Leonard pushed her further back.
“He knows where it is!”
Cooper had had enough and he attempted to fire into the air but nothing happened although if it was done intentionally or merely to scare the group, Leonard could not be certain. Everyone choked back screams as they ducked and cowered on the ground, fearing that they might be Cooper’s next target.
“The next one is for Miss Elizabeth.”
Leonard jumped forward, intending to wrest the gun from Cooper’s hands but Cooper anticipated the motion and moved the pistol toward the Duke. In the final seconds, Leonard jousted out of the way, barreling the man down with his muscular frame and they ended on the ground, fighting for the pistol which had yet to be fired.
“Leo, no!” Catherine and Elizabeth screamed as the gun finally fired. The ladies watched in horror as the men fell apart.
“LEO!” Both women ran toward him but Leonard was on his feet, his hand on the pistol aiming it at Cooper.
“Catherine, run for the guards!” he huffed. “Herbert, find me more bullets. You, Cooper, you stay where you are.”
Cooper lay where he was but when he turned his head to the side, Leonard’s heart stopped in its chest. Percival had been shot in the struggle, blood pouring endlessly from his chest.
“Father!” Elizabeth sobbed. “Father!”
Percival stared up at her with glazed eyes, the light fading from his irises.
“I…did not…know…he would hurt you,” Percival choked. “I…only…wanted the…money…”
With horror, Elizabeth watched the Viscount’s head flop down and he took a last shuddering breath before being claimed by death.
“Elizabeth, you must leave here,” Leonard told her urgently. “Mark is still on the premises.”
“He is,” David agreed, entering the salon, the sack of ransom money in his hands. “But he has been contained. He waits for the guards to put him in the barracks.”
David’s face twisted as his eyes fell upon his father’s lifeless body. His hazel eyes darted toward Elizabeth and the Duke before returning his stare to the Viscount.
“Father?” he choked. “Father?”
“He is gone, David,” Elizabeth whispered, touching his shoulder as David crouched to Percival’s side. “It was an accident.”
Bewildered, David looked up at his sister and nodded slowly, blinking back the mass of tears in his eyes.
“Your Grace!” the guards appeared and reached for Cooper who remained on the ground. “How did these men get in?”
“My word, Llewynn, I was hoping you might tell me, considering it is your job to secure this premises!” Leonard retorted caustically. “Needless to say, there will be a changing of the guards in the coming days.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Sighing deeply, Leonard turned to all else who stood, still consumed with an insurmountable wash of emotions.
“You foolish man!” Elizabeth told him. “You could have been killed!”
She sniffled back the tears in her voice and stared at him imploringly.
“Why did you do such a reckless thing?” she demanded, her voice cracking. His brows knit.
“He was prepared to kill you, Liza. I swore to you that you will forever be protected under my watch and I will do whatever necessary to ensure you are always safe from harm.”
“But—”
“But nothing, darling.” He drew her trembling body into his arms and stroked her hair. “You may cry, sweet Liza. You have much to be sorrowful for.”
“Come along, Herbert,” Catherine murmured. “Frances may have heard the gunfire and been alarmed. We must ensure she is well.”
“I will join you,” David added, tearing his eyes away from his father’s body reluctantly.
“Indeed,” Herbert agreed but he waited to give Leonard one last look of appreciation. “Thank you, Your Grace. You have saved us all.”
“Herbert,” Leonard called toward his retreating back. The barrister stopped and looked at him.
“Your Grace?”
“I daresay that it is high time you started calling me Duke, would you not?”
Pride and embarrassment flooded his face and he nodded, darting his eyes down.
“Yes…Duke,” he murmured before scrambling after Catherine. He held Elizabeth against his chest until the guards cleared Percival’s body. Only then did he set her back to stare into her bloodshot eyes.
“How did it come to this?” she moaned. “One day we were so innocent, we believed our father loved us, and the next—”
“The next you have found yourself in another household with a family who genuinely loves you. You, David, and Frances have a home at Brookside. There is no threat here for you, not any longer.”
Elizabeth visibly swallowed and nodded, her misery clear. Leonard knew it would take time to regain her confidence and happy disposition but he was a patient man. She had endured so much and to learn her father was a man willing to risk her life for greed was a devastation no lady should ever know.
“We will stay a while,” Elizabeth agreed softly, raising her eyes back to stare at him warmly. “Until we have found our bearings.”
“Perhaps your bearings are here,” Leonard told her gently. “And you need not look any further.”
Elizabeth smiled through her tears and nodded.
“I am beginning to believe you are correct in that matter, Leo. You will hear no protest from these lips.”
