Chapter 28
As soon as Alaric had walked into the house, he knew something was wrong. He had barely listened to the guards as they stammered their explanations, brushing them aside as soon as he heard the shouting from the drawing room.
“Brave words, a pity they will be your last.” The words stole the air from his lungs, driving all reason from his mind.
He threw himself at the door, roaring like a wild animal as he did. There was the sound of wood splintering and a gunshot, just as Alaric collided with Marina, knocking her off balance.
Fury filled him as he towered over her. “Get away from my wife.”
He knocked the gun from her hands. He could smell blood, mingling with the scent of gunpowder and lavender. “If you have hurt her, even the devil will weep when he hears what I have done to you.”
Blood roared in his ears. The world around him faded from existence as every instinct in his body told him to rip the woman in front of him limb from limb.
“You are too late, Your Grace.” Marina spat blood on the floor, and Alaric hoisted her up. “You wanted to play the hero, but so did she. It was the last thing she ever did.”
“Liar.” Alaric breathed. “She is not dead.”
Please, let her not be dead.
Alaric could not bring himself to turn from the woman. He thought he heard Catherine murmur something, but he could not be sure.
The guards rushed into the room. “Restrain this woman. Now!” Alaric barked.
He glowered at the men as they tied up the woman. “And once you have done that, get out of my sight and consider your employment terminated. I have no use for cowards.”
“Alaric... They were only doing what I asked.” Catherine’s voice was like the first drop of rain after a long drought. “It was my fault, not theirs. If anyone is to blame, it is me.”
She is alive.
“They should know better. They should never have allowed you to risk your health and your safety like that. I told them that your safety was paramount, and the fools let you come here alone?”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the guards wince. Good. His heart seized in his chest, and he took another step toward her, fighting the urge to pull her into his arms and hold her close. His eyes drifted across her body, taking in her pale face, searching for a sign of injury.
“I did not really give them much of a choice.” Catherine’s fingers were pressed against her shoulder, and Alaric realized that she was bleeding.
“You are hurt!” He closed the distance between them and snapped at one of the guards. “Get me a physician, now. And fetch the constables and a magistrate while you are at it. That is, if you have the wit to find your way out of the house.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” The guard sprinted from the room.
“You are all trying to rob me. To rob my son! It should be mine. It will be mine,” Marina was babbling in the corner, but Alaric did not care.
“Gag her. I have no wish to hear her ramblings.” He gestured to the remaining guard.
He felt a hand on his chest and looked down. Catherine’s piercing blue eyes gazed up at him. “The constables and the magistrate should all already be on their way. I sent the butler to fetch them.”
Alaric could not tell if he was frustrated or impressed by his wife’s straightforward voice. He shook his head and turned to the guard, his arms still around Catherine.
“Keep that viper here, until the constables—”
The sound of footsteps cut off his words, as a group of red-faced men appeared in the doorway.
“We came as quickly as we could, Your Grace,” the butler wheezed, clutching his chest. “There is a physician downstairs, as this woman assaulted one of the maids, though mercifully she is not badly hurt.”
“When he is done with her, have him come here. The Duchess has been injured.” Alaric’s eyes went to the blood soaking through Catherine’s dress. “Actually, send him to the study. I will tend to my wife until he gets there. Bring me a clean cloth, boiling water, and some salt.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” One of the maids disappeared out of sight.
“We will need a statement from Her Grace.” One of the magistrate’s voices sounded from behind him as the others led the bound and gagged Marina from the room. “It is best to do things while it is all still fresh.”
“It will have to wait until she has been seen by a physician,” Alaric replied, his eyes never leaving Catherine’s face.
“But Your Grace...” the magistrate began, and Alaric rounded on him, but Catherine spoke before he could.
“I would not test him if I were you, sir.”
The man swallowed and nodded. Alaric put an arm around Catherine. Her face was pale, her lips drained of all their color. He swept her into his arms and walked from the room.
