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She looked up at him, blinking once, then twice, the question taking several moments to reach her through the haze that had settled over her thoughts.

Eliza finally nodded.

Only then did she become aware of the cool evening air brushing against her throat. Almost instinctively, her hand flew to her neck. Her locket must have been displaced across the room; she glanced around, but Laurence was deliberately obstructing her gaze, and Vinnie stood rooted to the spot beside the doorway, one trembling hand clamped over her mouth, tears already spilling freely down her cheeks as her horrified gaze remained fixed upon Malcolm.

Laurence's voice dropped to little more than a murmur, so gentle she scarcely recognised it as his.

"Your Grace, Buck has asked me to take you from the room."

His eyes searched her face, then flickered briefly towards the dishevelled curls framing her cheeks, the ribbon missing from her neck, before returning to her eyes. Whatever he saw there caused his own expression to tighten.

"I shall not lay a hand upon you unless you permit me," he said softly. "But we ought to leave, if you are able."

Beyond Laurence's shoulder she could still see Arthur. He had not moved. Neither had the pistol. She could no longer distinguish the words being exchanged between the two men. Their voices had dissolved into little more than a dull murmur beneath the relentless pounding of her own heart.

Laurence followed her gaze for only a moment before looking back at her.

"You are safe now," he said quietly. "Come with me."

It was not an instruction. It was a promise.

Eliza managed the smallest of nods.

One uncertain step followed another as Laurence led the way towards the archway, taking great care to remain just ahead of her, close enough that she need only reach out if she faltered, yet far enough away that she would never feel compelled to endure another touch she had not invited.

The floor, the portraits, the fading evening light, even Vinnie's tear-streaked face as she hurried after them, all seemed to dissolve into an indistinct haze. She did not hear Vinnie’s words as a bath was drawn, nor did she hear the gunshot in the distance.

Chapter 30

Arthur remained rooted on the front steps of Winworth House, his gaze fixed upon the retreating figure he had tolerated for far too many years. The pathetic excuse of a relation, Malcolm, staggered down the gravel drive, each step appearing more difficult than the last, with his boots slipping occasionally beneath him as droplets of blood marked his passage across the pale stone.

Arthur did not move.

He did not call for assistance. He simply watched.

Watched as his brother stumbled towards the wrought-iron gates separating Winworth from the outside world, watched the distance between them steadily increase without the slightest inclination to help him.

Had Malcolm collapsed where he stood and never risen again, Arthur doubted he would have summoned so much as a stable boy.

His right hand still hung by his side, the polished and recently fired duelling pistol hanging loosely from his fingers. Without once taking his eyes from Malcolm, he spoke to Gunther, who remained alert beside him.

"You will follow him."

Gunther straightened immediately.

"You will not render assistance under any circumstances if he loses consciousness. Or should he collapse, then nature has rendered her judgement.” They both knew the judgement nature would soon be bestowing; it wasn't a matter of if, it was simply when.

Only then did Arthur turn his head.

"I require only one thing."

His voice remained unnervingly composed.

“Bury him where he falls,” Arthur said coldly. “Unmarked. And shallow.”

"At once, Your Grace." Gunther inclined his head without hesitation.

Within moments, his footman had mounted one of the bay horses waiting nearby and urged it into a measured trot, following several paces behind Malcolm like a silent shadow, not to offer comfort should the injured man fall, but merely to ensure that his death did not disturb some unsuspecting passer-by or one of the village children who occasionally dared to explore the bordering woodlands.