Page 111 of Too Sinful to Deny
“Oh, it’s about me, all right,” he muttered, staring at the open door. How much time did he have, if they were coming straight here? Ten minutes? Five? His carriages were ready, but there was only one road leading on and off the cliff. He was well and truly stuck. And the cause of his current predicament had just moments prior been holding his hand, earnestly supporting him through what might well be the last conversation he would ever have with his younger brother.
Apparently oblivious to the conflict she incited in his soul, Susan stepped out onto his front walkway and turned into the wind.
The hoofbeats kept coming closer, each striking the ground with enough force to rattle the foundation. Or perhaps that was the pounding of his heart, thumping against his ribs. Evan’s fists clenched.
“Never mind the bit about running away with me,” he said beneath his breath. “Doubt you much want to go where I’ll be headed.”
But she was already gone. Most likely to help his brother find more nails to drive into his coffin.
Chapter 46
Susan ran all the way to Moonseed Manor.
She hadn’t been certain that’s where she was headed, of course—she’d just been doing her best to follow Dead Mr. Bothwick, who could be devilish tricky to keep in sight. He was as eager to see the Runners as she was. Perhaps more so. Despite her excitement at finally being able to rescue Lady Emeline from her prison, sending Evan to an even deadlier one held no attraction.
She hated that there was no compromise.
Either she directed the Runners to the proof hidden in the strongbox, thereby freeing cousin Emeline and condemning both Evan and her captors... or she allowed the evidence to remain “lost,” thus saving Evan—and all the pirates—from the gallows, as well as dooming Lady Emeline to suffer the rest of her undoubtedly short life at the hands of her husband.
Susan held no wish to see Evan captured, much less tried, convicted, and hanged. She loved him, despite all valiant efforts to deny the truth, and hoped he would not be convicted with the others.
However, she was forced to admit, he was guilty of his crimes. Cousin Emeline was not. If the only way to free her cousin was to bring the pirates to justice—allthe pirates—Susan’s loyalty to the innocent woman who had been tortured for so long had to take precedence over the desolation ripping apart her heart.
She slowed as the bone-white Manor loomed into view. People walked the grounds, all of them looking about as if searching for something.
Ollie Hamilton. His butler. Some two dozen townspeople. Even Miss Devonshire and Miss Grey, for heaven’s sake. What the dickens was going on? The giant caught sight of her at the same time as Sully, the barman from the Shark’s Tooth. Only the latter, however, jogged up to greet her.
“Miss Stanton!” he shouted. A few heads turned to stare. “We thought you’d been abducted!”
Why the bloody hell would she have been—ah. Yes. Her gaze met the giant’s, and she allowed her eyes to smile. Thought he’d locked her in her bedchamber, didn’t he. What a surprise he must’ve gotten this morning, to find her not inside. She would’ve feared his retribution, were it not for the arrival of the Bow Street Runners and her impending escape from Bournemouth altogether.
Right on cue, the first of the carriages rattled around the corner and into view. Make that the only carriage. Nor did it belong to the Runners. Susan gaped. The crest on the side belonged to...
Her parents.
After a moment’s shock, she sprinted past the still-babbling-incoherently barman and cut off the incoming carriage at the pass. What incredibly terrible timing. If she managed to talk them into letting her return, she’d save her own skin—but no one would be here to champion Lady Emeline. Her cousin’s evil husband and the worthless magistrate would escape scot-free, along with the rest of the pirates.
She let out a mirthless laugh at the irony. Last week, she’d have sold her soul to the devil for an opportunity to convince her parents to allow her back home. Now that they’d arrived—and she was able to speak to them directly—it was no longer what she wished.
Well, notyet.She had a few other things to take care of first.
The driver leaped from the carriage. He was not one she recognized, but this was scarce surprising. Despite the money paid to their servants, her parents’ personalities were not conducive to instilling long-term commitment in their employees.
She waited for him to open the carriage door and hand her mother down.
He did not.
“Aren’t you going to hand them out?” she asked, once it became clear he was not going to do so without a nudge.
“Hand who out?” he asked in confusion, then had the effrontery to wrinkle his nose at her as if she were the veriest peasant and he a member of Parliament.
She’d forgotten she wasn’t exactly looking her finest.
“Lord and Lady Stanton,” she bit out icily, gesturing at the closed door. “They’re in there, are they not?”
The driver looked down at her. “Indeed, they are not. But they have sent for their daughter. She is to return to Stanton House immediately. Would you be so kind as to relay the message to Miss Stanton?”
Susan stared in disbelief.
