Page 156 of His Grace, the Duke
“Tom, please—”
“Don’t speak to him!” Marianne shrieked.
“Mari,look at me,” Tom barked. “Look at me right now.”
Her red rimmed eyes focused on him, and he took a breath. “She does not exist. Just let her go. She is nothing. A penniless ward. The only one in this house who truly cared for her is George, and he just let his title be stripped away. She has no one left. There is no one left to care for her. You’ve won. You’ve already won.”
He couldn’t bear to look Rosalie in the eye and say the words. It was all he could do to inch closer, ignoring her panting breaths, her blood dripping from her neck.
“Mari, let her go now,” he soothed. “You don’t want to hurt her. She’s harmless. Just let her go and come to me. I didn’t understand before how much you loved me. I see it now. You don’t have to keep fighting so hard to win me. I just want your love. Come...” He took a step closer, holding out his hands. “There is only us.”
Her bottom lip quivered. Slowly, her grip on Rosalie loosened. In moments, she was shoving Rosalie away.
Rosalie dropped to her knees, gasping for breath through her sobs, her hand at her throat.
Tom rushed forward, wrapping Marianne in his arms. Marianne sobbed, clinging to him as the knife clattered to theflagstones. He held her tight, trying to soothe her, even as his pulse raced out of control.
“I just wanted you,” she cried into his chest. “I’ve only ever wanted you.”
“You have me,” he replied, banding one arm around her waist and one around her shoulders. “I’m right here, Mari.”
Giving Rosalie a nod, he held tight to Marianne.
With a feral shriek, Rosalie raised a potted plant and slammed it down on the back of Marianne’s head. Tom felt her go limp in his arms. He sagged to his knees, letting her fall with him, and laid her down. Putting two fingers to her neck, he checked for a pulse. It was faint, but there.
“She’ll live,” he muttered.
Shaking with emotion, Rosalie dropped to her knees on Marianne’s other side. He reached for her, but she slapped his hand away, tears falling thick and heavy.
“If you meant any of what you just said—”
“I didn’t,” he growled. “You know I didn’t.”
She sniffed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “I think she killed her husband,” she whispered, looking down at Marianne’s prone form.
Tom nodded. “I think she did too.” They were quiet for a moment.
“We need to go,” she said at last, getting to her feet. “Come.” She held out her hand. “Burke needs us.”
“You go,” he replied, ignoring her hand. “And send Mrs. Robbins or Wilson as soon as you can. I’ll wait here with her. We need them to call the constables.”
Rosalie stood over him. He could feel her eyes taking apart each one of his threads. “You are not to blame for this,” shedeclared. “Marianne is unwell. She has been for a long time. None of this is your fault.”
Tom just nodded. He knew it was the truth, but he wasn’t ready to hear it. “Go, Rosalie. Burke needs you. If he wakes and you’re not there, the doctor may have to do the same to him,” he said, gesturing to the shards of broken flowerpot.
She put her hands on her hips, her gaze boring into him. “I love you, Tom Renley. Find us later, or there will be hell to pay. You think she’s possessive? You clearly haven’t considered what it means to belong to James Corbin.”
74
Burke
Pain seared throughBurke’s shoulder. He winced, blinking awake. His entire body felt... wrong. His limbs were heavy, his vision groggy, and his mouth felt full of cotton. He tried to take in the features of the room. Corbin House. His bedroom. Daytime. The curtains were open halfway, letting light pool into the room by the fireplace.
“Oh, he’s awake.”
That voice. He needed to see the face that made the sounds. He turned his head, wincing as even that much movement jostled his shoulder. He blinked again, taking in Rosalie’s face. She smiled down at him, dabbing his brow with a wet cloth.
“Burke? Are you awake?”
