Page 97 of My Hellion, My Heart
Beneath her gentle fingertips, Henry’s body trembled with barely leashed fury. He wanted to eviscerate this piece of filth who’d presumed he could put his foul, grasping hands on her. He wanted this man to suffer, and the darkness in him itched to employ every vile skill he’d acquired in service to the Crown to that end. Irina’s belief in him, however, made him pause. She’d always seen the best of him. For her sake, he would do as she wished. He lowered his fist. “I suppose I could hand him over to Bow Street.”
Remisov whimpered, his bloodshot gaze turning toward Irina. His hand lifted slightly toward her, and Henry shifted protectively. “I would never have hurt you, Irina.”
“You abducted me.” Her voice shook with rage as she faced the man who had been her friend. “And threatened me. Itrustedyou, and you broke that trust. Twice!”
“You gave me your promise.”
“A woman has the right to change her mind, and that doesn’t give you any right to do what you did. You tried to kill a peer of the realm. You intended to force me…force me to your bed…” She broke off, a cry catching in her throat.
Henry stroked her arm, drawing her closer to his side. Max had betrayed her in ways that could never be forgiven, and Irina had no doubt arrived at that same conclusion.
“You’re despicable,” she whispered.
“I’m all talk, you know that, Irina,” Max said, trying to crawl to his knees from where he’d been sprawled on the floor. Henry moved toward him, and Max threw his hands up in surrender. He stayed crouched where he was.
“I don’t,” she said softly, biting off her sob and straightening her shoulders. “I don’t know that. I don’t even know who you are. I doubt I ever knew the real you, Max, nor do I ever want to see you again.”
Her voice was an arctic blast, her words a regal declaration. She glanced up at Henry. “What will Bow Street do to him?”
Henry sighed. She had so much compassion inside of her…even for a louse of a man who had betrayed her and planned to use her, without a qualm, for his own ends.
“His crimes will either earn him a long sentence or a short rope,” he answered, and seeing the flicker of despair in her eyes, continued, “However, I can perhaps see to eliminating the possibility of the latter punishment.”
If it would put Irina at ease, he would do anything within his power to make it so.
“Irina—” Max started again, panic sharpening his tone. “You can’t let him do this to me. I’m your cousin. We’refamily.”
“I don’t think you know what that word means.”
His tears came hard and fast. “Please, I’m begging you, I won’t survive prison.”
“Stop,” she said, closing her eyes as if to ward off the sight of him. “You should have thought of that when you paid a highwayman to abduct an innocent man. At least you’ll have your life.” A single tear leaked from the corner of her eye. “I wish you had trusted me. I wish you had told me the truth from the start. I wish…I suppose it doesn’t matter what I wish, not anymore. Not after what you’ve done. Good-bye, Max.”
Sighing, Henry rocked back to his haunches and took a deep breath. He nodded to Billings. “Get him up and into the carriage. Inspector Thomson will be here soon, Remisov, and you’ll answer to him.”
Billings held a pistol on Max as he dragged him weeping from the room. Irina tucked herself against Henry’s side, and he wrapped her trembling form in his arms. His shoulder ached from the bullet wound, but he refused to release her.
“You’ll make sure they don’t…hang him?” she whispered into his chest.
“If that is what you wish, I’ll make sure of it,” he answered and kissed her forehead.
Henry happened to believe in redemption, and that all men were deserving of a second chance. Or third chances, in some cases. Remisov deserved to pay for his crimes, but no, Henry also did not want to see the pathetic soul executed. Mostly for Irina’s sake. It would hang over her forever.
“I should join Billings. I don’t trust Remisov not to attempt an escape.” Henry peered down at her. “Come. Let me take you to the kitchen. That young servant girl is about still, I’m sure, and she can get you something to drink or eat.”
She quickly shook her head, clinging to him tighter. “I want to be wherever you are.”
“I would not be very far.” Having nearly lost her twice now, he understood her desire to stay close.
Irina only gripped him more fiercely. “Give up, my lord, I am coming with you.”
He chuckled. “You should know by now that I do not give up easily.”
The first glimmer of a smile on her lips faded quickly, and Irina’s gaze slid from his to Crow’s motionless body at the far side of the hall. “Neither did Max,” she said, the grief-stricken expression she’d worn earlier returning. “I feel so duped,” she confessed. “I should have seen it. I should have seen what he wanted all along, and that I was nothing but a pawn in a sick game to regain his father’s goodwill. He accused all those men of being fortune hunters when he was the worst of the lot.” Her voice broke on a strangled sob. “I should want him to pay for what he’s done, should be happy he’ll be punished, but God, I just feel so sorry for him…so sorry for what he’s become.”
“My sweet love,” Henry said, pulling her gently from the room where Crow lay and where Remisov had nearly forced her into marriage, and ushered her toward the front door. He only wanted to soothe her sadness away, make her happy again. “I will make no excuses for him, but it’s clear he is desperate. And desperation can turn a man into a shadow of what he truly is.”
Perhaps Remisov had once truly cared for Irina. He curled a few strands of the hair framing her face around his finger. “I am sure his friendship was not always a lie,” Henry said. “His past simply warped him into something unrecognizable.”
