Chapter 28

T hey ran hell-for-leather across the gardens to the entrance of the maze.

Rupert was struggling to formulate a plan—a tricky proposition for him during the best of times, and this was decidedly not the best of times, when the woman he loved was about to run headlong into a hedge maze so she could confront a crazed spinster with a gun.

At the entrance to the maze, he grabbed Claire’s arm. “Did you bring your pistol?”

Her face paled. “I forgot it. I was so flustered this morning, and—”

He withdrew his own gun from the waistband of his trousers. “Take mine,” he said, pressing it into her hands.

She pulled her hands back. “I couldn’t possibly—”

“I insist,” Rupert said, and something about his expression must’ve given her to know that he wouldn’t be gainsaid in this, because for once in her life, Clarissa Weatherby didn’t argue.

“All right,” she said, her voice clipped with nerves. “Thank you.”

He studied her. Her eyes had a flighty quality about them. He knew she was as scared as he was. “Are you sure you want to do this, Claire?” he asked softly.

She nodded jerkily. “I do. It’s my job, and I won’t have anyone saying I quit as soon as the going got tough.”

Rupert sighed. “I was afraid you would say that.” He cleared his throat. “Well, then. You go right, I go left?”

She nodded again. He was just about to head in when she added, “And Rupert?”

He turned, and she grabbed him by the cravat with her free hand, hauling him in. She kissed him the way Andromache must’ve kissed Hector before he headed off to face Achilles in single combat, the way Juliet kissed Romeo before she plunged that dagger into her heart. She kissed him like it was the most important thing she would ever do. It was a kiss that made him feel precious, made him feel like he was good enough, made him feel like maybe, just maybe, she cared about him, too.

They were both breathing hard by the time they broke apart. “Be careful!” Clarissa said fiercely.

Rupert touched her cheek, hoping his eyes would tell her everything he had in his heart. “You too, Claire.”

Then they turned and ran in opposite directions into the maze.

Rupert had been inside the hedge maze at Castle Helmsley before, but not so often that he knew where he was going. He immediately got turned around and hopelessly discombobulated, but he figured that was to be expected, and the thing was to keep going.

He tried to creep silently along and not give away his approach. But time was of the essence, so he was attempting to do this at a run, and he knew he had to look a right idiot doing a ridiculous sprinting tiptoe with his arms flapping around for balance.

An opening appeared in the wall of hedges to his left, leading him deeper into the maze. He paused to peer around the corner. He didn’t see anyone and couldn’t hear anything but the hiss of the wind.

He guessed left but quickly ran into a solid wall of greenery. Turning around, he started back the way he’d come, and that was when he heard Rosalind’s voice from a few rows over.

“Oh, my—Phyllis!” Nervous laughter floated over the top of the hedge. “You startled me.”

“On edge, cousin?” Phyllis’s voice held a note of poison.

There was a pregnant pause before Rosalind said, “You know I’ve been anxious ever since these attempts on Oliver’s life began.” Rupert could hear the hesitation in her voice, could sense her wondering if she could trust her own cousin.

Phyllis laughed, a bitter, ugly sound. “You expect me to believe that you care what happens to Oliver?”

“Of course I do. He is my husband, and—” Rosalind suddenly shrieked. “Phyllis! Is that a gun ?”

Shit shit shit . Rupert started moving his feet again, because a great lot of good he was doing standing here listening to Rosalind get shot.

The two women were worked up sufficiently that Rupert could still hear them even when he wasn’t standing still, straining his ears.

“You stole him!” Phyllis shouted. “Oliver and I had an understanding. He was supposed to marry me !”

“You know I didn’t want to marry him!” Rosalind cried. “You know my father forced me to agree to the match!”

“You should have refused,” Phyllis spat.

Rupert came to an opening in the hedge that took him toward the voices. He ran through, but it led nowhere, so he went right back out again.

Rosalind’s voice was tremulous with feeling. “As far as I am concerned, you may have him. He can sue me for divorce. I won’t contest it. Then we can see how well you like being married to a man who belittles you at every turn!”

“How dare you speak of him that way! You’ve never been worthy of him, never had a thought for his well-being. If you did, you wouldn’t dare suggest something as ridiculous as divorce . The scandal would be the ruination of his political career!”

Rosalind laughed, disbelieving. “You think there won’t be a scandal if his wife is found dead in a hedge maze with a bullet through her heart?”

Rupert came to a dead end and turned. The only place to go was an opening that would push him out even farther from the center of the maze. It didn’t seem that he had any choice, though, so he took it, running as hard as he could.

“He will be seen as a tragic figure,” Phyllis said with absolute confidence. “Freed at last from the shackles of the mad wife who took her own life.”

Now Rosalind sounded angry. “What nonsense! I won’t do any such thing.”

Phyllis laughed. “Oh, but everyone will think you did. I’ll make sure of it!”

“I offered you a place in my home after your brother was forced to sell your house!” Rosalind snapped. “And this is the thanks you show me? You will burn in hell for this!”

Phyllis’s voice contained nothing but indifference. “I am merely correcting a wrong, undoing an unholy union that never should have happened. Besides, the greater sin would be to let Oliver’s child be born a bastard.”

“You… you…” Rosalind sputtered as Rupert sprinted around the back side of the maze. “You’ve been carrying on with my husband? Under my own roof?”

“He never wanted you,” Phyllis said, voice shaking. “He always wanted me, and that never changed!”

It sounded like Rosalind was crying. “I know Oliver doesn’t love me. That he never has. But he wouldn’t want me to die !”

Phyllis’s voice was full of satisfaction. “Who do you think told me you were here in the maze? Who do you think sent me out to finish the deed? You’ve been in our way for far too long. But that ends today!”

Rupert heard the metallic click of a firearm being cocked. Rosalind gave a piteous cry.

But then, there was another voice.

“Don’t even think about it, Phyllis!” It was Claire’s voice, of course. She sounded confident. Fierce.

Unlike Rupert, who felt sick with terror.

“Pull that trigger,” Claire continued, “and you will be the next to die.”

Rupert came to a gap in the hedge. It led to a dead end, but when he turned the other way, he found another opening that led deeper into the maze. The voices were just a row or two over. He was getting close. He knew he was.

“How dare you!” Phyllis shrieked. “You, the most scorned woman in all of England. You were supposed to be on my side. You were supposed to understand !”

Another gap opened just ahead. As he sprinted through it, Phyllis came into view. He could see the deranged anger on her face as she looked over her shoulder at someone behind her. The gun was pointed the opposite direction, at someone deeper in the maze.

But not for long. Rupert watched in horror as Phyllis wheeled around, turning the gun on Claire.

He saw the terror in Claire’s eyes, watched as she fumbled to cock her own weapon.

Phyllis narrowed her eyes and pulled the trigger.

Screaming her name, Rupert leaped. Hurling his body in front of Claire, he felt the air go out of him as the bullet slammed into his chest.