Married by Moonlight Read online

  “I know enough to be sure I couldn’t live without it,” she whispered.

  Lady Scott shrugged. “They were unfit for the distinction they craved. They would have ruined him.”

  Anna gasped. “Angela was perfect for him.”

  “Nonsense! Carmichael told me all about his little amours.” Lady Scott nodded quickly. “You’ll both be free to make the right decision now.”

  “I’ll be free when you’re hanged!” Carmichael insisted, taking a threatening step forward.

  “You will see that I am right soon enough. I will help you, as I always do.”

  “Help me? You’ve torn my heart from my chest and I’ll never find a love like that again!” Carmichael cried, turning away.

  “I did it for you,” Lady Scott whispered as she lowered her head to her hand. “I freed you.”

  “Did everyone hear her confess?” Gilbert asked.

  “Indeed.”

  Lady Scott looked up sharply. Fever-bright eyes turned toward Anna as her hair slowly tumbled down from its moorings. “I saw to her instruction personally. She will never behave anything less than a lady. She’ll always be loyal to him. She’d never be seduced by a pretty face.”

  “I was,” Anna murmured softly.

  Gilbert wanted to smile, but instinct had him tensing as Lady Scott’s eyes narrowed on him. “Husbands come and go.”

  He saw metal glint in Lady Scott’s hand, the moment before she lurched toward him and sank another blade into his side.

  Chapter 26

  Anna flew toward her husband as he hit the ground hard. The others tackled Lady Scott, but she had no time to see what became of her former mentor when her husband had been obviously attacked.

  She found Gilbert’s handkerchief even as she sought the location of an injury. “You’re all right,” she told him.

  Gilbert had his hand pressed to his side and she replaced his hand with the handkerchief and pushed firmly upon the wound.

  She shifted to cradle Gilbert’s head on her lap as the sounds of struggle rose beyond them. Gilbert might have predicted someone would be hurt tonight, but she wouldn’t lose him. She couldn’t bear the idea. “Don’t you dare not be all right!” Anna whispered.

  Gilbert struggled to lift his head, and Anna looked too when she realized silence had fallen in the room.

  The Bow Street Runners moved back. Carmichael and Lord Wade were sprawled on either side of Lady Scott, who was lying flat on the floor. The lady was struggling for breath, and the short blade she’d attacked Gilbert with protruded from her chest. It was impossible to know which man had stabbed Lady Scott.

  Her mentor, the woman she’d sought to make proud, had killed her closest friends. She had no words to express her shock and outrage.

  “You could have done so much better, Anna,” Lady Scott gasped, and then reached for Carmichael’s hand. “It was all for you, my dear.”

  Carmichael knocked her hand aside roughly. “Get away from me!”

  Portia edged closer, standing near Lord Wade, wringing her hands. “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Wade replied, turning away from Lady Scott.

  The pair drew closer together and it seemed they touched, but Anna couldn’t be sure from this angle. “You’re not going to faint, are you?”

  “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

  “Never,” she said, grinning at him.

  Anna turned back to Lady Scott as she continued talking.

  “When I heard you talk of the women you were courting, I couldn’t let you make the same mistake your father made. They’d never have made you proud. I saved you from making a terrible mistake.”

  “The only mistake I ever made was listening to your advice about the dangers of marrying too young,” Carmichael told her. “The title will become extinct when I die, thanks to you.”

  “I won’t allow…” Lady Scott’s breathing became ragged. She made one more sound, and then fell utterly silent all of a sudden. When Anna looked closely, she noticed her eyes were open, staring at Carmichael, but her chest did not rise and fall anymore.

  She had drawn her last breath, still convinced her way had been the right one.

  Carmichael closed her eyes and then collapsed onto his back with a groan.

  Davis checked Lady Scott’s wrist for a pulse. After a moment, he stood and brushed himself off. “She’s dead. It’s over.”

  Gilbert rested his head back on Anna’s lap and lifted a bloody hand toward her. “It is over, beautiful. Never again. I promise.”

  “Thank heavens for that.” Anna caught his hand and bent over her husband to kiss his lips. “How badly are you hurt?”

  “Not as badly as I first feared, but it stings like the very devil now.”

  “Fetch a doctor, Wade,” she begged of her friend.

  “At once,” Lord Wade replied. “Portia?”

  Portia ran to him and together they hurried from the room.

  Anna sagged and brushed his hair back from his brow. “I love you,” she whispered against his lips before kissing him.

  He was smiling when she drew back. “You do?”

  “I do,” she promised. She removed the cloth she’d wadded over the wound and noticed very little blood had flowed from it. “I was afraid she’d truly hurt you. The blade seemed so bright.”

  “And sharp, but it’s a shallow wound I think.” He peered at the wound, too. “I’ll still need a doctor though. Carmichael?”

  “You’ll need to find her maid and question her,” Carmichael suggested in a quiet voice. “The woman has been cleaning blood from her mistress’ clothing for two years at least that we know of. She’ll know when it started and why. I’m going to let Bow Street handle the rest.”

  Gilbert rolled off her lap toward Carmichael, groaning in pain. “You knew it was her before tonight?”

