by Anna Macy
“Hold on there, big man,” Bohart said, stepping into the circle, his hands raised towards Demetri. “Not that I’d turn it down, but I didn’t come to fight.” Bohart looked over his shoulder and whistled sharply.
“Jenkins, get yourself in here.” A tall, skinny man poked his head around the edge of the doorway behind everyone. He shared Bohart’s red hair, but that’s where the resemblance ended. He was skittered into the room, his arms laden with stacks of papers, all bound together with string.
As soon as he reached Bogart’s side, the larger redhead picked up one and pointed at Marshall with it. “You, Pinecrest, are in far more trouble than being banned from my club. I have here records from several establishments in London who are all looking for you. It seems that it’s time to pay your debts.”
Marshall went white as snow, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he stared at the booklets. He didn’t look at his wife, who now stepped forward as if to take the papers before she stopped herself.
“However, I have here, in my possession, an account from Lord Henry Faber’s financial institution that says, pending, paid in full at the conclusion of the wedding.” Bohart looked at William. “You were right, my friend.” William almost sagged in relief, but Juliet was still confused.
“That could mean anything?” Faber sputtered, spittle flying into the air at his angry words. “You can’t scare me, Bohart. I’ve known you too long.”
Bohart stepped towards the man, his expression deadly, “Usually, the longer people know me, the more scared they are. So, allow me to change your perspective. When William brought this idea to me, I was quickly able to find records in the books, the debts, the general dirty business. It was easy, to be honest,” Bohart stopped, his eyebrow quirked at William for a moment.
“But what did my source find? Even more interesting. It seemed that there was another already investigating you both. How convenient for us all.” Bohart's eyes were solemn as he looked at the group, which remained silent except for the raspy breathing coming from Faber.
“It took minimal effort to convince him to step forward and help us. As his mistress is already here as well.” Juliet startled, looking immediately to Marian, who shook her head just once, eyes wide and engrossed as Bohart spun his tale.
Bohart whistled one more time, and a stiff, bald man bustled through the door, his dark hat pressed against his chest as his nervous eyes jumped about the room. He seemed happiest to lurk in Bohat’s shadow as he faced each of them.
For a painful minute, no one moved. Juliet longed to rush to William but stayed where she was, desperate to know more.
“Tell them what you have,” Bohart said finally, nudging his newest companion with an elbow. The shifty character took a step towards the group, clearing his throat as he moved.
“I have proof, hidden somewhere safe, that implicates not only Marshall Pinecrest and Henry Faber in illegal gambling operation but also in the attempted coverup of the same crime ten years ago that took someone’s life.” His voice grew louder with every declaration. “It was the cover-up that left the Earl of Greystone dead.”
Gasps filled the space. Juliet’s head felt light as she stared around the table.
“Thank you, Volland, that will be quite enough,” Elizabeth said sharply, half the room jumping as she moved confidently into the middle of the room. With all eyes on her, she raised her brow, looking down at the same man.
“Of course, mistress,” Volland said, shifting his weight from one foot to another nervously as the room stared at the two of them. Then as one, the cluster turned to look at Marshall and Faber. While Marshall was looking down at his feet, Faber was fidgeting nervously, getting closer and closer to Juliet, angry curses spilling out under his breath.
Juliet’s mind was racing, her eyes finding Williams and latching onto them for strength. Faber and Marshall had killed her father? And why did the investigator answer to her mother?
“You have no idea what you are talking about, you rat,” Faber said, his voice practically a growl, his face sweating profusely now. William and Bohart both took a step towards the banker, his crazed expression clear for everyone to see.
“I didn’t hurt that man. That was Pinecrest! He owed me. Just like he owes me now!” Faber shouted, his arms whirling in the air in his fit of passion. “He’s too dumb to do anything at the tables. I’m not sure how I ever trusted him to do something as simple as drive the correct person off the road.”
Faber turned to Juliet, licking his lips sloppily, one hand smoothing down what little hair he had left. “I had no qualms with your father, Juliet; it was supposed to the Duke in that carriage. An honest mistake. Don’t you see?”
Juliet felt her heart pounding in her ears even as her legs carried her forward. One more step and she would have him, and she was going to land her hand right across his hideous, murdering face. This man, this monster, had killed her father over nothing—all for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“Juliet I -.” Faber took one more step forward when Marian, who Juliet had almost forgotten about, launched towards the frantic man. Her tiny fist balled up, she punched him straight across his left cheek.
For a moment, time stopped. Then it erupted. With a roar, Lord Faber launched towards them, throwing Marian harshly to the ground in his haste to wrap his hands around Juliet’s neck.
Bohart let out a shout of his own, staggering towards the pair in step with William, whose face was dangerously dark. Juliet gasped at Faber’s clammy hands on her body, crumbling away from him when she suddenly felt a cold metallic press into the side of her neck.
