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Shoving a glossy strand of hair behind her shoulder, Kendra gave a mocking laugh. “He was only too willin’ to name ye. He laid everthin’ at yer feet. Said ye planned every last detail. Vowed ye threatened to claim he imposed himself upon ye if he didna cooperate.”
“Kendra,” he warned, touching her wrist.
She might push the countess too far.
Narcissa gasped, and jerking as if backhanded, staggered backward a pace. Her face twisting with umbrage, she aimed the barrel directly at Kendra’s chest.
“That’s a lie,” she spat, her gaze shifting back and forth wildly. “’Twas all his idea. I knew he had a fondness for me. I could see it in his lovesick stares and pitiful sighs whenever he called upon Standish. And when he found me in tears one day after another beating by Standish, he pledged his love. Vowed to help me.”
And now they had a full confession, as well. Hopefully, men waited in the corridor, taking in every word.
Any sympathy Broden might’ve summoned for her abuse at the fourth earl’s hands was soundly extinguished by her confession of slaying her sons.
“Ye do realize ye’ve confessed to multiple murders and plottin’ to commit others in front of witnesses, dinna ye?” Broden deliberately drew her fury away from Kendra.
With the slightest incantation of his head, he gave Liam the signal.
As Narcissa swung his way, murderous wrath contorting her features and hatred in her eyes, he dove for Kendra. He shoved her to the floor and covered her body with his own.
Liam lunged for Narcissa at the same moment, wrapping his arms around her from behind and firmly striking her wrist, forcing her to drop the pistol.
The gun discharged with a deafening boom as it landed upon the floor.
She screamed and struggled, thrashing and violently striking out with her feet.
Jaw locked and features strained, Liam kept her contained, grunting and swearing beneath his breath.
At once, the terrace doors flew open, and Coburn and Graeme pounded into the chamber.
“Is everyone all right?” Graeme asked, rushing to kneel beside Broden and Kendra.
“Aye. I was but protectin’ my future wife.” Broden rolled off her, and after rising, helped her stand.
Face pale as paper, but remarkably composed, Kendra gave him a shaky smile and leaned into his side, rubbing her right elbow. “That was—unexpected.”
“But necessary.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Are ye all right?”
She nodded, eyeing the countess.
“Let me go!” Narcissa shrieked, kicking and bucking against Liam. “Unhand me. I am Lady Montforth, you filthy Scot. I’ll see you hanged for this, you bastard.”
“Can one of ye assist me?” he managed between grunts and curses. “Tie the countess’s hands, and find somethin’ to gag her with.”
Graeme made quick work of cutting the cords holding the draperies back and secured her hands behind her back as Coburn stuffed his neckcloth into her mouth with all of the care of stopping a leak in a skiff.
“Never heard a more foul-mouthed lady in my life,” he said with satisfaction as the cloth muffled her shrieks and profanities.
Broden kissed the crown of Kendra’s head again. “Lass, ye were spectacular, but if ye ever do anythin’ so foolhardy again, I’ll take my hand to yer backside.”
He hugged her fiercely, and she cuddled against him like a cold kitten, seeking his warmth and comfort.
“Oswald’s waitin’ for Lady Montforth at a burned cottage owned by someone named Tate. Ask Morris if he kens where it is and prepare half a dozen men to go with us. Someone also needs to go for the magistrate.” Broden tightened his embrace around Kendra.
“I’m fine,” she murmured, quietly, as if she understood his unspoken fear. “Really, I am. Just a trifle bruised.”
“I’ll ask the butler to send a footman for the magistrate,” Coburn said, already striding toward the door. “I’ll have the horses prepared, too.”
This situation could’ve gone much differently. Sweat born of stark terror for Kendra soaked Broden. A glint in Narcissa’s eyes an instant before he tackled Kendra warned him: she meant to kill the woman he loved.
