Page 113 of Dukes Are Forever
She was no Gemma or Ingrid.
"I'm coming, Adele. I won't let her hurt you. I promise."
Another woman stepped into the hallway ahead of Adele, gowned in vibrant green silk. Her silvery blonde hair was knotted back into an elegant coil, and her eyes glittered.
But it was the pistol in her hand, held low against her thigh, that caught Adele's attention.
Dido.
"There's two of them," she breathed. "Malloryn, I can't escape."
"Where are you?"
"She hasa pistol."
"Adele, focus.Where?"
Gaslights gleamed in their sconces. Doors lined the hallway. "Right outside the powder room."
"Get inside it and lock the door."
The woman in front of her began stalking forward.
Adele burst into the powder room and locked it behind her, relief flooding through her the second she heard voices. A trio of debutantes laughed in front of the mirrors, patting stray curls into place and squaring necklines.
Safe.
She was safe.
But even as she said it, the handle turned. Someone twisted it violently, as if realizing it was locked.
"They just unlocked the door somehow," she blurted through the listening device. Then she froze as the lock gave a telltale click.
In the mirror's reflection she saw the door begin to open, and Adele turned to find Jelena slipping inside, one elegant shoulder bare and her painted mouth widening into a malicious smile.
Not safe.
Trapped.
"Duchess," Jelena murmured, closing the door behind her—and locking it again.
"Malloryn," she whispered, even as she knew her husband wasn't going to be able to save her.
"Unfortunately, your husband is... currently indisposed." The woman slunk forward, white silk skirts swishing around her ankles.
"What do you want?" Adele demanded, though her hands trembled.
"Malloryn's head on a platter. Or yours, if I cannot have his."
One of the debutantes looked around in surprise, even as a knife slid into Jelena's hand, half-hidden by her skirts. The swan headpiece was tossed negligently aside, revealing a gold-embroidered eye patch over the woman's missing eye.
The other two girls remained oblivious, chattering on about some lord and his padded shoulders, but the other girl was frowning, as if she sensed something amiss.
"Get your friends out of here," Adele told the girl, circling a padded velvet chair.
Jelena simply grabbed it and cast it aside. It hit the wall with a smash, pieces of timber tumbling askew.
And Adele had nothing else to hide behind.
