His hands came up and bracketed her shoulders, and he gently put her behind him, shielding her from her half brother. She rested her hands high on his back and her forehead on her hands, grateful for his protection and strength.
“Percival, you make me regret saving your miserable hide,” Evan said.
“You have no idea who told Fitzroy to try to kill the prince?” Marcus asked.
“No. I didn’t know he was going to try. I don’t know anything more than I’ve told you. I’m a victim here.”
Evan tensed under her hands, and she grabbed him from behind. “Don’t kill him. Please.” It would be too much to explain, and she had no desire to see her husband go to the gallows, not for the likes of her worthless relative.
Marcus narrowed his eyes, disgust etching his features.
“Get out.” Evan’s voice cut the air like a razor. “Get out of my house and never come back. If we are ever at the same function in the future, you will not speak to us, you will not acknowledge us in any way, and you will never try to contact us. If you do, I won’t be responsible for my actions. Do you understand?”
Percival nodded and scrambled to his feet.
“And what’s more,” Marcus said, his voice equally deadly. “Know that you will be watched every day for the rest of your miserable life. I’ll know where you go, who you are with, and why. If you put so much as a buckled shoe wrong, you’ll find yourself either standing in the dock or on a boat to Botany Bay.”
Evan went to the door, unlocked it, and held it open. “Don’t even stop to pack your bags. We’ll send your belongings back with your father. Get out.”
Scuttle wasn’t too strong a word for what Percival did, head down, shoulders bent, feet churning.
Marcus followed him. “I’ll make sure he leaves.” He closed the door behind him, leaving Evan and Diana alone.
She stood there, feeling ashamed and uncertain and guilty. She came from a family of rotters. There was no denying her corrupt relations. She wouldn’t blame him if he wanted to cast her out too.
And then Evan did exactly the right thing.
He opened his arms.
She didn’t need a second invitation. Tears burning her eyes, she went into his embrace, pressing her cheek to his chest and wrapping her arms around his waist. He stroked her hair, her shoulders, her back, squeezing her tight and resting his chin on her head. Finally, she raised her head to look at him.
“Diana. Why didn’t you tell me what Fitzroy threatened?” He cradled her face in his hands.
The anguish in his eyes drove deeply into her heart. She blinked, and two tears tracked down her cheeks. “I was afraid for such a long time. I had promised Catherine I wouldn’t tell her secret. And Fitzroy …” She gulped, his name stumbling out of her mouth. “He said the prince had sent him, and I knew if I told you, you would quite possibly beat him to mush and toss him off the estate. I didn’t want to cause trouble between you and the prince, especially if the prince expected Fitzroy and Percival to be here. And if you remember, we were out of countenance with one another when they arrived. I didn’t know if you would ever listen to me again, you were so angry about Cian.”
She shook her head. “I’m so sorry. If I had been honest with you from the start, you could have protected Cian, protected me, and none of this would’ve happened. I should’ve asked you, that first night we spent together, when a nightmare awoke you. You shouted the name ‘Bracken.’ I knew Fitzroy’s given name, but I was afraid for Cian. I couldn’t think how you knew or what you knew. If I had spoken up then, perhaps your memory would’ve returned sooner and we and the prince would’ve been spared all this.”
Where she expected censure, felt she deserved it, he surprised her. Softness entered his piercing blue eyes, and he raised her chin as he lowered his lips to hers. Brushing gently across her mouth at first, he tightened his embrace and took possession of her, searing her to her toes, washing away the hurt and fear and secrets. She melted into him, entwining her arms around his neck, kissing him back as her tears lent a salty flavor.
“I love you, Diana Eldridge, Lady Whitelock,” he whispered against her skin, sending gooseflesh coursing down her arms. “I think I loved you the moment I first saw you in that ridiculous court dress and ostrich feathers.”
He had never said those words to her before. He loved her. Which gave her the freedom to say aloud what she felt for him.
“I love you, Evan Eldridge. I think I fell in love with you when you first held Cian in the carriage, even though you thought he was a nobody child of an unwed maid.” She nuzzled her temple against his chin, feeling the slight rasp of whiskers, inhaling the scent of his soap and tang of gunpowder that clung to him.
He kissed her again and again, holding her against him as if he never wanted to let her go. Joy burst like rockets behind her eyelids. He loved her. She loved him. She, who had never been loved, was loved by a good man. If she ever needed proof that God heard her prayers, this was it.
Finally he withdrew by increments, coming back for shorter kisses as if loathe to stop. He rested his forehead against hers. “I wish we didn’t have a houseful of important guests. I’d sweep you up into my arms and march to our room and lock the door. I wouldn’t care if we didn’t leave it for at least a week.” He sighed.
Diana thought that a wonderful proposition.
“But we should at least see how the prince is doing and apprise him of developments, don’t you think?”
Smiling, blinking hard, she nodded, trying to come back to reality. “I suppose it’s what a good host and hostess would do. Oh my, I must look a fright.” She patted her hair, aware that it was mussed. Her eyes were probably red and her cheeks blotchy too.
“You look like you’ve just been thoroughly kissed.” He grinned. “You look perfect to me, but we can stop by your room on the way to the Royal Apartments so you can tidy up.”
As they left the library, they heard raised voices from the back hallway.
“What now?” Evan asked.
He pressed his hand to the green baize-covered door that separated the front of the house from that area dominated by the domestics, and Diana put her fingers to her lips.
Shand and Louisa stood face to face in the back entryway, silhouetted in the light from the open door. “Woman, I tell you, I’m not hurt. His Lordship shot the man from two hundred yards away. He died quick. This blood isn’t mine. It’s the viscount’s. I had to load him onto a horse to bring him back.”
Louisa’s face crumpled, and she launched herself into his arms, sobbing on his shoulder. “I feared you were hurt. Anything can happen when there are scoundrels about.” The words came out muffled and distorted by crying, but the meaning was plain.
Diana met Evan’s eyes, clapping her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle of surprise.
Shand put his arms around Louisa, hugging her tight. “Silly woman. I don’t know where you get your notions. A lesser man would be insulted that you thought so little of his abilities.”
“Don’t you call me silly. I was right to worry …”
Evan softly closed the door, drawing Diana away with him toward the front hall.
“Well, if that doesn’t take the biscuit. Did you suspect those two?” he asked in a whisper.