Page 69 of A Night of Passion with the Duke

“I will never regret getting rid of her.”

Joana’s hatred was so palpable that it sent a shiver down Arabella’s spine. She wondered how the woman was able to pretend to like her all this time.

“And if His Grace found out you had a hand in his wife’s disappearance?”

“He’d never know I had a hand in it, and even if anyone told him, he would never believe it.” Joana sounded so sure, but Arabella knew she wasn’t wrong. Evenshestill found it hard to believe it was Joana speaking. “Who would believe that the proper Lady Joana was capable of such despicable behavior?”

“Joana.”

“Enough, Peter,” Joana snapped.

“I cannot stand with you.”

“Then you leave me no choice,” she warned. “I owe you one last bit of mercy because you were useful for a time. Be gone by the time I arrive, or you will meet the same end I have planned for her.”

The sound of the door slamming shut alerted Arabella that Joana had probably stepped out of the room. If she wanted to escape, Peter was her best choice. So she struggled against her restraints, trying to move. If he heard the noise, then he would know she was awake and would try to free her. She heard his footsteps coming in her direction, and she almost sagged in relief.

“Oh. You’re awake.” He sounded scared, rushing over to her and helping her to sit. “Here, let me help you.”

His hands shook as he tried to remove the gag in her mouth. She noticed the sheen of tears around his eyes and felt sad for him.

“I’m sorry about this, Your Grace. I?—”

“It’s all right, Peter,” she told him once he removed the gag. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“It was,” he answered. “I should have tried…”

“Don’t blame yourself, Peter,” she insisted once her hands were free, placing a hand on his shoulder. “There was no way you could have known.”

He smiled at her as he began to undo the rope around her feet, and she smiled back. She barely looked up when she noticed Joana rush inside and bury the knife she’d been holding in Peter’s back, before pulling it out.

“I told you not to be here!” Joana yelled.

Arabella screamed as he cried out and fell to the floor, clapping her hands over her mouth. “Peter!”

“It wasn’t enough that you stole my Edward, now you’re trying to steal Peter from me, too,” Joana spat out. “You’re a right proper whore, Arabella. Tell me, have you also given yourself over to Peter? Have you?!”

She rushed towards her, knife still in hand and covered with blood.

“N-no, I have not,” Arabella stammered out.

Palpable fear like nothing she’d experienced before filled her. Joana had a crazed look in her eyes, and Arabella knew at this point that the woman wasn’t against killing her if she misbehaved.

“You’re afraid of me now, aren’t you, Arabella?” Joana cackled. “You had better be, because you haven’t seen what I have in store for you. You’ll learn never to steal anything of mine ever again.”

She stood back and called to someone Arabella hadn’t noticed before. Two men in matching dirty, worn-out tunics and breeches stepped into the room.

“This is the lady?” one of them asked with a gruff voice.

“Yes, it’s her,” Joana hissed. “Pick her up and let’s move.”

“Joana, please,” Arabella cried. “Please, don’t do this.”

They ignored her. One of the men picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, as if she weighed nothing. He not only looked dirty but he smelled so foul that her eyes watered. She pounded on his back and swung her legs, but when he swatted her bottom, she stilled.

“Ye better behave, missy,” he growled. “I ain’t against teaching a lady some manners.”

“I’d advise you to remain quiet, Ara mine,” Joana cooed. “I’d hate for these men to kill you here.”

---