Page 64 of The Wayward Duke
Something dangerous sparked in Julian’s face. “When we get home, you’re to walk straight to my study and bend over my desk. Spread your legs and await your punishment.” Julian’s heavy-lidded stare drifted lazily down the length of her body before returning to hers, full of dark vows. “Then I’ll rip that gown off and mark you up until every inch is claimed as mine.”
“You’re a wicked man, Hastings.”
Now Julian smiled, and she understood why he never did so in polite company – it was devastating. Full of promise and sinful pleasures in the darkness. Around them, feminine gasps and whispers broke out.
“My duchess,” he purred against her ear, “I can’t wait to show you how wicked I can be.”
Anticipation shivered down her spine. She could feel his predatory focus as the waltz finally ended and he guided them from the dance floor. Caroline was acutely aware of Julian’s warmth, their shoulders brushing intimately as they walked.
A flash of movement in the corner of her eye made her falter. There, across the glittering ballroom – a familiar face.
Edgar Kellerman.
His eyes fixed on Julian. And clutched in his hand as he stepped from behind a pillar was—
“Julian!” She shoved him out of the way.
For a breath, the opulent ballroom froze.
Then, the deafening crack of the gunshot splintered the air, and pandemonium erupted. Screams and shouts echoed as ladies grasped their escorts in panic. Men bellowed in alarm, heads turning to locate the threat.
In the chaos, Caroline’s ears rang. She looked down slowly to see crimson spreading across the emerald silk of her gown. When she lifted her hand, it came away slick with blood. Some distant part of her registered the sting of pain, but deeper than that, underneath, was an icy numbness circulating through her limbs. Her legs folded, dress pooling on the polished floor.
Strong hands caught her before she hit the ground. “Linnie? Oh, God.” Julian’s face blurred above hers as he applied pressure to the wound. “Linnie,” he choked out.
His voice sounded muffled as though coming from underwater. Caroline tried to respond, but all that emerged was a wet choking sound. She could taste iron on her tongue.
As the ringing in her ears faded, she could just make out Julian’s commanding shouts. Then, the darkness finally claimed her.
26
The cacophony of screams rang in Julian’s ears, his focus narrowed to the growing crimson stain spreading across Caroline’s emerald gown. His hand pressed to the wound.
“Linnie.” His voice scraped raw and broken from his throat as he searched her ashen face. “Someone fetch a doctor!”
Around him, chaos reigned. Voices raised in panicked cacophony – useless, all of them. Milling sheep with no capacity to help.
Julian’s focus homed in on the footman slipping away along the perimeter. Livery granting him anonymity amid the tumult as he ducked through the servants’ entrance to escape.
Edgar Kellerman.
Rage ignited in Julian’s gut, white-hot. Kellerman had hidden himself among the staff, posing as a harmless attendant until he had a clear shot.
Me. This is meant for me.
He tracked movement along the perimeter – Wentworth and two men breaking into pursuit of the hidden assassin. But Julian couldn’t stay to witness the hunt, not when Caroline was slipping further away.
Her fading heartbeat fluttered beneath his palm, rapid as hummingbird wings. Each frantic beat pushed more blood through his fingers.
So he gathered her against his chest and began carving a path through the melee. The brocaded silks and embroidered satins blurred around Julian as he moved, the world reduced to the fragile weight in his arms. He cradled her closer.
When one onlooker stretched out a tentative hand as though to touch Caroline’s hair, Julian bared his teeth in a feral warning. He was willing – no,eager– to kill anyone who so much as looked at her right now.
She was his.
“Bring the carriage,” Julian snapped at a waiting footman. “Then find a surgeon. Now. I don’t care what it takes.”
The footman gave a jerky nod. “Right away, Your Grace.”