  “That day with Mrs. Lenthall. She came out the same year as Lady Scott.” Carmichael groaned. “I remember wondering why she’d never once mentioned those murders.”

  Her husband suddenly dragged himself across the floor toward Carmichael and wrenched Carmichael’s hand away from his stomach. “Damn it, why did you not say you were injured?”

  Anna crawled to Carmichael. “Price!”

  “She was quicker and stronger than I ever imagined,” Carmichael complained. He looked down at his stomach. “It’s all right, Anna. It doesn’t hurt so much now.”

  “You’re bleeding, you idiot.” She found a clean handkerchief in her friend’s coat pocket and pressed it to the wound. Carmichael groaned piteously. She cast a worried glance at her husband, who was holding his side again. “You lie down again. Help is coming.”

  “Little Miss Perfect needs to work on her bedside manner,” Carmichael complained.

  “That’s Lady Perfect to you,” Anna told Carmichael primly, then noticed how his blood was already soaking through the handkerchief and wetting her fingers. “He really needs that doctor.”

  The doors burst open and a man hurried to join them, urging Anna to relinquish her position over Carmichael’s wound. She moved to hold his head, determined to be any comfort she could be. “You can’t die. You said we would be friends now.”

  “I’ll try not to disappoint you by dying then.” Carmichael reached for her hand. Anna held his cold fingers as his wound was examined, probed and ultimately pronounced safe to be bound. Thankfully Carmichael fainted when the pain grew too great.

  When he’d been bandaged enough, the gentlemen lifted him up.

  “Where are you taking him?”

  “Home to recover,” one said.

  “But there is no one at his home to look after him properly. Not even a decent chef.” She glanced back to her husband, who was bandaged too but on his feet now. “He can come home with us, can’t he?”

  Carmichael had almost been living at Gilbert’s home before their marriage anyway, she’d learned. She would much rather know where Carmichael was than run back and forth between
their houses making sure he would be all right.

  Gilbert nodded. “We’ll look after him, but I need to stay and tie up any loose ends.”

  “But you’re hurt too,” she protested.

  “Just a scratch,” he promised, revealing his newly bandaged side was free of bloodstain.

  He did seem to be moving freely so she hoped agreeing wouldn’t be a mistake. “Very well.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on him and deliver your husband home to you safe and sound, my lady,” Lord Wade promised her as he returned to the room with his aunt on his arm.

  “Where is Portia?”

  His smile grew tense. “Where she’s always wanted to be.”

  Mrs. Lenthall came to stand over Lady Scott’s body. “No surprise here. Never did like each other.”

  “She nearly fooled us all,” Gilbert confessed.

  “You got there in the end,” Mrs. Lenthall offered graciously. “Carmichael will need you both more than ever after this betrayal. Don’t let him dwell too much.”

  “He will always have our support and my father’s.”

  Lady Scott’s face was covered to await the decision of what to do with her body. Anna didn’t care where she was buried. The woman had harmed her husband, killed her friends, and destroyed her godson’s happiness. That could not be forgiven. She was glad the nightmare was over.

  Gilbert came closer, his expression serious.

  She lifted up on her toes and kissed his lips to wipe the expression away. “How long will you be?”

  “A few hours, I suspect. As Carmichael suggested, her maid and all her household staff must be questioned. Her home searched for further evidence, too, although we have witnesses and those blades she carried as evidence.”

  “I’ll be waiting for you at home then,” she promised.

  “Good. Anna, before you go, I have one more thing to say to you.”

  “What is it?”

  He caressed her cheek. “I love you so much.”

  Anna kissed her husband deeply, blushing even as she did so. And then she kissed him again because she could. There was no reason to stop. They were married and in love with each other. “I think I fell for you the first night we kissed. So romantic.” She met his gaze boldly. She would have done anything he’d wanted that night. “Hurry home so I can kiss you some more.”

  “Nothing will keep me from you ever again,” he promised, and she believed he meant it, too.

  Epilogue

  Late summer, Kent

  * * *

  Anna sorted through the day’s mail. There were letters for herself, letters for their current houseguest and letters for her husband. Their guest’s letters gave off the most dreadful perfume, and she held them away from her nose. “Will you take these out to the terrace, please, Jane? Another of Lord Carmichael’s admirers has found out where he’s staying for the summer.”

  “Very good,” Jane replied, although sounding rather annoyed by the chore.

  Anna watched her companion leave, hiding her concern over how transparently in love the woman was with their guest. Not that Lord Carmichael saw Jane Lord’s devotion to him, nor would he act upon it if he did. Carmichael, for his part, seemed oblivious to most everything these days—everything beyond the absence of spirits at his elbow day and night.

  There wasn’t anything she could do for Carmichael. His loss was deep and his trust in others might never be fully recovered.

  What Anna could do was help her husband, however. She read the return addresses on the letters and knew what she must do.

  Gilbert had been out of sorts for days and she believed she knew why.

  She went to his study and entered without knocking. As she hoped, she managed to startle Gilbert from the papers and maps he rushed to hide from her. She took a deep breath and sat, watching his embarrassment grow. “I have today’s mail with me.”