He returned her beam and leaned forward, tenderly brushing his mouth to hers. Elizabeth’s lips parted slightly, a slow gasp of surprise falling forth to touch him until Leonard sealed her surprise fully. They held their embrace for a long, sweet moment, time falling still between them until Leonard reluctantly pulled apart, their mouths lingering until the last succulent second. His eyes opened to lock on Elizabeth’s face lovingly and she returned his gaze imploringly, the desire to feel him close still showing vividly in her eyes.
“I would much rather a kiss from your lips than a protest.”
Epilogue
Six Months Later
“I have the queerest sense that I have been here before,” Catherine giggled. “Why might that be?”
Elizabeth regarded Catherine through the glass of the vanity, smiling happily.
“If you are suggesting this is akin to how we were first acquainted, I quite take exception to that, Catherine. Moreover, I had rather stricken that memory from my mind.”
“Ah, now that you mention it,” Catherine teased, stroking a strand of Elizabeth’s hair through her fingers. “This is nothing akin. You make a far more beautiful bride than Lady Curry and Pembroke is much more elegant than Fife. There is no comparison.”
Both women giggled girlishly and Catherine took Elizabeth’s gloved hand, helping her to her feet.
“You are a vision in blue,” Catherine gushed but Elizabeth could hear the sincerity oozing from her tone and it filled her with warmth. Over the past months, Catherine, Elizabeth and Frances had become as close as any siblings could hope to be. They rarely went anywhere without the other and spent their evenings reading and regaling one another with silly stories.
Frances was less petulant in the wake of Percival’s death, as though she had inherently understood that something terrible had occurred and it was her place to behave.
Herbert certainly helped with her disposition, Elizabeth thought wryly. If not for him, she might still be the woman-child she has always been.
Perhaps Frances heard her sister’s thoughts for she came running into Elizabeth’s chambers, tripping over her skirts of silk and fur. Thankfully, she caught herself before her attire was damaged.
“Oh, Franny,” Elizabeth gasped. “You look beautiful!”
“As do you, Liza!” Frances chirped. The sisters peered at one another adoringly before Catherine cleared her throat.
“I do loathe to interrupt,” she told them. “But it is time.”
“Indeed,” both sisters agreed. Elizabet
h felt a flush of pleasant excitement build through her body and she took hold of Frances’ arm as Catherine led the way out of her chambers.
In the hallway, David stood, dashing in a black topcoat and blue cravat to match the lady’s dresses.
“You’re unduly handsome, brother,” Elizabeth teased him and he chuckled gently. How mature he appeared, no trace of the boyishness he had brought to Pembroke all those months ago. In its place was the fine, gentlemanly way of a young man who had adapted to his role of Viscount. It pained Elizabeth that he was in Gordon while she and Frances remained at Brookside but Elizabeth had never been prouder of her brother.
No one would guess that he is a young man of less than twenty, she thought admiringly as she slipped her arm into his and Frances followed suit on his other side. Flanking him, they continued across the upper floor and toward the staircase. As they neared, the flickering of a hundred candles guided their path and the chandeliers above their heads cast dancing shadows about them.
“Liza,” Frances whispered, stopping abruptly. “Am I prepared for this?”
David and Elizabeth exchanged a nervous look. It was a grand question, one they had both asked each other dozens of times since the idea had risen.
“Franny, that is for you to decide. What does your heart tell you?”
She stared at Elizabeth with wide, guileless eyes.
“It tells me that I will make a good wife to Herbert,” she whispered. “And that I love him with all of my heart and soul.”
A tingle of warmth seeped through Elizabeth for she understood precisely how Frances felt. She, too, was about to commit her heart to the man who had saved her over and over again. Yet it was impossible not to feel nervous simultaneously.
“Then I daresay you are ready,” David offered gently. “Herbert is a good man, Franny. He loves you very much.”
A happy smile broke over Frances’ face and she nodded.
“Indeed, he does. I am so blessed.”
“We are all blessed,” Elizabeth conceded.
“What are we waiting for?” Frances demanded, tugging her brother’s arm. “Let us be wed.”
They lowered their veils and primped one another quickly before restarting their steps. The siblings reached the landing and stared below at the crowd of guests waiting for their arrival. A slow murmur flowed through the group as they parted to make way for the Folletts. Never before had Elizabeth enjoyed being scrutinized so closely but she knew the present company only had genuine good wishes for the ladies of Gordon. Elizabeth and Frances had come to Pembroke and won them over with their kind hearts and good spirits. Elizabeth was no longer the subject of tawdry gossip and Frances had been accepted as a sweet, kind woman despite her afflictions.
We have come so far in such a short time. Our futures are bright and secure, Elizabeth told herself with confidence.
