He held on to Patience, and she latched her arms about his shoulders, immovable like a shield. She was a shield, a shelter to keep his heart safe. He loved her so. “Men, send for the magistrate and coroner. Then, we’ll take care of the aftermath.”
Looking over Patience’s head, he saw Mrs. St. Maur sitting on the stairs. The poor woman had stayed. Surely, she’d seen Markham’s fall, but the approving grimace on her face foretold that she’d known other tragedies.
“Ma’am, come down to my wife. Patience, go into the bedchamber with Lionel while I dispose of the trash. That’s an order, ladies.”
The women did as he requested. With arms entwined, they went inside.
Busick closed his eyes for a moment, thankful that Markham’s threat to his family was over, but he wondered if Patience had been freed completely of the guilt gripping her heart.
* * *
In the large bedroom of Hamlin Hall, I settled my son. His appetite was as big as ever. Maybe more so. He was free, finally, truly free.
With him tucked in the bread basket, secure, dry, and warm, he eased off to sleep.
Jemina sat on the floor with her back to the footboard. She’d seen the fight, but she had no duke to comfort her.
I knelt beside her as I did when we were in rags at Bedlam.
She clasped my hand. “He deserved to die, Patience. Markham surely did. Some people die but don’t deserve it.”
Jemina’s voice sounded low but held a sense of assurance. Then I realized that it wasn’t the first time she’d seen someone die.
“My Colin was murdered in July. I didn’t know. I thought he was mad because of my letter. Staying away because of it.”
“Markham knew you bore a boy and thought he could get your father’s payment without anyone asking questions. Good thing the duke became involved.”
“A very good thing.” I was so grateful this was over. I stood up and grasped Jemina’s hand. “We are free.”
Her eyes had that soft, distant look she had sometimes. “You’re free. And I’m so happy for that. I will be free someday, too.”
“You have me, the Widow’s Grace, and I suspect the Duke of Repington to aid you.”
The door opened, and inside came my duke.
His motion was slow in his wheeled chair, and I feared he’d injured his back again. “Everything has been handled in the hall. Mrs. St. Maur, I wish that you hadn’t witnessed—”
“Your Grace, all is well. I’ll return to my room.”
I saw my knife, cleaned and shining in Busick’s hand. Taking it, I placed it in Jemina’s fingers. “Good night, my friend.”
Jemina held my knife, nodded, then left the room.
Part of me wanted to give chase, but the look on the duke’s countenance said,No. Don’t even think to move or breathe without my permission.
I wasn’t one to follow orders, but this time I’d make the exception.
“Are you much hurt, Busick?”
“If thinking you’d actually honor a request could cause pain, I am in agony.”
“But words you knew I couldn’t keep means nothing.”
“You have a point. I’m a man of disappointed hopes.”
I knelt at his side. “I’m not disappointed. How could I be when Colin’s killer is no more, and you and Lionel are alive and safe?”
He tugged me onto his lap and held me. The strength in his arms was everything. His beating pulse next to mine told my heart I’d found home.
