Chapter Twenty-Five

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

EVELINE/HELENA

T rembling, Eveline shoved a fist into her mouth to prevent her terror from escaping and crouched down, peering over Miss Webb's shoulder at the man who'd tormented her dreams for months.

Larger than she remembered, Humphrey doubled in size as he lumbered to the middle of the foyer. When he reached Miss Drummond's corpse, he turned, his dark green eyes passing over the curious faces.

Gulping, Eveline ducked and slid one foot backward, shifting her weight, then moved the other, inching toward the ballroom. Her gaze never left Humphrey. She continued in this manner until she crashed into Mrs. Creasey, whose clamorous complaint drew the attention of several nearby people.

Eveline whispered repeated apologies, her voice dying as Humphrey's deep baritone boomed through the foyer.

"Who's responsible for this tragedy?" He glared at Mr. Venning. "Uncle? My mother entrusted Selina to your care."

Misery passed through Mr. Venning's eyes. "A man admitted to pushing your sister over the banister."

Humphrey squeezed his hand into a fist, his knuckles cracking. "Give me a name."

Mr. Venning glanced at the Duke of Lennox and Mr. Hughes as though uncertain if he should reveal the information, then said, "Mr. Ernest Braddock."

A dark cloud permeated Humphrey's features. "Ernest Braddock. As in, my fiancée's brother?"

The Duke of Lennox stepped around Mr. Hughes and jutted out his chin. "Miss Braddock is engaged to me."

Humphrey's eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"

"Levi Overton, Duke of Lennox."

Without warning, Humphrey swung, his clenched fist connecting with the Duke of Lennox's jaw and sending him stumbling backward into the Duke of Grisham, who steadied him.

"You've been misinformed, Your Grace." Humphrey straightened his jacket. "Miss Braddock is mine."

Murmurs rippled through the foyer, swirling around Eveline. Before Mrs. Creasey could point out her location, Eveline turned and darted into the ballroom, exhaling a shuddering breath as Humphrey's voice faded.

Nothing would deter Humphrey. He'd struck the Duke of Lennox as though he were the titled man who feared no repercussions for the disrespectful act.

She'd been foolish to believe the Duke of Lennox, or any other man, could protect her from Humphrey, and with Ernest in prison for murder—an act she was wholly certain he hadn't committed—she possessed no other champion.

Wincing as her heels echoed in the empty ballroom, Eveline dashed across the dance floor, heading for the auxiliary exit. She skidded to a stop, sliding on the slick surface and grabbing hold of the doorway to prevent herself from zooming into the darkened corridor.

She doubted Humphrey's vision was exemplary enough to find her hiding in the hallway's shadows, but the thought gave her pause, and she froze, her fingers wrapped around the door frame. Exhaling a soft breath, she forced the upper half of her body forward, peeking around the corner.

Humphrey stood facing her, or more specifically, facing the Duke of Lennox, who'd raised his fists and shifted back and forth on the balls of his feet. Between them, his arms outstretched, stood Mr. Hughes.

"I'm certain an understanding can be reached," Mr. Hughes said, his hand pressing against Humphrey's chest. "Perhaps the lady?—"

"It's not her decision." Humphrey's black eyes locked on Eveline.

Gasping, Eveline jerked her head back, her heart thrumming.

"Whose decision is it?" the Duke of Lennox growled. "Yours?"

Eveline peered around the side, exposing only one-half of her face.

Smooshed between both men, Mr. Hughes attempted in vain to shove their chests backward. "May I suggest we move this discussion somewhere private?"

"You can use my study," Mr. Venning said from his protective position beside Miss Drummond's body, pointing to a door roughly ten feet across from Eveline.

The Duke of Lennox nodded once, then Humphrey, each of them lowering their hands.

"If everyone else would return to the ballroom," Mr. Hughes said, raising his voice. "We will get the matter sorted and release you."

The assembly split into two groups, with most of them shoving through the first entryway to the ballroom. Those who didn't wish to wait bypassed the entrance in favor of Eveline's and strolled down the corridor toward her.

Before anyone recognized her, she hastened out of the ballroom and hurried in the opposite direction of the foyer. Opening the first door she discovered, Eveline squeezed through the small space, shut the door with a light click, and pressed her ear to the wood, listening for any approaching voice.

