She felt Badger take her hand and gently squeeze it.
She felt her heart thud heavily. He’d heard them because she’d clumsily fallen against that table. Well, it was her own fault, no one else’s. Nothing was easy with Marcus. Nothing. Why was he awake? Obviously the laudanum hadn’t been enough.
He was behind them. He was wearing only a dressing gown, his feet bare, his black hair tousled. How, she wondered, her heart thudding even more heavily now, had she noticed all that?
Spears had lighted a branch of candles. He held it high, stepping back as the Duchess and Badger stepped into the small drawing room. He lowered it slowly to a tabletop when Marcus came in.
She turned to face him and saw that he was still pointing the gun toward them. It was an ugly thing with a long barrel, an obscene hole in the end of it.
“Sit down,” he said, waving the gun toward a settee.
They sat, the Duchess between them.
She saw then as he walked toward them that he was in pain and that he wasn’t standing upright. His ribs, she thought. She said aloud, “You should be in bed, Marcus. Surely this isn’t good for your ribs.”
He laughed, then stopped immediately, sucking in his breath at the sharp pain it brought him.
“My mother,” he said. “Is that why you’re here, Duchess? To minister to my wounds? To coo at me?”
She just stared at him, unmoving. “Like Lisette?”
He grinned. “So Spears told you of my ministering angel? Ah, she just removed herself not very long ago, Spears.”
“But I—”
“I know. You doubtless put something in that tea you gave me to drink. But you see, I wasn’t thirsty. What I wanted was Lisette, again.”
“Please, my lord.”
Marcus waved the gun to silence his valet. He stared hard at the Duchess. “No, I can’t imagine you ever cooing, even to your bloody roses. But you felt you had to come in the middle of the night to care for me? You feared I wouldn’t be pleased to see you and thus toss you out if you came in the light of day? You could only come when I was drugged senseless by my utterly loyal valet?”
“I came for another reason, Marcus. I will tell you if only you will sit down before you fall down. Please, Marcus.”
“I don’t want to sit down.”
She rose and walked to him, her eyes on his face, shadowed in the candle light, but she saw the haggard lines, the black eye and swollen jaw. “You’re not well, Marcus.”
He just stood there, watching her walk toward him. “Stop right there, Duchess,” he said pleasantly. He reached out his left hand and gently closed his fingers around her throat. “Tell me, do I inherit your fifty thousand pounds if you stuff it?”
“I believe so, though I don’t think my father even considered that. Perhaps it would go to the Americans, I don’t know. I will write to Mr. Wicks.”
“I could simply strangle you on speculation.”
“I don’t believe that either Spears or Badger would allow you to do it, Marcus.”
“They don’t know you as well as I do. If they did, they would cheer my actions.”
“Actually, you don’t know me at all.”
He shrugged, wincing. Any movement seemed to bring renewed pain to the continuous dull throbbing in his ribs. “Actually, I don’t care. Now, why are the three of you skulking about in my house? The instant has come and I am frankly tired of all this. Tell me now.”
At that moment, there was a gentle knock on the front door, a sly knock, a surreptitious knock. Marcus, surprised and taken off guard, turned toward the sound. Both Spears and Badger were on him in an instant. He struggled, but he was weak and he hurt and the two of them bore him to the carpet quickly enough. Spears very gently removed the gun from his right hand.
“My lord,” he said gently. “I fear you must drink a bit of tea now. All right?”
“You’re fired, Spears.”
Badger said quietly, “Duchess, it is Monsieur Junot. Let him in.”