Page 101 of A Devil in Silk
The air in the garden was thick with the scent of summer flowers, yet Clara could scarcely breathe. Moonlight spilled across the wide gravel path where the men stood back to back, pistols raised, boots crunching as they began to pace.
Lord Rothley kept count, his commanding voice carrying in the stillness. “Five … six …” He faltered on seven.
Olivia had swept in through the archway, her pelisse thrown over her nightgown, her red hair tumbling loose about her shoulders.
The sight of her seemed to strip the strength from Lord Rothley’s voice. “Eight …” he managed, coughing once to mask the lapse.
“Stop this!” Clara darted forward as the men turned, planting herself in front of Bentley. His pistol was poised, but with a curse he wrenched it aside, the barrel swinging harmlessly toward the path as his free arm locked around her.
She pressed her head to his chest. His heart hammered so wildly she wanted to weep. Lady Rutland had warned her aboutthe dangers of being reckless. Yet she knew the greater peril lay in letting fear stand in the way of love.
“Step aside, Clara,” Bentley whispered, his lips brushing her hair with heartbreaking tenderness. “It will all be over in a moment.”
She looked up at him, suddenly aware she had forgotten to wear her patch, but again she didn’t care. “This is all my fault.”
“Neither of us is to blame.” He bent his head and kissed her blind eye and scarred brow, so lightly her heart twisted into knots.
Tears gathered behind her eyes. “Did you add kissing scars to your list?”
“It’s an encyclopaedia, not a list,” he said softly. “I would need more than one lifetime to experience the things I long to do with you. But now you must step aside and let your brother fire.”
Fire? Had he lost his wits?
“No. If roles were reversed, what would you do?” She reached up and cupped his cheek, her voice breaking. “You’re the love of my life. I would protect you with my dying breath.”
He inhaled deeply, his eyes brightening. “Say that again.”
“If roles were?—”
“No. The part where you said you love me.”
Her throat tightened, but she had nothing to hide from him. “You’re the love of my life. The dream I wake for, the memory I cling to, the adventure I never want to end. I don’t want to live without you, Bentley.”
The words left her trembling. She had bared herself completely, offered him her heart without shield or mask, and there was no taking it back.
He closed his eyes briefly, as if her words erased all doubt. “I love you. I’m in love with you. It has always been you, Clara. No one but you.”
Bentley held her close, his mouth claiming hers. The kiss was deep, soul-deep, filling every hollow place inside her with the certainty of his love. For a moment there was nothing but him, the taste of him, the strength of his arms, the promise in his touch.
Until the crack of pistol fire shattered the illusion. They both flinched, breaking apart. Daniel stood ten paces away, pistol raised to the sky, smoke curling from the barrel.
“I believe I’ve made my point,” he said, his voice calm but resolute. Striding forward, he clasped Bentley’s shoulder, the decade-long friendship intact. “I’m taking Clara back to London tonight. We leave in fifteen minutes. I’ll call on you tomorrow. We’ll discuss how we proceed in a respectable manner.”
Clara turned to her brother. His dark eyes no longer looked as dangerous as they had a moment ago. “This isn’t a ploy to force me to leave? I have your word you speak in earnest?”
“I’ve never lied to you, Clara.” His expression softened, though his tone allowed no argument. “There’s a murderer at large. I’ll not risk your safety. Not when you have personal ties to this case. Rothley told me what happened at the seminary. That Miss Forbes’ family live in London.”
She didn’t want to think about the snippet of information the matron found in the files. She wanted to argue and beg to stay the night, but knew better than to test her brother’s patience. “Very well. I’ll go with you. But you’ll let me see Bentley tomorrow.”
Bentley’s arm tightened around her as if reluctant to let her leave. “Then I ride behind,” he said firmly, meeting Daniel’s gaze. “I’ll not see her travel unguarded.”
Daniel sighed, the sound of brotherly exasperation. “So be it. We’ll meet in the yard in fifteen minutes.” He strode away, Elsa threading her fingers through his, holding fast as though sharing his burden.
Lord Rothley offered to escort Olivia inside, relieving Bentley of his pistol as he did so. The tension in the air was stretched thin, perilously close to breaking.
“We should go,” Clara said. “I’ll not give Daniel cause to challenge you again. And he’s right. We’re not safe while a killer roams free.”
She made to step back, but Bentley drew her tighter against his chest. “I’m sure your brother can spare us a minute’s grace.”
