Page 90 of The Duke’s Rejected Mate

I blink for a moment, then scrunch my eyes shut. When I open them again, I see nothing in front of me. The gun is nowhere to be found, and no one says a word. Just a cloud of smoke dissipates into the air. Emma holds Thomas to her as he sobs, screaming in fear of the loud, sudden noise. With a loud shout, the men come tearing into the garden.

“What has happened?” Joseph cries out. “Why was there a shot?”

“The notes,” I babble out as I rise, sending the knife clattering to the ground. “The woman. She-” I point to the body a moment, my stomach churning as I take in the bright red staining her chest, before turning away to cast my contents up on the grass. Charles gathers me into his arms as the tears fall in earnest, soaking into his chest. “Am I badly cut?” I sob out. “The knife… She held it to my throat.”

He pulls me away from him, his hands trembling as he looks me over. “Barely a scratch,” he murmurs, keeping his tone low and soothing while the men circle us, lending their protection as they keep watch.

“But I felt… There was something wet and warm.”

He gives me a soft smile as he runs his hands over my cheeks. “Tears, my dear love. Tears and nothing more.”

Once we’re safe, the others hunch down to look at the woman, their faces scrunched up in confusion. “A maid? A maid wrote the letters?” Benedict asks.

Charles glances down. “She is no maid of mine, but she does look familiar.”

“The Prince’s mistress,” Lewis murmurs, his voice deadly serious.

“No. She can’t be,” Edward says. “I have seen her serving drinks at-” He glances at the women. “You know.”

“We all know,” Augusta sighs. “We’ve been there.”

“Be that as it may,” Charles growls. “You are quite right. She was there. But…”

He kneels down next to her body. “No. There has to be something else. Why me? Why her?”

With a soft hiccup, I go closer to his side, even though it draws me all the nearer to the woman dead on the ground. “She said she wanted you to feel the same pain she did for these years.”

He mulls over my words before he takes his hands and places them on her face. “I wonder.”

I refuse to look, refuse to stare at the carnage any longer.

“It’s her,” he murmurs. “It has to be.”

“Who?” I call out over my shoulder.

“Rosamund.”

The others murmur about. Thankfully, they don’t know who she is either.

“Speak plainly, Charles,” Lewis demands. “I know naught of this woman.”

“She’s the sister to the previous Duke of Norhaven. When he fell… She had only to talk to me. With no heirs, there was nowhere else for Norhaven to go. Why this? Why threaten me? I would have seen her safe and well cared for.”

Charles comes back to me and wraps me in his arms. I snuggle in deep, listening to his purr as he soothes me.

“Where’s the gun?” I hear Joseph ask.

I peek around my husband’s arms to look at the women. None of them says a word.

“Who fired it then?” Lewis inquires. “There will be an investigation.”

Again, they look at each other and shrug.

“Emma,” Robert growls. “Who was it?” he asks, knowing she cannot keep a secret. The guilt would be far too much for her.

The duchess turns and gives him an odd smile. “Forgive me, husband. My eyes were closed. I cannot say who had the gun or what happened after it was fired. I have nothing to tell.”

He blinks at her for a minute before his lips slide into a wide grin. “You mean to say you kept yourself from knowing just so you can keep the identity a secret from me?”