Chapter 32
Chapter
Thirty-Two
E zra had missed them at the White Hart Inn by barely an hour. The innkeeper informed him the Ravensmere carriage had departed southeast, which reassured him somewhat—they were still headed in the direction of the estate.
But his stomach churned with unease. The fear wouldn’t abate, the knot of dread that Evangeline was in danger growing by the minute. That his hunch that the man escorting his betrothed was Gabriel Rossi who might use an innocent woman to exact revenge. To pass Ravensmere’s checks into the guard’s character meant Rossi was up to his old tricks and manipulating how people viewed him. And Luisa’s brother was just sinister enough to do something so reckless. So unforgivable.
He'd always been too reactive, too impulsive, and up until her death, Luisa had been the only guiding hand in her brother’s life. She’d kept him grounded, kept him from slipping over the edge.
But there was no one stopping him now.
Ezra urged his fresh mount into a gallop, forcing speed from the beast while praying he didn’t drive it to collapse before he found her.
He came to a split in the road and pulled the horse up sharply. The animal panted beneath him, flanks heaving, as Ezra scanned the path. Right would take them directly to the Ravensmere estate, deep into Hampshire. Left veered off toward less-traveled country lanes.
But that was where the fresh wheel and hoof tracks led.
Ezra swore under his breath. He’s not taking her home. Of course not. Why would he, when he intended something far worse than a family reunion?
He turned his horse left and pushed forward again. For miles, doubt gnawed at him. Had he misread the signs? Were they actually headed to the estate after all? Had his own mistakes—his refusal to speak the truth, to be honest with Evangeline—now cost her and him everything?
A chill rippled through him. He would not lose another woman he cared for.
Loved.
Damn it, he loved her.
And he would not let her suffer the same fate as Luisa.
Ezra slowed only once more, straining to hear anything beyond the birdsong and the breeze stirring the leaves. But there was nothing. Only silence. He pressed on. Then—movement ahead. A flicker of black through the trees.
A carriage.
His heartbeat kicked up. He leaned forward and urged his horse into a gallop. After what felt like an endless chase, the familiar black Ravensmere carriage came into view. Relief slammed through him. He’d found her. For now, there was still a chance.
“Stop the carriage!” he bellowed.
The carriage rumbled on for another dozen yards before lurching to a halt. Ezra remained mounted, his pistol drawn but hidden, heart pounding as he scanned the treeline. He needed Gabriel to listen. To be reasoned with. To be stopped.
“Gabriel!” he shouted. “Come out. I know you're in there.”
No sound came in return. Then the door creaked open. Gabriel Rossi stepped down—but not before dragging Evangeline with him, his hand tangled cruelly in her hair, holding her before him like a shield. Her face contorted in pain.
Fury ignited within Ezra. He would not let this stand. Gabriel might walk away today, but not unscathed.
“Well, well, well,” Rossi sneered. “If it isn’t the bastard who killed my sister. Finally, after all these years we meet again.” Rossi glanced about. “No guards? No allies? You found me all by yourself? Your intelligence must have improved since Italy.”
Ezra didn’t rise to the bait. “What are you doing, Gabriel? This isn't who you are. This isn’t what Luisa would’ve wanted.”
Gabriel's grin twisted with madness. “I’ll do whatever I like. You won’t walk away untouched a second time, St. George. That is your name, is it not?”
“It is. And if you think Luisa didn’t know who I truly was, you’re wrong. She knew everything—there was very little I kept from her.”
Gabriel’s face hardened. “Pity you didn’t tell her how to stay alive.”
He yanked a flintlock from inside his coat and pressed it against Evangeline’s side.
Ezra froze, memories of arriving too late to save Luisa flashing through his mind. Of his heart, her lifeblood stretched out over the street where she’d been slain. “She’s innocent, Gabriel. If you want someone to blame, shoot me. Take me. But leave Lady Evangeline alone.”
“No, Ezra!” Evangeline gasped, her voice raw with panic. “Don’t say that. Don’t?—”
Gabriel wrenched her head back, drawing a scream of pain from her lips. “Shut up.”
Ezra’s entire body tensed. “Let her go, Gabriel. This won’t end the way you think. Killing her will not bring Luisa back.”
“And neither will your cowardice,” Gabriel barked. “You failed Luisa, our family. Just as you’re about to fail the Ravensmeres.”
Ezra’s heart pounded like a war drum, every instinct screaming at him to act—but one wrong move, and she’d be gone. Gabriel’s hand twisted in Evangeline’s hair, yanking her head back, while the barrel of the pistol pressed hard into her side.
She didn’t cry out. She didn’t struggle. Instead, to Ezra’s astonishment, she looked up at her captor with something that stopped even him cold—pity.
“You’re right,” she said softly. “You failed Luisa.”
Ezra tensed. What is she doing?
Gabriel stilled.
“I forgive you, Gabriel,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “And I know Luisa would too.”
“Don’t you dare speak her name,” Gabriel spat.
“I am her,” Evangeline said, and Ezra’s breath caught. “Can’t you see it? I’m here, speaking to you. Your sister.”
Ezra saw Gabriel’s fingers twitch. His breathing turned jagged. The pistol faltered, lowering ever so slightly.
“I’m Luisa,” she said again, her voice low, coaxing, haunting. “You are not the brother I loved. Not like this. You would never hurt someone like this. Never.”
Ezra’s grip on the reins tightened. His muscles bunched, ready to spring. A shiver stole up his spine at hearing Evangeline attempt an accent that was Luisa’s natural tenor. He watched her, enthralled, almost able to believe that what she said was true and his past was before him once again, speaking from the grave.
Gabriel blinked. His jaw trembled. The pistol dipped again.
“I loved you,” Evangeline said, a thread of anguish in every syllable. “But I don’t know who you’ve become.”
Gabriel’s mouth opened, then closed. The weapon slipped from his hand, and he released her as if she were fire, stumbling back with a strangled cry. He dropped to his knees in the dirt like a man broken from the inside out.
Ezra moved.
He was off the horse and on Gabriel in a heartbeat, rage and relief crashing together. He slammed the butt of his pistol into Gabriel’s jaw. The man slumped sideways, unconscious before he hit the ground.
And then Evangeline was in his arms.
She stumbled toward him, and he caught her against his chest, holding her tight, pressing her head beneath his chin, as though he could shield her from the very memory of what had just occurred.
“Evangeline.” His voice cracked. “My God, you’re safe. You’re safe.”
She clutched the front of his coat, burying herself in him. She shook in his embrace, the aftermath of terror finally breaking loose in her limbs.
“You found me,” she breathed.
“I will always find you,” he said, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I thought I’d lost you again. I would have torn the world apart if I had to.”
She didn’t answer—only held him tighter, her fingers curling into the lapels of his coat. And there, surrounded by the wreckage of what might’ve been, Ezra felt her tremble against him. And then, finally, allowed herself to cry.