Bohart and William immediately halted, their faces twin deadly looks of anger. Elizabeth stood over Marshall, who remained sitting at the dining table, his hands in his hair. Her mother’s face was one of horror.
Juliet realized that the man she had once danced with at Nicholas’ Summer Ball was gone or had probably never existed. This man, Henry Faber, was neither harmless nor kind, he was dangerous and vindictive, and he was the one responsible for her father’s murder. Now he held the long neck of a pistol against her throat.
“Easy, Henry, what are you doing?” William said, his smooth voice low and comforting.
“What do you think I’m doing?” Faber shouted hysterically. “I’m leaving. And she is coming with me!”
“No, Faber, she’s not,” William said in that same quiet voice. Juliet realized then that he was using that voice for her. She stared straight at William, biting down on her bottom lip, trying to convey in a look what she wanted to say a hundred times over.
Faber tightened his hold on her neck, yanking her body against his swollen belly. Forcing her body to bow out around his, inadvertently acting as a shield between her father’s murderer and the one she loved most.
Bohart took a moment to reach down and, as if she weighed as much as a kitten, slung Marian up and into his arms. Stepping back, Bohart nodded to William, offering support but not interference as Faber continued to unravel. Juliet could tell that her captor was losing his grip on both his sanity and his grip on the weapon.
Taking a deep breath, she thought back to her father, to his lessons. William was still trying to ease his way closer to Juliet and Faber as Faber backed them into the main foyer.
When Faber hesitated at the door, Juliet knew her moment was staring her in the face. Silently mouthing, ‘I love you’ to William, she balled up her fist, and using her other hand Juliet thrust her elbow as hard as she could into his gut.
Faber let out a startled grunt, stumbling back, and as he did, Juliet threw herself forward and away from him. Moments later, William tackled him to the ground, quickly wrestling away the gun and tucking it into the back of his trousers. At first, Faber continued to flounder under William’s body, bellowing out his anger and vengeance at all of them.
Echoing in from the dining hall came the sour voice, “Oh, do shut up, Henry. You’re embarrassing yourself.”
It had been Marshall. And
while everyone was surprised to hear it, his words did silence Faber, who lay quietly now, bloodshot eyes trained on Juliet as she stumbled to lean against the banister.
Bohart spoke up sharply from behind them.
“The constable will be here shortly. Might as well enjoy what time you have left.”
Marshall raised a wine glass from where he sat and quickly downed the entire thing, reaching for another leftover from dinner. William slowly stood, letting Faber roll to one side and sit up, his chest heaving in exertion.
“Sit,” William growled before walking away. Bohart had placed Marian safely on a chair in the attached parlor and returned, crossing his massive arms as he stared down both Marshall and Faber. Demetri seemed to have disappeared in the foray and accusations.
William strode up to her. His face was serious, his eyes wild as he put both hands on her face, staring at her intently.
“Are you okay?” he whispered urgently, his fingers gliding across her skin, “Truly?”
“Truly,” Juliet said softly, leaning her forehead into the warmth of his body. Then, to lighten the mood, “This is the worst wedding I’ve ever been to.” His half-hearted chuckle echoed her own.
William stroked the small of her back with one hand, the motions soothing. Not believing her earlier statement, he clearly remained frightened that she might collapse at any moment. But really, he might be right; Juliet felt like her head was so full of these fresh, vivid memories that there wasn’t room enough for the basics like breathing or thinking straight.
Forcing herself to try more deep breaths in an effort to calm the blood singing in her veins, Juliet gathered her scattered wits and managed pride. She had something she had to tell him; she would never be caught holding back again.
She tilted her head up to look at the man she loved that she desperately wanted to tell about her feelings. But she caught sight of her mother staring at them, her dark, unreadable eyes filled with tears. Volland, her investigator, hoovered just off her shoulder.
Elizabeth stared straight at her daughter, with excruciating slowness, her red lips parted in a loving smile. After a moment, her mouth formed the silent words that Juliet had longed to hear for as long as she could remember.
“I’m sorry.”
That was the last thing Juliet remembered before the starry vision turned to black, and a pair of strong arms swept her up to carry her away from this nightmare.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
When Marian opened her eyes again, it was late in the night, and she was in her bedroom. She immediately saw William standing by the window, his tall frame outlined in the soft apricot glow from the fireplace.
Even from here, she could see the worry, the concern on his face. Pushing up on one elbow, Juliet let her body acclimate. But unlike earlier, the world stayed level, and she slowly sat up.
“Juliet,” William rushed to her side, immediately joined by Marian, who had been sitting curled by the fire. “How are you feeling?”
Juliet raised her eyebrows, and William flinched, while Marian snickered softly. “How do you feel considering the situation?” William amended, his handsome face drawn and pale.