She hadn't yet determined how to exit the Venning's residence without anyone noticing her. Turning around, her eyes slid over rows of bookshelves, seeking a window. Nestled in an alcove, a bank of three windows provided a potential solution.

Would she fit?

A shiver rolled through her body as if a cold wind slipped under the closed door and lowered the temperature in the library. Glancing over her shoulder, she swallowed and backed away from the door.

The handle depressed, and the door inched forward.

Eveline ran to the window and ducked behind the long, blue drapes, pulling the material around her dress as the door opened and closed. Holding her breath, she pressed her back against the freezing cold windowpane and gasped, clamping her hand over her mouth.

"Eveline." The deep voice turned her blood to ice. "I know you're in here."

She didn't move.

"The Duke… of something decided he'd rather step aside than encounter the ramifications of attempting to steal my fiancée."

Humphrey had to be lying.

"If I have to drag you out, you'll regret forcing me to do so."

She still didn't move.

A hand punched through the drape and closed around her arm, yanking her away from the wall and flinging her halfway across the library. Eveline crashed into a low table, pain exploding in her body, and knocked the books askew as she tumbled off the side of the table onto the floor.

She moaned, rolling side to side. Little black spots danced in her vision.

Humphrey strode over and leaned over. Digging his fingers into her hair, he jerked her head up, forcing her to stare into his eyes.

"I missed you," he said, a dark smile stretching his mouth into a terrifying grin. "I told you that I'd always come for you."

"Ernest ended the engagement," she whimpered, a tear leaking down her face.

"Ernest… Ernest…" Humphrey tilted his head as though considering Eveline's words. "The man who murdered my sister? No, I don't recall any conversation with him about dissolving our connection."

"That's a lie!" Eveline pushed up and swung her fist at him.

His left palm swallowed her hand, crushing her fingers until she cried out. Then he threw her arm away and stood, dragging Eveline to her feet by her hair.

"I will claim you tonight, but my uncle's library isn't the most private location." He jerked her body against his, grinding himself into her. "And I don't wish us to be interrupted."

"I refuse you," she whispered.

"Pardon?" His eyes blazed. "I didn't hear you."

"I refuse to marry you."

Humphrey's arm whipped out, and he slapped Eveline across the face. Her legs buckled from the force, and she dropped to the floor, expelling a low groan. Bearing down on her, Humphrey shoved his hand into his jacket and retrieved a penknife. Unfolding the knife, Humphrey lifted the blade, catching the light from the flames flickering in the fireplace.

"You will learn your place," he growled, pointing the tip at her. "Get up."

Woozy, Eveline climbed to her feet, swaying unsteadily.

"Walk to the door."

Dragging across the room, Eveline's bleary gaze focused on the door handle. She stumbled, struggling to retain her balance. Humphrey moved behind her, then wrapped his arms around her torso and pulled her against his body. The knife blade slid across her throat, pressing into her skin.

"If you scream," he murmured, "I'll slit your neck. Do you understand?"

She nodded, tears streaming down her face.

"When you exit, turn right and walk down the corridor toward the kitchen." He brushed his mouth over the back of her head. "Do not draw any attention to yourself."

Eveline wiped her face, opened the door, and stepped into the hallway with Humphrey's body pressed close to her.

"Miss Braddock!" Miss Sinclair waved and hurried down the corridor toward them.

Tensing, Eveline glanced at Humphrey, silently pleading with him to understand this distraction was outside of her control. Grumbling, he lowered the knife but grabbed Eveline's bicep, his fingers digging into the muscle.

"Convince her to leave," Humphrey said, an unspoken threat hovering on his lips.

"Miss Sinclair," Eveline said, curtsying. "I'm pleased you returned this evening. I was hoping to see you again. Although, after two deaths, you may stop attending functions with me."

"Do you have a moment?" Miss Sinclair asked, her voice cracking. "There's something of grave importance I must discuss with you."

Humphrey's hand tightened, sending a flash of pain through Eveline's body.

"There's a matter I must attend to first," Eveline ground out, panting from the agony Humphrey continued to inflict on her arm. "May we meet later?"

