Page 117 of The Duke's Mysterious Lover
“Blackrose,” Thorne began, but Father dug the gun into her skin, and Kit couldn’t help the slight whimper, which apparently shut Thorne up as well.
To hell with this.
If Kit was going to die, she was going to do it with her eyes open, looking at the man she loved.
And sure enough, Thorne was staring at her, anguish and uncertainty in his gaze. He slowly moved to put himself between Father and the Princess, and Kit would have smiled at that had the situation not be so desperate.
The fool likely wasn’t even aware of how blasted noble he was being, was he?
No, his worried gaze was on her, and only her.
And in that moment, Kitknew.
Sheknew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Thorne loved her.
Thorne loved her and she loved him, and she wanted to be with him.
Yes, she’d always thought that meant an affair, but if he wanted marriage, then she would be honored to join him.
And yes, he was sure to fook up again in the future, just as she was certain to make mistakes. Her pride alone would get her into stupid situations like this one.
But if he could forgive her, then she could forgive him for keeping a secret he’d thought in her best interest.
Please God, give me the chance to tell him that. Give me the chance to tell him I love him and know he understands.
Swallowing, Kit gently tipped her chin upward, trying to give herself the best chance of surviving her father’s rage.
“Here’s what will happen,” Father said, his voice surprisingly flat. “I amleaving. It is clear now my return to Society was premature, and I’m lucky to have resources put aside. Your Highness, I regret you needed to be witness to this ugliness, but I need you to turn over that folio to me.”
Princess Louise was a brilliant actress. She blinked at the papers in her hand. “But this is merely some information Stroken wanted me to pass on to—”
“I know what it is,” Father snarled. “You will pass it to me.”
Thorne, however, spread his arms to keep the Princess behind him. “Dinnae get near him,” he cautioned.
Father dug the gun barrel against her sensitive skin, but Kit refused to react. No, her attention was on Thorne, begging him not to do anything stupid.Stupider.
“Give me the evidence, Stroken,” he growled. “Now.”
Still pretending confusion, the princess spoke up. “Bonkinbone, really, your own daughter! I’ll gladly pass over these silly papers to save such talent!”
“Aye,” Thorne rasped. “Aye, of course. Ye can have the folio.”
Yet he hedged to the side, as if trying to sneak closer.
And in that moment her Father wrenched the gun away from Kit and pointed it directly at Her Royal Highness, the Princess Louise, Marchioness of Lorne—daughter of the Queen of the United Kingdom and Empress of India.
There was a harsh inhalation, as if every man watching gasped.
“Now, Stroken,” Father barked.
And Thorne said, “Dinnae do anything stupid.”
But Kit had the sense he wasn’t speaking to her father. She began to turn, but his hold tightened on her, and she gasped. From this angle, she couldseehis finger shifting across the trigger.
Princess Louise, in the crosshairs, was doing an admirable job of staying calm and merelyinterested, instead ofterrified.
“Father!” Kit choked, desperate to distract him. “Don’t—I’mthe one who foiled your plans! I’m the one you’re angry with!”
