her strength.
He shrieked in pain as the blade glanced off his wrist. He leapt back, away from her, cradling his injured wrist in his other hand, and slowly raised his eyes to Emma’s face, a snarl on his lips. “You bloodylittle bitch!”
His face was a mask of rage, his eyes narrowed tovicious slits.
This. This was the face the others had seen right before his hands closed around their necks, and squeezed until their breath stopped in their lungs. This was therealLord Dunn, the monster who lurked under thathandsome face.
Emma tried to dart around him, but he shoved her back, trapping her against the wall. She raised the axe again, but just as she was about to bring it down a second time, her gaze began to swim in andout of focus.
She blinked, disoriented, and all at once, she wasn’t in the icehouse with Lord Dunn anymore. She was in a luxurious bedchamber at the Pink Pearl with a different man, the same man who haunted her nightmares, his face twisted with inhuman rage as he pressed the cold steel of his blade against her neck.
In that dizzying moment, Emma was no longer holding an axe. She was holding a knife, the gleaming blade sharp enough to slice through flesh and bone, and he was so much bigger than she was, so much stronger than she was, and she didn’t have a choice,had never had a choice…
And there was blood, so much blood, blood everywhere.
It happened in an instant, the vision there and then gone again, and she was back in the icehouse, facing an enraged Lord Dunn. Her fingers tightened around the axe handle, but her hesitation had cost her. In the time it took her to draw a breath, Lord Dunn snatched the axe from her hand and hurled it away.
Then he lunged for her, slamming her against the wall. Her head hit with a thud, the blow knocking the breath out of her. His face, pale and twisted with hate, swam in front of her eyes, advancing and receding again, in and out, and Emma wondered vaguely if she was screaming, or if she’d die like poor Kitty Yardley had, withoutmaking a sound.
But there was no time to think about it, no time to do anything at all as Lord Dunn’s hands closed around her neck andsqueezed, his grip punishing, his thumbs digging into her throat. Emma clawed at his hands, but her vision started to darken at the edges, going black, and then…
There was a crash, like a door being ripped off its hinges. Emma thought she’d imagined it, but then someone shouted, and footsteps were pounding across the stone floor, and suddenly, the hands around Emma’s neck were gone.
Then, in the next instantLord Dunnwas gone, ripped away from her, his body sailing through the air until he hit the opposite wall with a deafening crash, then sank to the floor.
Emma fell to her knees, coughing and gasping and dragging in one desperate breath after another as a battle raged before her eyes, a blur of fists and bared teeth, then Lord Dunn on his hands and knees, crawling up the stone steps.
He didn’t get far. Samuel was on him in a flash. Dunn managed to stagger to his feet, but Samuel lunged for him, wrapping his massive arms around Dunn’s midsection. Dunn fought him, kicking and clawing and snarling, the blood from his wrist splatteringSamuel’s shirt.
Just when it looked as if Dunn would escape and flee into the night, there was another shout—Daniel? A third figure leapt into the fray, crashing into the struggling men, and all three of them hurtled back down the stairs, plunging to the bottom in a spray of blood andtangled limbs.
The man who’d landed on top peeled himself off the other two, then reached down and hauled the second one up by the back of his neck. The two of them leaned over the third man, breathing hard, their handson their knees.
Daniel prodded at Lord Dunn with his foot, then shook his head. “He’s out. See to the lass, Lymington.”
Emma didn’t remember crumpling to the ground, but she must have, because she was sprawled there when Samuel’s face, his beautiful face, appeared above her.
“Emma,” he whispered, his voice raw with fear, but still so tender it made Emma want to cry.
Maybe shedidcry, because a pained sound tore from Samuel as he gathered her into his arms and cradled her against his chest. “It’s all right, sweetheart. It’s over. I’ve got you. I’vegot you, Emma.”
Emma let out a sob, and buried her face against his warm, solid chest. She thought he was stroking her hair and murmuring to her, but she let her eyesflutter closed.
Because hedidhave her. He’d had herfrom the start.
And that was allthat mattered.