Miss Sinclair's face fell, and she turned away with a nod. "Of course, I didn't intend to interrupt."

"Thank you," came Humphrey's terse reply as he shoved Eveline down the hallway toward the kitchen without waiting for Miss Sinclair to respond.

"Where are we going?" Eveline asked, sucking in a sharp breath when Humphrey poked the tip of the knife into her lower back.

"My lodgings," he said, pushing her forward.

Eveline swallowed. No one would find her again.

"You didn't want to stay with your uncle?" she asked, her eyes sliding to servants dashing through the kitchen.

Would one of them notice her distress?

"Residing here makes what I intend to do to you this evening—and every evening afterward until your death—complicated."

Gasping, she twisted her head around. "Are you going to kill me?"

"No. However, by the time I'm done with your body, you'll wish for death." He pressed himself into her, rubbing his growing erection on her butt. "I'm not a gentle man."

The knife stabbed through her gown, nicking her back.

"Move," he rumbled, seizing her shoulder and shoving her toward the rear of the kitchen.

"I don't understand," she said, her eyes sweeping the section for any utensil she could use as a weapon against Humphrey.

"What don't you understand?" he sneered, shoving her into the door.

She threw her arms up, protecting her face, but the force was so strong that she rebounded into his chest. Reaching around her, his fingers sliding intimately along her waist, he leaned forward and opened the door.

Eveline planted her feet and turned around. "Why me?"

Confusion flickered across his face, and he took a step backward.

"Why do you want to marry me?" she pressed, inching into the space. "There are women with more money, more beauty, more standing. What purpose does this serve?"

"Revenge." He smirked, the darkness returning to his eyes. "My sister lost three fiancés to your family, and you will pay for her suffering with your own."

"Ernest didn't kill your sister," Eveline whimpered as Humphrey shoved her through the doorway.

"Did you?" he growled, slamming the door behind him.

Eveline shook her head. "Miss Webb and her sister were my continual companions this evening."

"Who are they, Eveline?" He tilted his head. "Friends? Ladies who you've convinced to lie for you?"

"Friends," she replied, trudging through the moonlit snowy grounds toward the front of the house.

Her head snapped back, pain radiating through her scalp. Humphrey, his fingers entangled in her hair, clucked his tongue.

"The inn is in the other direction, Eveline, and I wouldn't want you conniving on how to escape me again by alerting some poor gentleman."

She nodded and slogged through the snow toward the garden, the ice crunching beneath her shoes.

"Did you hurt him?" she asked softly, her gaze on the fluffy white ground.

"Who?"

"The Duke of Lennox."

Humphrey stopped and spun her around, his eyes searching hers, and then he snorted. "There was no need. After I explained my position as your true fiancé, he graciously withdrew his claim."

No one was coming to save her.

Planting her left foot, Eveline kicked her right foot forward, striking Humphrey between the legs. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he grabbed his groin, falling to his knees, then collapsed on his side, curse words flowing from his lips.

Before he regained his composure, Eveline raced toward the garden, running beneath a stone archway. Rage exploded across the grounds as Eveline darted down a pathway, seeking a place to hide. She couldn't outrun Humphrey, and once he recovered from her attack, if he discovered her, she'd become the second casualty of the evening.

She glanced behind her to check his location, and a strangled sob escaped from her mouth. Footprints etched in the snow led directly to her location.

How was she going to conceal her location?

She ran in a circle, completing a full loop of the garden, then ducked back under the stone archway, making it appear as though she raced toward the house. Then, she retraced her steps, aligning her shoes with the prints, followed the path to the rear of the garden, and crouched, hiding against the rough stone of a high wall.

"Eveline!" Humphrey's voice echoed as he ran into the garden, scattering snow as he lumbered beneath the archway.

She dug her teeth into her lower lip and held her breath, praying he wouldn't see her.

Pausing in the garden's entrance, Humphrey's gaze sifted through the shadows, and then he lowered his eyes, tracing the path of the footprints in a large circle. Clenching the knife, he swore and spun around. Curses pouring from his mouth, Humphrey limped toward the front of the Venning's house.

