Free Sacrifice (Fashionably Impure Book 3) by Natasha Blackthorne Page B

Miranda’s feet. “No, no, no… it can’t be!”
    “Please,
my lady, have a seat. Rest yourself a moment.”
    “I can’t
possibly rest.”
    “My
lady.” His voice became softer. A steely, deadly kind of softness. “You must
brace yourself for there is more.”
    “More?”
    No, not
more. She couldn’t possibly bear more.
    He
motioned to the nearest chair. “Please, sit.”
    Miranda
all but collapsed into the chair. She looked up at Drake.
    His eyes
were colder now, his expression grim.
    “Oh God,
please tell me, is he… is he…”
    “He was
alive last I heard but how he managed to recover, I do not know.”
    “What do
you mean?”
    “A
bullet wound, infected like his—”
    “Bullet
wound!”
    “The
brothel owner was alarmed that Winterton had consumed so much alcohol. And she
had sent his valet for a doctor. They had just come to assist the duke moments
after the fatal shot had been served. Winterton’s servant shot Danvers as he
fled the brothel.” Drake paused and compressed his lips.
    Miranda
could only gape at him, horror filling her soul.
      “Only one in a thousand would be likely to
survive a wound like that.”
    “Oh my
God, oh my God…” She put her hands over her face, unable to stop repeating the
phrase.
    If
Adrian were dead, she would have nothing to live for. She couldn’t go on.
    She
couldn’t.
    “You
must brace yourself for the storm to come. The news flies with tide and soon
all of Winterton’s powerful friends and political allies will hear of this.”
    “But
Adrian is… I mean I just received the letter. He is coming—”
    “Hush
yourself, my lady. You know nothing.” His cold, intelligent eyes bore into
hers. “Nothing.”
    “What
are you saying?”
    “Listen
to me and if you value your lord’s life, obey me. Go and pack three trunks.
Include all the absolute necessities that you and Danvers’ young son will
need.”
    “Why?”
she asked, dread crawling through her stomach.
    “Because
you must run and disappear for now.”
    She
gaped at him. “Run?”
    “I will
handle everything.”
    “I
barely know you.”
    “Danvers
asked me to watch over you. He trusts me.”
    Stephen
Drake’s voice rang with complete confidence. He inspired confidence.
    She did
not know this man.
    She had
felt afraid the first time she had looked into his cold, calculating eyes. “I
can go and stay with my mother in Sussex.”
    “My
lady, you are more intelligent than that. That would be the first place anyone
would look.”
    “I’ll
think of something.”
    “You
don’t trust me.”
    “I do
not know you.”
    “Your
husband trusts me. He made me vow to protect you.”
    She
remembered her wedding day. When this man had come to her house and tried so
hard to make sure that her husband knew the sacrifices he would make in
marrying her.
    She had
thought them such good, close friends.
    Now icy
tentacles wound through her innards.
    Sacrifice.
    Her
heart started pounding hard as the realization swept over her. Drake hadn’t
been speaking of their wedding at all.
    He’d
meant this sacrifice, the killing of her father.
    Yes, her
father was a heartless, cold man. But what had driven Adrian to this extreme
action?
    “You.”
She leapt from her chair and charged towards Drake. “You instigated this.”
    Anger
flared through her blood like wildfire now.
    Drake
remained calm. “No my lady, he came to me, over a year ago and asked what could
be done to bring Winterton to his knees. When I investigated your father, I
found him to be an exceptionally evil individual. I decided then and there to
help Danvers with the final solution to his problem. Though I could clearly see
that he was not at that time ready for the truth.”
    “The
truth?”
    “Yes,
the truth that nothing but death can stop a mighty, well- positioned duke.”
Then he frowned. “You’ve received correspondence from Danvers? Recently?”
    The
sudden change in subject jarred her. But not as much as that grim expression
which