Annalise was excessively glad to say honestly, “I did not. I thought I was a beloved member of this family, and Moreau forbade my doing so.”
“And you obeyed him?”
“Why should I not?” Annalise questioned. “It was only after his return that both you and he turned against me.”
“Then Lord Marksman means nothing to you?” Caroline questioned, right before she lunged for the sword, but Annalise was quicker. She caught the sword and took up a defensive stance, bringing Caroline up short.
“I cannot present you with the satisfaction of a confirmation,” she said.
Caroline swished her sword through the air before her. With a taunting grin, she declared, “Even if you will not admit your interest in his lordship, you will know great remorse, nonetheless, for I shot Lord Marksman but a bit over a half hour earlier.”
Annalise thought for a second the floor beneath her feet had opened up, and she was falling helplessly, but then anger arrived in its full fury. “Is he dead?” she demanded in a harsh whisper, which betrayed all she felt at the moment.
“You of all people know I am an excellent shot,” Caroline said with a sneer.
Revenge claimed Annalise’s heart. She would not allow her brother’s death to go unpunished. “I suppose you already know my real identity,” she announced, “but in case your father did not inform you of it, I am Lady Annalise Dutton, and Lord Marksman is my brother.” She took up an offensive position. “You have killed my brother. Prepare to die.”