When she was certain he wouldn't hear her, Eveline peeked around the stone wall, checking the shadows for any movement. Then she peeled herself off the wall and ran out of the garden, keeping the back of Humphrey in sight as she followed him toward the street.

Instead of entering the house as Humphrey had, Eveline ran down the pavement, bypassing the Duke of Roxburghe's coach in favor of her own feet. Every two seconds, she looked over her shoulder, and with each confirmation that Humphrey hadn't realized her treachery, the vise constricting her chest loosened a millimeter.

She needed ten minutes to grab her trunk—which the fearful part of her had refused to unpack—cart the chest downstairs, and depart Wiltshire. The Duke of Lennox's ring would bear the cost of her escape. However, since he'd retracted his proposal again, leaving her to Humphrey, only a minimal amount of guilt accompanied the decision.

Shivering, she wrapped her arms around her torso and picked up her pace. Snow seeped into her gown, coating her bare shoulders with ice. Possessing no money to hire a hackney and no coat for warmth, she had two choices—return to the ball and Humphrey or clench her jaw, lower her head, and continue slogging through the lightly falling flakes.

She opted for the second.

The scrape of carriage wheels behind her stopped her heart. Without turning, she slipped through the fence opening of an unknown residence and crouched in a snow drift, peering through the iron bars.

A black coach, with two men stationed on the driver's bench, rolled slowly past her hiding place and turned left at the corner. Waiting for a beat, Eveline popped up. However, the noise of the carriage wheels grew louder again, and she dropped down once more as the coach reappeared, heading in the opposite direction at the same snail-like pace.

It must be Humphrey.

If he was searching the streets, he'd figured out that she'd tricked him. However, he'd underestimated her desire to escape him.

Waiting until the noise of crunching snow faded, Eveline peeked her head out, then rose and ran down the lane. She turned right on the next street, slipped, tweaking her ankle, and had to slow her pace. Gasping for breath, she planted her hands on her sides and hobbled, as fast as her body would allow, toward her house.

When she reached the edge of Mrs. Webb's property, a tiny smile broke out on Eveline's face, and she forced herself into a run, hurrying as the fence opening came into view. She grabbed hold of the fence, careening around the corner, rushed up the pathway, and skidded to a halt.

Standing on her doorway, holding a bundle of lavender, waited Humphrey.

"Are you going to invite me in?" he asked, lifting the flowers to his nose and inhaling the sickeningly sweet scent.

Lifting her hands into a defensive position, she slowly backed away from him, watching him warily as one might do when they cornered a wild animal.

"I said,"—Humphrey flung the bundle aside and strode forward—"invite me in."

"No." Eveline shook her head, her shoes scraping on the icy walkway.

Where could she run?

"Ah, ah, ah," Humphrey said, wagging his finger. "You're not going to disappear on me again. If I have to hunt you through these streets, I will capture you and take you back with me. Whether you ride inside the coach or run behind it depends upon your next decision."

One foot half-raised, Eveline paused, staring into his eyes. He'd follow through with his threat. She wouldn't survive the journey tethered to the back of the coach. When exhaustion overtook her, she'd fall, and the carriage would drag her until nothing remained of Eveline Braddock but bones.

Slowly, she set her foot back on the ground.

"Excellent," he said, striding toward her. "I'm pleased you can follow commands. Perhaps this little journey wasn't for naught."

He reached out to cup her face, and she flinched. Darkness clouded his eyes. He raised his arm higher, then swung, smacking her across the cheek. Stars exploded in Eveline's vision, and she crumpled in the snow, her body limp.

Humphrey advanced on her, his hand balling into a fist. Rolling onto her side, Eveline squeezed her eyes shut and cringed, waiting for the pain that would accompany his anger.

His fingers closed around her ankle, and he yanked, pulling her closer. Then he knelt and trapped her body between his legs. Leaning over, he planted his hands on both sides of her face, bringing his nose within a centimeter of hers.

"I was too lenient with you before," he rumbled, his warm breath brushing over her lips. "I see that now."

Before she could react, he grabbed both her arms and pinned her wrists above her head, driving her hands into the snow.

"However, I'm going to rectify that error right now." His free hand caressed her face. "And when I'm finished with you, no man will ever look at you again."