At the altar stood the bridegrooms, each carrying his unease in a different fashion. Herbert shifted his weight from one foot to another while Leonard flashed a smile to anyone who caught his glimmering emerald eyes. Yet both men relaxed at once when they laid eyes upon their respective brides and Elizabeth could sense Frances, too, was calm.
We all deserve happiness, Elizabeth thought, casting her brother a sidelong look. Last she had heard, he still courted Lady Chamberlain and their affair was public in Gordon. David held no shame in the matter and Elizabeth was forced to concede that her brother’s contentment was far more important than the opinions of other people.
“Who does give these women to their husbands?” the vicar intoned.
“I do,” David replied, stepping forward to present his sisters to their betrothed.
“Let us begin.”
Elizabeth did not hear another word. She was lost in her groom’s eyes and he, in hers. From her peripheral gaze, Elizabeth saw Frances shaking with the anticipation of a newborn puppy and it brought a smile to her face.
“He will take good care of her,” Leonard breathed softly. “You need not worry.”
“I am not concerned,” Elizabeth whispered back.
“I will take care of you, also.”
She smiled.
“You already have, Leo.”
To her surprise, he moved her veil aside. A gasp escaped the crowd but Leonard did not seem bothered in the least.
“I do not wish to be married to your veil,” he said loudly enough so that all might hear. Elizabeth smothered a giggle, knowing the vicar would not approve but she kept her eyes trained on his face.
“Shall I continue, Your Grace?” the clergyman growled.
“I do not wish to wear a veil either!” Frances declared and there was more tittering from the audience.
“Then you shall not wear one,” Herbert confirmed, raising it from Frances’ face.
“Mr. Barlough, may I commence again?” The vicar was clearly losing his patience with the lot.
The men exchanged a small smile and nodded at the vicar.
“Indeed.”
Yet Elizabeth could not wipe the smile from her face.
He does not mind what others say. He is steadfast in his own beliefs and desires. I have already learned so much from Leonard. I cannot wait to see what the years bring between us.
“You make a lovely bride, Elizabeth,” the Duchess told her. “I do wish Aylmer was alive to see our son so blissfully content. Ours was not a union stemmed from love.”
The reception was thinning and the guests beginning to leave but not before stopping to congratulate the brides and grooms, offering their bits of advice in a drunken slur. Mary was no exception.
Elizabeth was surprised to learn that the late duke and duchess were not wed for love. Leonard had told her with many tales of his parents’ union and from all she had heard, she would not have guessed theirs to be arranged.
“Fate works in mysterious ways, my dear,” Mary continued, beaming secretively. “Sometimes, terrible matters must occur before one can see the reality around them. I wonder if Leonard would have ever truly known how much he adored you if you had not been snatched so abruptly away from him.”
Elizabeth frowned at the question. It troubled her to think that perhaps Leonard would not have cared for her if such a dire situation had not arisen.
“Do not misunderstand me, child,” Mary continued quickly, sensing the displeased look in Elizabeth’s eyes. “I have no doubt that Leonard would have pursued you to the end of his days but I do not think he realized the intensity of his love for you until the moment you went missing.”
“I agree, Your Grace. What happened with my father was tragic but it did bring us all much closer together.”
“You are full of wits, Elizabeth. You will make a good duchess. Be certain you use your mind for something other than the tedious galas and dinners that are endlessly expected of you.”
“Indeed, Your Grace. I have several charitable causes in mind.”
Elizabeth had already begun working on raising funds for the people of Wakefield, inspired by the kindly Rachel Cutler.
Mary’s smile grew so wide, Elizabeth feared her mother-in-law’s face would crack.
“You have a good heart. You will make a good mother, also.”
A spark of heat started at Elizabeth’s neck and moved toward her throat.
“In due time,” Elizabeth replied softly.
“When fate speaks,” Mary agreed and Elizabeth was decidedly uncomfortable by the conversation. She knew the dowager was drunk so did not stop her but gratefully, Catherine appeared.
“Mother, are you monopolizing the bride?” Catherine asked, appearing at their side.
“It appears I am,” Mary laughed. “Forgive me, Elizabeth. I must retire for the night. I daresay I have had one cup too many this evening.”
“I am heartened that you celebrated with us, Your Grace.”
“Perhaps you will call me ‘Mother’ one day,” Mary sighed but she did not allow Elizabeth to respond before shuffling away.
“My word!” Cathe
rine breathed. “Mother asked you to call her ‘Mother’! You wait until Leonard hears of this!”
“Hears of what?” the Duke asked.
Elizabeth’s head was beginning to spin from all the commotion and excitement but she was not overwhelmed. If anything, she was at peace. Everyone she loved was in one spot, celebrating with the utmost joy in their hearts. Elizabeth wanted for nothing although the lingering image of her father still lurked in the shadows.
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