  He stretched for them. “Good.”

  He read the inscriptions on all the letters, and then stared at one longer than any other. If she wasn’t mistaken, that was another letter from Mr. Davis, the Bow Street Runner.

  He set the letters aside.

  Anna wasn’t about to let him dismiss the problem without a fight. “Are you going to open that?”

  He wet his lips.

  “Gilbert, you promised we wouldn’t have secrets from each other,” she complained.

  “There are no secrets when my wife sees the mail before I do,” he grumbled, finally looking up at her. “I asked for it to be brought to me first. You know what he wants from me.”

  Help. “I do, and you know you want to go and see what you can do to assist his investigation,” she replied.

  “No, I don’t,” he countered, shoving the letters in the drawer roughly. “My responsibilities are here with my wife and the estate now.”

  Anna got up again and hurried around the desk. She forced her way onto his lap and hugged him tightly. “Of course you want to go and help the man. I’ve known for days you would go. I can manage here without you for a few weeks or months while you investigate.”

  He hugged her back. “It can be done without me.”

  She believed the task would be completed quicker with him than without, though. “Who better knows the criminal mind than the Almighty’s bloodhound?”

  “Don’t call me that,” he chided, trying to escape the title he had earned long ago. Her husband was a skilled investigator, and she couldn’t be prouder. Because she loved him, she could never hold him back.

  Anna hugged him. “You’ll write every day you’re gone?”

  He sighed against her throat. His fingers rose to cup her face and he pulled her closer against him. “Every morning and every night, I swear.”

  “Good. Now, I have your valet already packing for your trip. The carriage will be before the house in an hour. Do you need anything from me?”

  He shook his head, smiling. “I vowed to give up this grisly business when we married.”

  “I never asked you to.” She smiled and ran her fingers through his hair, soaking up the sight of him.

  “You could,” he suggested. He moved his hand down her leg and back up. “I would do anything you wanted of me.”

  She smiled. “My love is without conditions, but if you wanted to do something for me, you could take Carmichael with you.”

  “Is he annoying you again?”

  “Not yet, but he cuts such a tragic figure that he’s in danger of breaking a heart very close to me without knowing it.”

  “Your companion?”

  Anna nodded, toying with the buttons on his waistcoat. “I’m worried about her interest in him. About him, too. He’s drinking far too much.”

  “Then he comes with me, and perhaps I’ll drop him off at your father’s before I come home.” He smiled suddenly. “I have the very best idea, too. Let’s delay the carriage one more hour.”

  “Why?”

  He caught her tight against his chest and stood, making her gasp from the sudden movement. He grinned down at her. “I’m afraid that I’m going to need to make love to my beautiful wife just one more time before she makes me leave her behind to consort with the criminal class.”

  “With Bow Street. It is an honest calling,” Anna corrected him. She loved him so much, and she would remind him what he would come home to when the investigation was over. “I was hoping you would want me.”

  “From the very moment our eyes met, my lady,” he vowed.

  The Distinguished Rogues will continue with The Duke’s Heart.

  The Distinguished Rogues Series

  Book 1: Chills (FREE READ)

  The rogue she can’t have is the only one she wants.

  * * *

  Book 2: Broken

  His wicked ways could be the best hope for her future.

  * * *

  Book 3: Charity

  Reclaiming the love of his life is bound to break a few rules.

  * * *

  Book 4: An Accidental Affair


  Being good was a damned nuisance!

  * * *

  Book 5: Keepsake

  The runaway bride is back to cause trouble!

  * * *

  Book 6: An Improper Proposal

  Educating the innocent might have been a mistake.

  * * *

  Book 7: Reason to Wed

  Duty is the last thing on his mind once they kiss.

  * * *

  Book 8: The Trouble with Love

  Keeping a promise has never been harder!

  Coming soon!

  The Duke and I

  Saints and Sinners #1

  Chapter One

  Nicolas Westfall loathed the excesses of the festive season. His estate, his very home, was awash in lively chatter and the ever-present threat of standing beneath a maliciously placed clump of mistletoe.

  Nicolas was far too old for such nonsense at four and forty years, and if he did kiss anyone, he certainly wouldn’t advertise the fact in a public display of affection.

  That was why he suppressed an oath as Miss Natalia Hawthorne’s eyes flashed as she moved closer. Sensing danger, he glanced up, noted he was near another clump, and hastily took a pace back. His neighbor’s daughter was far too young to be chasing after him. She was only eighteen, a year older than his youngest daughter, for God’s sake.

  Miss Hawthorne pouted. “La, your grace. You are a tease.”

  He was not. What he was feeling was entirely murderous toward the woman who’d formed the guest list and included such a flirt in their number. He should never have opened his home to guests for this farce, a weeklong Christmas party to prepare his youngest child, Jessica, for her coming out during the upcoming summer. Nicolas had felt this a bad idea from the very beginning and discovered so at every turn. However, his oldest daughter had pushed, and even Jessica’s companion had agreed a party that included family would be beneficial.