Outside, snow had begun to fall again—fat, heavy flakes that danced past the windows like ghostly witnesses to her shame. The storm that had first brought her to Nicholas at Quamby House was returning, as if nature itself was mocking her with cruel symmetry.
“The documents are prepared,” Algernon said, gesturing toward the mahogany desk where papers lay spread like instruments of torture. “All that remains is your signature, and this unpleasant business will be concluded.”
“And if I refuse?” she whispered, though she already knew the answer.
“Then your brother hangs, and you hang beside him.” Algernon’s voice was matter-of-fact, as if he were discussing the weather. “The choice, as always, is yours.”
Nicholas leaned forward slightly, his gaze never leaving her face. “I confess myself curious to see which path you’ll choose, Lady Lushington. Will you sacrifice yourself for your brother’s sake? Or will you again put your own interests first, as you did five years ago?”
The cruelty in his tone made her flinch. How could he speak to her thus? How could the man who had whispered words of love against her skin now take such obvious pleasure in her torment?
“Tell her what you really feel, Morley,” Algernon encouraged with obvious delight. “Don’t spare her feelings now.”
Nicholas rose from his chair and moved closer, his tall frame looming over her. “What I feel?” He looked down at her withsomething that might have been contempt. “I feel... vindicated. For five years I’ve wondered what sort of woman could smile in a man’s face while planning to betray him. Now I know. The sort who would sell her own soul if the price were high enough.”
Arabella bit her lip to keep from crying out. Each word was like a dagger to her heart, made worse by the kernel of truth within them. She had betrayed him, hadn’t she? Not from greed, but the result was the same. She had destroyed the man she loved to save the brother she adored.
“Look at you,” Nicholas continued, his voice dropping to a whisper that somehow cut deeper than shouting. “Reduced to this. All your calculations, all your careful planning, and this is where it’s brought you. Was it worth it, Arabella? Was Lord Lushington’s fortune worth what you threw away?”
“Please,” she whispered, the word torn from her throat. “Please don’t?—”
“Don’t what? Tell you the truth? Face you with the consequences of your actions?” He moved even closer, close enough that she could smell his familiar scent of sandalwood and something uniquely him. The proximity was torture—so near to everything she had lost, everything she could never reclaim.
“Sign the papers,” Algernon commanded, his patience clearly wearing thin. “End this charade.”
With trembling legs, Arabella moved toward the desk. The documents swam before her eyes, the legal language blurring together into meaningless shapes. All she could think of was Nicholas standing behind her, watching her sign away what little independence she had left.
“The pen,” Algernon said, holding out the instrument like an executioner offering a blade.
Her hand shook so violently she could barely grasp it. This was the end, then. The final act in the tragedy that had begunfive years ago with her desperate attempt to save James. She had traded her happiness for her brother’s life, and now she was trading her freedom for his safety. Perhaps this was her destiny—to sacrifice herself piece by piece until nothing remained.
“Sign them!” Nicholas’s voice was sharp with what sounded like impatience, and the command hit her like a whip.
She pressed the pen to the paper, her vision blurred with unshed tears. James would be safe. That had to be enough. It had to be?—
The pen moved across the page, forming her name in shaking letters. Arabella Elizabeth… Lushington. There—it was done. She had signed away her independence, her future. She was now entirely at Algernon’s mercy, dependent on his charity for the rest of her life.
The pen dropped from her fingers, clattering onto the desk like a death knell.
“Excellent,” Algernon purred, reaching for the documents. “Most satisfactory indeed. You see, Morley? I told you she would?—”
But Nicholas moved with lightning speed, snatching the papers from Algernon’s hands before striding towards the fireplace.
“What are you—” Algernon began, but his words were cut off as Nicholas thrust the documents into the flames, his eyes seeking whatever other evidence he could find to join them.
“No!” Algernon lunged forward, but it was too late. The papers caught immediately, curling and blackening as they burned.
Arabella stared in shock as understanding crashed over her. Nicholas—Nicholas had burned the documents. He had destroyed the very papers he had claimed to want to see her sign.
“You lying bastard!” Algernon snarled, throwing himself at Nicholas with the fury of a man who had seen victory snatched from his grasp.
They crashed to the floor in a tangle of limbs, rolling perilously close to the fireplace as they fought. Algernon was smaller but desperate, fighting like a cornered animal, while Nicholas had youth and strength on his side.
“Arabella!” Nicholas called out between blows. “The door—run!”
But she couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. Nicholas had come to save her. All those cruel words, all that apparent vindictiveness… All had been just an act. He had let her believe the worst of him, had let her heart break all over again, to maintain his deception long enough to destroy Algernon’s hold over her.
A crash of breaking glass from somewhere nearby suggested that others had arrived.