As Vanessa’s eyes widened, Bonham scowled. “What do you know about it? You’ve never suffered a day in your life.”
“No? I lost my father and my uncle all in the same year, thanks to you. So I know quite a bit about suffering.”
Someone burst through the study door behind Sheridan. “William!” a voice cried. “What on earth are you doing?”
It was Mother, damn it. “Get out of here,” Sheridan said, never taking his eyes off Bonham. “I’ll handle this.”
“I’m not leaving,” she said stoutly. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.”
Sheridan debated how much to reveal. But she might know something the rest of them didn’t, something to help save Vanessa. “Bonham killed your husbands,” Sheridan said. “And Uncle Armie and Elias.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Mother said. “He would never . . . He couldn’t . . .” She trailed off as she realized Bonham hadn’t defended himself.
“He’s not the man you think he is,” Sheridan said. “You would have known him as Henry Davenport.”
“Matthew’s brother?” she whispered.
“Yes. So you knew Henry, too, did you?” Sheridan asked.
“I never met him, no, but I heard Matthew speak of him. Matthew said he was quite clever.”
Bonham scowled at Sheridan. “How did you find out my real name?”
“I didn’t. My brother-in-law did. Once he realized you’d made yourself over, the rest was easy. You didn’t hide your tracks nearly as well as you thought.”
Bonham fixed Sheridan’s mother with a stare that would freeze blood. “Thanks to you, I lost everything, you know. Matthew killed himself, and my entire family was ruined, all because you thought him beneath you.”
“That’s not true!” Mother protested. “I would happily have married Matthew if I could have! But Mama had already convinced Papa to betroth me to Grey’s father in exchange for forgiveness of certain debts. They told me if I didn’t marry the duke, Papa would go to debtors’ prison. I was young, and I . . . didn’t understand I had a choice.”
“Liar!” Bonham spat, his face contorted with rage. “You broke Matthew’s heart. You told him you didn’t want him.”
Mother glared at him. “By the time Matthew proposed, I was already betrothed! And my fiancé threatened to kill Matthew if I so much as breathed a word about the circumstances of our impending marriage.” Her breath caught in her throat. “It didn’t matter. Matthew died anyway.”
“He didn’t die. He killed himself, you . . . you harpy! You might as well have tied the rope around his throat yourself.” Bonham’s pistol hand shook.
Sheridan’s blood ran cold. If that arse harmed Vanessa—“See here, Bonham, whatever your conflicts with my mother, my wife has done nothing to you. She doesn’t deserve to die. Take me instead.”
“The hell I will.” Bonham glanced from Sheridan to his mother. “If I take anyone in exchange, it will be the dowager duchess.”
God, the man’s hatred of Mother went beyond all bounds.
“I don’t understand, Will—I mean, Henry,” Mother said. “How could you pretend to be my friend this past year or more when secretly you despised me so?”
Sheridan wondered that himself. Perhaps Mother, as Bonham’s “friend,” could convince the arse to let Vanessa go.
If only the bastard would move his damned pistol. Sheridan was more than ready to shoot.
Gwyn burst into the room. “Mother!” she cried, trying to tug their mother from the room. “Come, we must go. Let Sheridan take care of this.”
“So,” Sheridan said to Bonham, “there’s four of us here now. Do you plan to kill us all? Because I swear that if you shoot Vanessa, you’re a dead man.” He stepped closer to the desk. “I will throttle you before you can even reload.”
Having seen Sheridan on the move—and his wife in the room—Joshua loomed up closer to the French doors, making sure not to be directly behind Bonham in case Sheridan got off a shot.
Gwyn at least knew to ignore the sight of her husband where he wasn’t supposed to be, but their mother was startled and clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from crying out. As Bonham had said, he was no fool. When he saw her reaction, he turned toward the glass doors, and the pistol left Vanessa’s head for a few precious seconds.
Sheridan knew that might be the only chance he got, and apparently Vanessa read his intention, because in that moment, she twisted away from Bonham and his pistol. And Sheridan took his chance and shot.
The bullet went clean into Bonham’s head.
Then everything happened at once. Bonham crumpled to the floor. Joshua burst through the French doors and used his cane to sweep Bonham’s still-loaded pistol away from the man before bending to check Bonham’s pulse. And Vanessa threw herself at Sheridan.
“Oh, darling, I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t realize he had sneaked in until it was too late to hide my notes, and he’d—”
“It’s fine, sweetheart. Nothing is your fault. You did well, and it’s over now. Finally, it’s over.” He grabbed her by the shoulders and ran his gaze over her. “He didn’t hurt you, did he? You’re all right?”
“Of course I’m all right.” She cast him a tremulous smile. “I’m with you, aren’t I?”
“You will always be with me, if I have anything to say about it.”
Joshua came up to them and murmured, “He’s dead. I’ll send for Fitzgerald. I’ll explain everything to him. You might want to take Vanessa out of here, though.” He glanced behind them. “It looks like Gwyn has already whisked your mother away.”
With a nod, Sheridan looked over to find Vanessa staring back at Bonham with horror on her face. “Come, sweetheart, let’s go outside.”
In the courtyard, she could see the winter roses and the ivy and all the things that made her happy. And he could keep an eye out for when Lucius Fitzgerald, undersecretary to the War Secretary, arrived and needed to speak to him. Thank God for Joshua and his connections in government.
As soon as they were out there, he caught her to him and kissed her forehead and cheeks and every part of her face dear to him, which was pretty much every part of her face. “I love you, my sweet, brave duchess. I should have said it before I had to face the possibility of losing you, but—”
“You love me?” she said, her eyes alight. “You mean that?”
He smiled. “Cross my heart and hope not to die. At least not until we’re old and gray.”
“Then I suppose I can admit I love you, too, with all my heart and mind and body.” She kissed him just long enough to have him craving her again.
But when he tried to deepen the kiss, she pulled away. “What about Helene?” she asked hesitantly.
“What about her?”
“You said you didn’t want to love again. Because of her.”
“To quote my brilliant sister, ‘You don’t choose love; love chooses you. You have no say or recourse, and when it happens, resistance is pointless.’ I’ve been fighting hard to resist you, with absolutely no success.”