Page 45 of Betrayal from Beyond
“Tell me,” he said, taking the glass back.
She hesitated.
“Kara?”
“I don’t want you to think less of me,” she whispered.
“Not in a hundred years,” Niall vowed, kneeling before her. “There is nothing you cannot say to me. I hope you know that, for I have certainly held tight to the belief that I can say anything to you.”
She reached out to clutch his hand. “Of course you can. I trust you. I do. I trustus. It’s just—I’ve seen something that makes me wonder if I can trust myself.”
He nodded, encouraging her to continue.
Haltingly, she began to speak.
He listened carefully as she told him what she had seen, and also about the thoughts and feelings that had been haunting her. She heaved a sigh as she finished, as if relieved, but she still peered anxiously into his face. “What do you think? Have I lost my grip on reality?”
“No,” he said firmly.
“But you don’t think it was her?”
“No,” he repeated, with almost the same force. “We saw her body, Kara. Lying right there on the table in front of us. Petra Scot is dead.” He stood and pulled her to her feet. Dropping into her chair, he tugged her into his lap. “Do I think that your mind created something that wasn’t there? It’s possible. The human brain is an incredible tool—and yours is more powerful than most.”
She snorted. “I’ll assume that is a compliment.”
“It’s meant as such,” he assured her. “But I think it is equally as likely that someone is trying to upset you.”
She looked surprised at the idea. “But…who? And why?”
“Petra had confederates,” he reminded her. “Someone was hiding her away. Plenty of others spent years doing her bidding. Perhaps they are carrying on with her mission. They might not even realize she is dead. There has certainly been no mention of it in the papers. Nor will there be.” Shrugging, he asked, “How clearly did you see the woman?”
“Clearly enough.” She thought back. “I was convinced. I saw the same height and form. Dark hair. It was the sameattitude, Niall. The direct stare, challenging me. The posture—all so antagonistic. If it was staged, it was done exactly like when she’s attempted to stare me down in the past.”
“Probably done purposely,” he mused. “The same way she taunted you a few nights ago. We know she is a master of misdirection. She might have put this doppelgänger in play before she left London. Perhaps to make us believe she was still here.”
He felt a great deal of the tension melt out of her frame. “I never thought of that. Thank you, Niall.” She nestled in against him.
He gripped her tightly. They sat that way for a while. She felt so warm and soft against him, so small in his lap, yet her heartstretched so large and giving and generous. He knew he was the luckiest man in the empire.
Burying his face in her hair, he inhaled her scent—womanly florals cut with just a hint of metal filings and clock oil. So uniquely Kara. As always, it sent desire rolling hard through him.
“My arm could use a rest.” It came out nearly a growl. “Why don’t we go upstairs, and you can rub it for me?”
She grinned up at him. “Your Grace! Is that an indecent proposal?”
He gave her a look of affront. “I am a duke,” he said loftily. “All of my proposals are decent.”
“Well, in that case, I accept.”
“I am a bit sweaty,” he warned.
“Just the way I like you,” she murmured, waggling her brows.
He laughed at the echo of the comment she’d made before and let her climb out of his embrace. Taking his hand, she kept a hold of it as they walked leisurely through the grounds to the main house. Niall struggled to maintain a casual mien, but the servants they encountered all noted their clasped hands and turned away, smiling.
“Odin’s arse, forget decorum,” he said as they started up the stairs. “They all suspect what we are up to, in any case.” He bent down and swept her into his arms, taking the stairs two at a time and entering her room, because it was closest.
She was laughing and trying to muffle it in his chest. He kicked the door closed behind him—and then stopped cold.
