Page 123 of The Wolf Duke's Wife
“Hardly. I’ve merely collected what’s mine.”
She nodded to Charles. “That man seduced me, promised marriage, and stole from me. He fled with my mother’s jewels and half my reputation. I mean to see him answer for it.”
Christine gasped. “Charles?”
Her brother’s face twisted. “It’s true,” he said hoarsely, “at least the part she told. I was a fool, Christine. But she means to see me hang for it.”
Tristan’s eyes never left the thug. “Release him,” he said.
The man only grinned, pressing a knife against Charles’ throat.
“She pays better than you.”
“Not anymore,” Tristan said, cocking the pistol, “last chance.”
Lord Bingley, standing behind Lady Martha, shifted uneasily.
“I wanted no part of this,” he muttered. “You said it would be simple.”
Lady Martha’s lips thinned. “Coward.”
Tristan’s voice cut through them all. “Charles, when I fire, run.”
“Tristan, don’t!” Christine cried.
He ignored her. “Run.”
The pistol roared, the flash searing the dark. The thug cried out and dropped his blade, clutching a wounded arm. Charles tore free, stumbling toward his horse. Tristan reloaded with quick, practiced motions.
“Mount!” he barked.
Charles hesitated, wild-eyed.
“Why, after all this, why help me?”
“Because she loves you,” Tristan said, “and I love her. That’s reason enough.”
Charles swallowed, nodded once, and swung into the saddle. “I’ll go. You’ll never see me again.”
“See that I do not.”
And then he was gone, swallowed by the trees and the road to freedom. The clearing fell silent but for the groaning thug and Lady Martha’s ragged breathing. Her mask of elegance cracked, fury twisting her features.
“You’ve ruined everything,” she spat, “he was mine to punish!”
“Then punish yourself,” Tristan said coldly, “you paid men to hurt a woman in order to lure a thief. You paid men to assault a peer of the realm to delay me from finding Charles myself. You’ll answer for it before a magistrate, if there is a particle of wisdom within you. Otherwise, you may continue to resist me, and I will decide what justice looks like.”
Her hired brute had already vanished into the woods. Lord Bingley turned on his heel.
“I’ve had enough skullduggery for one lifetime,” he said, and strode off into the night without a backward glance.
That left Lady Martha shaking, humiliated. “You think this makes you noble?” she hissed, “you’ve saved a scoundrel. You’ve condemned yourselves.”
Tristan turned to Christine. “Do you wish to condemn me?”
She met his gaze, tears trembling but unshed. “No,” she whispered. “You’ve already saved what I thought was lost.”
He holstered the pistol and reached for her hand. “Then we’re finished here.”