His heart pounded against his ribs, but he did not care.
He felt her lean against him, and he tried to move as gently as possible.
“Oliver was in the secret room, the one in the library. I told him to wait there until I fetched him with our secret knock. He was supposed to go to Fiona’s if he did not hear from me by the hour. We should send someone to fetch him.”
“Why on Earth did you not join him?” Alaric asked.
“I did not want to lose this chance. I wanted to catch this horrible woman and put this whole thing to bed.” Catherine winced and clutched at her shoulder.
“You could have been killed,” Alaric growled, forcing himself not to tighten his grip on Catherine, lest he accidentally hurt her more. “Swear to me you will not do something so stupid again.”
“It did not seem so foolish at the time, and I have no intention of hiding from a madwoman again.” She frowned at the blood on her fingers. “I still cannot believe she bit me.”
“She bit you?” Alaric looked at the mark on Catherine’s skin.
She nodded, and it was only the fact that he was holding her in his arms that stopped him from racing after the constables and ripping Marina apart. Catherine seemed to sense some of his thoughts, because he felt her put a hand on his chest.
They walked in silence to the study, and he gently put her down on the chaise longue. A maid appeared with clean rags, boiling water, and salt. Alaric set about mixing it and pressed the rag to Catherine’s wound.
She hissed but did not move away from his touch. The pounding of his heart began to slow as he gently wiped the blood from her body.
The bite was deeper than he had expected, and he hoped the physician had brought something to prevent it from going sour.
“You are bleeding.” He felt her fingers brush his cheek.
“It is probably just a splinter from the door.” He shrugged. “When I heard her, all reasonable thought left me. All I could think was that I was too late, that she was… That you were…”
“I am not.” Catherine squeezed his hand.
“You could have been.” Alaric’s voice caught.
You would have been, and I would have been to blame.
There was a knock at the door, and the physician appeared. Alaric quickly stepped aside, allowing the man to do his work. He clasped his hands behind his back.
“You have something to keep the wound clean?” Alaric nodded to Catherine’s shoulder, wrestling the urge to pull the doctor off her with some difficulty.
“Yes. Gin will work a treat. I suggest you take a swig. I will need to stitch this.” The physician grimaced. “I am afraid it will leave a rather nasty scar.”
The man looked at Alaric, as though he was worried about what he would think. Alaric gazed back at him, utterly nonplussed. “So long as she is happy, healthy, and alive, I do not care.”
The physician colored at his words and nodded, handing Catherine a bottle of gin. Alaric moved to stand beside her without thinking and felt her take his hand in hers.
Her nails dug into him as the physician worked on her wound, but she did not utter a sound. Alaric shook his head. Blood trickled down his cheek, and he suspected it would leave a scar.
He reluctantly let go of Catherine’s hand as he paid the physician. She gave her statement to the constables.
With every word Alaric overheard, he felt cold sweat pour across his body.
She decided to go after the woman by herself with a fire poker?
When she said, “I thought I was going to die.” He swore he felt his soul leave his body.
“You are lucky h is Grace reached you in time,” one of the constables said.
He saw Catherine nod, her eyes flicking toward him. He felt like she was not so much looking at him as she was looking through him, puzzling him out like a particularly intriguing riddle. He swallowed.
Tell her the truth.
“I will contact you if we have any more questions, but I suspect justice will be rather swift. With what the woman confessed to you… Well, let us just say the sentence is not one fit for such genteel ears.” The man doffed his cap and left the room.
As the door swung shut behind him, silence settled between Catherine and Alaric. He massaged his neck, all his carefully planned words tumbling from his mind under the icy cool of her gaze.
“Why are you here, Alaric?” Catherine asked, but she did not close the distance between them.
Words were lodged in his throat, each one struggling for space. Finally, he shrugged, his eyes meeting hers.
She shook her head. “I am afraid I am going to need more than that.”
He let out a long breath.
“You.”