Page 78 of A Virgin for the Beastly Duke

“AndCarlton. Your father never owed Carlton any money. I had hoped you would die in the duel. When you did not, I saw it as an opportunity to see you suffer first.”

Harry believed he knew the reason for Gerard’s vengeance but he still asked, “Is this because of Norman?”

Gerard laughed. “You killed him. You cowardly threw him in front of the enemy to be slain in your stead!” Gerard’s eyes were no longer recognizable, and every word he said dripped with poison. “Killing her now will be your hell. You will rot there for eternity knowing you could not protect her, wishing you died in Norman’s place. You will feel the grief I have carried for years.”

Bridget made a sound and he turned the pistol back at her. Harry noticed that the hammer had not been pulled, thus, he quickly stepped in front of her. It would take but a moment to pull it and fire but at least he would take the bullet instead.

Gerard did not fire. “I do not intend to kill you, Harry.” He pulled out another pistol. “And I can still get to her before you can do anything.” He looked past Harry’s shoulder then and cursed. He must have seen Magnus escape, and Harry used the distraction to reach for the pistol.

Before he could retrieve it, however, a shot fired. His heart stopped for the second time that evening, and his head turned sharply to see Bridget.

She was unharmed, but the relief he thought would come did not come. The tears in her eyes clenched his chest until he could not breathe.

“That was a warning,” Gerard said. “Now, you will do exactly as I say.” Harry was forced to turn to him. “Step away from her. Stand by that wall,” he pointed at the wall on Harry’s left with his empty pistol, “and witness her execution.”

Harry was not going to step aside and watch Bridget die. He would fight Gerard with everything he had. Footsteps shuffled behind him just before someone stormed into the office, distracting Gerard.

Harry rushed forward and grasped his armed hand. Gerard’s fist made contact with his jaw, the pain sudden and disorienting, but Harry did not release his hand. A shot came from behind him which he knew was aimed at Gerard. It missed.

Then another came from the gun he was trying to wrest out of Gerard’s hand.

“Bridget!”

Harry barely registered his cry as he turned to her. She whimpered and shook her head, telling him that she was unharmed. He shielded her with his body as Drew came in with two other men, their pistols aimed at Gerard, forcing him to lay down his weapon.

“Bridget,” he gasped, checking her body for wounds, “are you well?” She nodded, and he quickly began to untie her. Behind him, Gerard was being apprehended. Harry’s main concern was getting his wife to safety, and once the knots had been undone, he removed her gag and carried her in his arms, making for the door.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Magnus clutching his arm, and had to turn to take a proper look. He was wounded, and he was the one who had distracted Gerard and fired that shot that missed him.

“I am not an accomplice,” he insisted on his innocence.

Harry could only nod before he carried Bridget out. She shuddered in his arms as she clutched his shoulders.

“I have you,” he said shakily. “You are safe now.”

He moved as quickly as he could out of the brewery, seated her on his horse, then mounted behind her and rode to Grayfield, Cato chasing behind them.

When they arrived, he carried her into the drawing room, abstractedly registering Belinda and Sarah’s relieved cries. The instant he lowered her onto the sofa, his emotions shattered.

“I love you,” was all he could utter as he covered her face with kisses, his tears blinding him.

Epilogue

Harry’s greatest concern had been to get Bridget to safety, and now that he was assured of that, he returned to the brewery where Gerard was being detained.

“We are waiting for the constable to arrive,” Drew said when Harry entered his office.

Harry nodded. “May I have a word with him alone?” There was a question he needed to have answered.

“Of course.” Drew excused them.

Gerard was in a chair on one side of the room, his wrists and ankles in iron shackles instead of being bound with a rope. He looked up at Harry, his eyes remorseless and cold. It was very difficult to believe that this was the same man who had stood by him throughout the years.

That was what made the betrayal more painful. He had trusted Gerard, sought his advice, involved him in all his businesses. In doing all of that, he had exposed all of his weaknesses, and Gerard had almost succeeded in destroying him.

“Came to laugh at me?” Gerard grumbled. Even his voice was unrecognizable.

“No,” Harry replied. “I came to ask you a question. Answer me honestly.”

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