Page 111 of One Wicked Secret
Signora Conti’s eyes flashed with understanding. She grabbed the handle and flung the door open. Elsa barely had time to brace herself when the housekeeper seized her arm, pulling her out into the cold, damp night.
They hit the ground hard, grazing their hands on the stone, their skirts tangled around their legs, but panic forced them to their feet.
“Run, Signora!” came Elsa’s hoarse cry.
The dim lights of the city loomed in the distance, but they were swallowed quickly by the thickening fog. Figures began to materialise, their forms ghostly and indistinct, barging past them with no awareness of their peril.
“Don’t wait for me, Signora!” Elsa shouted, avoiding a collision with a passerby. “I’m right behind you. Don’t?—”
A sharp pain seared through her scalp as a hand yanked her back by her hair, slamming her to the ground with brutal force.
“You’re not going anywhere,” a rough voice growled.Elsa didn’t need to see the man’s face to know it was Graves. “Do as you’re told, and death will be quick. I haven’t come this far to lose everything now.”
Elsa’s mind raced, but she refused to let fear overtake her. “It’s too late,” she spat, her words a defiant rasp. “We have evidence?—”
But Graves was already dragging her backwards, his grip like iron around her waist as he hoisted her onto his broad shoulder. She kicked and struggled, but his arm tightened with every movement.
Elsa’s mind raced to Daniel, to everything that had led her here. She couldn’t let it end like this—not now.
Her breath came fast as Graves carried her away, his voice a gruff mumble in her ear. “You should’ve stayed out of this. Let sleeping dogs lie.”
She twisted sharply, driving her elbow into his ribs. “The magistrate knows. He knows you killed Lord Grafton.”
Graves cursed. “I should’ve finished you in the cottage, and again that night in the mews. I won’t make the same mistake to?—”
A stern voice sliced through the fog like a blade. “Release my wife, or I’ll kill you where you stand!”
She looked up, defying gravity, and locked eyes with her husband. Relief flooded her body; love filled her heart. “Daniel!”
Graves turned sharply, shrugging Elsa off his shoulder with a grunt. He raised his fists, his eyes gleaming with grim confidence.
Mr Daventry emerged from the gloom like the devil’s disciple. He offered no warning, no chance for surrender. He barrelled into Graves, striking with brutal force and driving his fist straight into the scarred man’s jaw.
Despite his size, Graves dropped like a felled tree.
“Where is Miss Denby?” Mr Daventry demanded, standing over Graves’ unconscious body.
Elsa pointed into the fog. “In the carriage, but be warned, she has a pistol and is utterly deranged.”
With a satisfied grin, Mr Daventry said, “Signora Conti is in the hackney cab parked further along the bridge. Wait with her there. I’ll need Dalton’s help to escort these scoundrels to the police office.” And with that, he dashed into the mist in pursuit of the wayward Miss Denby.
That’s when it hit her—how close she’d come to dying. Her shoulders shook, and tears fell, but Daniel was there, his strong arms wrapping around her.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered fiercely, pulling her closer. “You’re safe now. Thank God Daventry was nearby. He was leaving the square when I arrived, though we barely made it in time.”
She clung to him, dazed, a tremble rising and spreading through her limbs. “Miss Denby told me you agreed to duel tonight. I thought you were fighting in Greenwich.”
“She lied. She sent the letters and waited in the square until I left for Denby House.” He cradled her, shielding her from the gathering crowd. “I’m sorry, Elsa.” He pressed a lingering kiss on her temple. “As God is my witness, I’ll never leave you again. I love you. You’re safe now. That’s all that matters.”
“I love you.” She closed her eyes, collapsing into the warmth of his body and the familiar smell of his cologne. And for the first time in years, she finally felt at peace.
Chapter Twenty-One
The Masquerade Ball
Home of the Earl and Countess of Berridge
A week later
