Page 114 of His Duchess' Mischief

Pulling at her arm, she tried to shake off his grip, but Michael was impossibly strong, his whole body a coiled spring waiting to strike.

“Just let me go, and no one will come to harm,” he whispered.

“We can’t do that, Grant. Not when we know you killed Fern. You have lied to us for years, never speaking the truth until it was forced upon you,” Isaac gritted out.

Michael pulled Alicia back toward the door, but the three men moved with him.

Alicia glanced at Seth and could see the dark beast in his eyes, waiting to pounce.

“Don’t make me hurt you, Michael,” he said slowly. “You are not leaving this house.”

“And what if I kill your wife?”

“Then you will die tonight.”

Alicia had never believed a statement more. Seth looked ready to strike, to kill without a moment’s hesitation.

Michael took another step away from them, but Isaac and Seth were closing in on him.

Both men were big and broad, but Seth was taller than Isaac and had the weight of his fury behind him. Alicia had never seen him look so terrifying.

“Let her go,” he breathed.

Alicia felt the knife press harder against her skin.

If I do not act, I might die here tonight.

Without thinking about the consequences, she wrenched one arm free, jabbing her elbow violently into Michael’s side. He grunted, the knife slicing sideways. She felt it score her neck, cutting it, even as Seth lunged forward.

She screamed as Michael swung the knife back and plunged it viciously into Seth’s arm.

Seth made no sound, even as blood spurted from the wound. His fist came up in a sharp jab and connected violently with Michael’s nose.

Michael went down with a bellow, and Isaac and Seth descended on him, subduing him as Lucas ran out to get the constables.

With his knee pressing down on the small of Michael’s back, Seth ripped at his neck with his good arm, pulling at his cravat as Isaac used his body to pin Michael to the floor.

The cravat was soon stained with Seth’s blood, dark rivulets trickling over his fingers. Seemingly heedless of the pain, he tied Michael’s wrists behind his back viciously tight.

As Michael’s struggles ceased, Alicia sank to her knees beside Seth, and his beloved brown eyes met hers.

She laid a gentle hand on his good shoulder. “Are you all right?”

Seth nodded. “It looks worse than it is. Those knives are meant for steak, not human flesh.”

They both looked down at Michael. Seth’s jaw clenched, and his hands twitched as if he wished to dole out further punishment. But the blood was thick on his sleeve.

“We have him,” Isaac said, sitting on Michael’s back to prevent him from moving. “Go and see to that wound, Radcliffe. You’re of no use to any of us if you die of an infection.” His gaze turned to Alicia. “Firm pressure, Your Grace. Take care of him, and we will see to this blaggard. Seth has done enough.”

He handed Alicia a handkerchief, and she pressed it against the wound.

Seth hissed. “Will you be all right, Isaac?”

Isaac nodded, his expression grave. “He isn’t going anywhere, Radcliffe. You have my word. Settle down and get some rest.”

Seth nodded as Alicia took his arm and led him up to their room.

The fire was lit, and there were candles on either side of the bed. She pulled him toward the mattress as his weight grew heavier before he slowly sank into the bed.

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