Page 83 of How the Earl Entices

“No, I want to be here in case—”

“For God’s sake!” he snapped out furiously. “He doesn’t want you to watch him hang!”

Her body flashed numb, followed by a blinding pain. But her foolish heart kept pounding, each jarring beat like a hammer to her breastbone, not knowing that she was already dead inside.

Hang…No. “He said they would transport him,” she whispered, her stunned lips barely able to form the words.

“He lied.” Christopher’s eyes blazed with fury and anguish. “He’s going to the gallows. The crown will make an example of him, and Wentworth will call in every favor he’s owed to make certain it happens.”

Her eyes burned, blurring his shadowy figure in the darkness. As silence fell between them, broken only by the rumble of the carriage wheels, her shock gave way to the brutal pain of helplessness. That same horrible helplessness that had nearly ended her ten years ago—this time, it was certain to break her. Even now she struggled for each excruciating breath.

“Ross is too proud to let you watch him beg for his life, and he sure as hell doesn’t want you there when they take that life from him. He wants you back in Sea Haven, tucked safely into that cottage of yours with your son.” He flicked the latch on the window and shoved it open, to let in the cold air of the damp night, as if he, too, were suffocating. “And I willnotdeny my brother his final wish.”

“Neither would I.” But he was so very wrong! Ross’s wish wasn’t to send her away. It was to thwart fate and find a way to finally be together. There was nothing under heaven that would keep her from making that wish come true.

Already a desperate plan was forming in her head. “Have you been to the studio?”Had he found the papers?

He shook his head. “As soon as Ellsworth notified me of what happened, I went straight to Newgate.” He didn’t look at her, his attention focused somewhere beyond the carriage in the night. “Ross wanted you freed. So I made it happen.”

Then the papers were most likely still in the studio, still tucked beneath the floorboards where Ross had hidden them. Still waiting for her.

What she was contemplating was dangerous, utterly mad…and quite possibly his only hope. “What will happen tomorrow?”

He stiffened, clearly not wanting to discuss this. Or even look at her. He blamed her for Ross’s capture, and she didn’t fault him. If she hadn’t been with Ross, he could have hidden someplace else where the soldiers would never have found him. He wouldn’t have gone to the studio at all after the masquerade, choosing instead to move and change locations. But he’d returned because of her, and aching guilt sickened her that the night which had been so blissful for her might be his downfall.

“The Lord High Steward will call for the trial to commence,” he answered simply, unwilling to offer up any additional information, “and Ross will be given the chance to plead his innocence.”

But he wouldn’t. That wonderful, honorable man would keep his silence to protect her. Which meant that she had to act now to protect him. “The trial will be closed to the public?”

“Yes. Only peers and solicitors will be allowed inside.” His gaze flicked to her, then back to the passing streets outside. “Which is another reason why you can’t be there.”

Her belly tied into a tight knot at what she was contemplating.“But Wentworth will be?”

“He’ll make certain of it.”

She twisted her fingers into her skirt to fight back her rising anxiousness, hoping that in the darkness he wouldn’t notice her desperation. “Not his assistants?”

“Not inside the chamber, no.” He muttered into the shadows, “But you can damn well bet those vultures will be waiting somewhere nearby.”

So not inside the ambassador’s townhouse.Exactlywhat she needed to know to carry out her plan.

As the carriage traveled out of the City, with Fleet Street giving way to the Strand beneath their wheels, the traffic became heavier, until they were stopped completely near Covent Garden by the snarl of carriage traffic and pedestrians blocking their way. The theatres had let out. Despite the drizzling rain that blackened London, it seemed that the entire city was out for the evening and clogging the fog-filled streets.

Quashing all signs of nervousness, she suggested as casually as possible, “Can we walk a ways? I don’t think I can keep sitting here like this.”Without screaming. “With all these people, we’ll be safe from footpads.”

He considered silently for a moment, then gave a curt nod. Pounding his fist against the roof to signal to the driver that they were getting out, he opened the door and swung to the ground. He reached back to help her down.

“Thank you.” Then she pulled her hand away and stepped back several paces toward the footpath at the edge of the wide road.

When Christopher turned his back to pay the driver, Grace ran.

In a matter of seconds she was lost in the crowd and the dark of foggy night, hurrying as fast as she dared without calling attention to herself. She wove her way through the crush of people meandering along the street, past several carriages, and down a side street. Not daring to look back to see if Christopher was chasing after her, she darted into a dark alley that ran behind the theatre.

Only then, safely covered by shadows and surrounded by the noisy city night, did she stop. She leaned against the stone wall and gasped deeply to fill her lungs. She waited, straining to listen for any sounds that he might be pursuing her. But only the noise of distant carriages and horses reached her, along with stray laughter from one of the open windows in the building across the alley. The midnight bell tolled loudly from a church tower, a woman yelled—but there was no trace of Christopher.

She squeezed her eyes closed, allowing herself only this one moment of pain and fear. This one moment when she would let herself remember the feel of Ross’s fingers caressing her cheek, the sound of his laughter, the exquisite joy of his hard body moving inside hers as he made love to her. There would be time later when she could have the luxury of more than just this quiet moment to reflect and remember.

But now, she had to act.