“I feel alright,” Juliet said, a half-smile pulling at her lips. “About all of it. Or at least the part I understand.” She looked down at the bedspread and gasped, her fingers tracing the bulky bandage wrapping Marian’s right wrist and hand.
“Marian, what happened?”
Marian flushed, picking up the injured hand, and attempted to wiggle her fingers for her friend’s amusement. “I do not have a very good right hook. Mr. Bohart said it was a valiant attempt, but pitiful execution.”
Juliet grinned at her dear friend. “I thought you were magnificent.” Marian pinked even further.
“Not like you, Juliet, you were so brave, standing up to that awful man.”
Juliet’s head snapped to William. “What happened to Faber? To Marshall?”
“The constable was here a bit ago to pick them up. They will be taken down to the courtyard and charged for their crimes. Vollund, Bohart, and I turned over all the evidence we had.”
“How did you know?” Juliet asked, she and Marian looking at William inquisitively.
“Honestly, we were originally operating under the assumption that Pinecrest had been blackmailed into promising you to Faber. But the further we got, the deeper the story went. And when Bohart told me he had found a valuable source, I knew that we had to act sooner rather than later.” William said, his fingers gently stroking the top of her hand on the bed.
“I’m sorry we kept you in the dark, both of you, but we didn’t know what kind of people we were dealing with and didn’t want anyone to be in danger.” William finished, his face sheepish as he looked at Juliet.
“I understand, but please, let’s never do that again,” Juliet said.
“Do what specifically?” William said, grinning. “The impromptu wedding? The pistol plays?”
“Not tell each other things,” Juliet answered promptly, her eyes sliding urgently over his face, absorbing every minute detail of who she treasured most.
“Oh, goodness, you two are ridiculous. This is where I take my leave,” Marian said, smiling and standing to go to the door, her bandaged hand raised to eye level as she pretended to shield herself from the sight of them.
“Marian. Better get that hand looked at again; I think some of the bandages might have shifted.” William said after her, his silvery eyes flashing.
“What? Are you sure?” Marian looked over the immaculately wrapped appendage, her face serious.
“Yes, I’m sure Bohart would like to take one more look at it,” William said, his voice full of teasing. “The first two rewraps were clearly not up to snuff.”
“Oh, you!” Marian scolded, her face blossoming into a brilliant shade of red Juliet had never seen. Stomping out of the room, the blond woman threw vulgar curses over her shoulder as she went.
Juliet raised her eyebrows at William, who laughed. “Bohart? Really?” Juliet asked, shifting slightly on the bed so William could make himself more comfortable alongside her.
“He’s a good man. Maybe even a great one.” William was pensive, his gentle fingers tucking a wayward brown strand behind her ears. “Besides, crazier things have happened. Once I was visiting a friend, and the daughter of an Earl accosted me in my bedroom.”
Juliet swatted at his shoulder, blushing prettily at his knowing smile. “But then even crazier was how I couldn’t forget her, and now I find myself not wanting to be without her.”
Juliet’s heart thumped in her chest, her chest aching at the love that filled her every void. William’s face grew serious, almost studious as he looked into her face.
“I know that this day has been a wild ride. But Juliet, seeing you in his arms, afraid I might lose you forever, it would’ve killed me.” William leaned forward, brushing his warm lips over hers in a caress so sweet that made her heart clench.
“Marry me, Juliet. Choose me. Love me, the way I love you.” William said passionately, his voice quaked.
Closing her eyes, she let her forehead fall against his chest, biting her lip hard as she choked back hot tears. “I thought you were supposed to get down on one knee. Present me with a ring?” Juliet looked up at him, her fingers feeling their way up to his chest to his face where she cupped his jaw, gently stroking the rough skin there.
William snorted. “And do things that usual way? Absolutely not.” His fingers moved her face upwards so that he could look directly into her eyes. There, he waited, his handsome face filled with love and adoration.
“Yes,” Juliet answered softly, moving her lips up to his. “I choose you. Yes. I love you.” With a strangled groan, William swept his arms around her, his lips taking hers in a gentle, loving kiss.
Hooking her leg around his, Juliet dragged him down into the bed with her, determined once and for all to give him the welcome she had been craving. For once, no one dared to interrupt them.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Three months later
The first rays of the sun shone brightly across the bed. Juliet groaned, shrinking away from the glaring flares of light. Ducking back against her pillow, Juliet felt the heavy, warm heat that was William. With practiced precision, she tucked herself under his arm, laying her cheek on his chest, letting the steady beat of his heart soothe her ragged heart.
It had been a busy season. First, there had been an intense and lengthy discussion with her mother, where finally, after all these years, Juliet had gotten the full story. How her mother had fallen in love with the handsome, charming Marshall Pinecrest, only to grow increasingly suspicious of her new husband as time passed.