Page 80 of The Duke Who Claimed Her

“Caspian,” she said as she pointed the gun. “Please, find something to tie my father up with.”

Her father’s eyes widened. “You said that you would let me go!”

“I have changed my mind.”

Caspian nodded once at her command and then hurried from the room in search of something. As luck had it, he found some old rope in the main room. It was worn and moldy, but it would more than do the job.

When he returned, he was delighted to see that Arabella had not moved an inch; she pointed that gun as if she meant to use it. As if she wanted to. She did not tremble. She did not balk. She stared her father down in a way that proved his words beyond question.

She was no longer trapped by him, no longer under his control, and Caspian had never been prouder.

Caspian quickly tied Lord Witherington’s hands behind his back, hoisted him to his feet, and led him from the house with Arabella by his side. The carriage Lord Witherington had arrived in sat parked and waiting, and Caspian opened the door and shoved him inside.

“What will you do?” he asked as he fell onto his face. “If you allow me to leave, I promise that you will never hear from me again! I will leave.” He looked pleadingly at his daughter.

Arabella stared coldly at her father. “Caspian, please close the door.”

“Wait!”

Caspian did as bid and slammed the door closed.

They followed him outside from there and watched as he climbed onto the carriage. He took the reins and looked down at them a final time.

Once the door was closed, Caspian turned and found his wife. She had lowered her pistol. She had started to shake as the adrenaline left her. But when he met her eyes, when he held them in his gaze, Caspian knew one more thing to be true of tonight: never had he seen someone so beautiful, and never had he loved someone as much as he did her.

Chapter Thirty

It was hard to express how Arabella felt in that moment.

There was still a small tingling sensation running through her body that was the last vestiges of fear felt since her father had nearly beaten her, and when she had thought that her life was forfeit.

There was also that distinct feeling of pride at what she had done. That she had stood up to her father once and for all. That she had defeated him resolutely. And that she was now free from him once and for all. From that day on, when she thought of her father, it would be as a sniveling coward begging to be let free, and never would he control her again.

Mostly, what she felt pertained to Caspian.

They stood beside the carriage, able to hear her father still begging to be let go. When Caspian had burst in to save her, she had wanted him to shoot her father dead; she had silently begged for it. She was not surprised that he had come for her, because she knew that he would do so. What surprised her most was his self-control.

He had saved her, but in so doing, he had proven who he really was.

“Arabella…” Caspian’s voice broke through her machinations. “Are you…”

She shook her head and looked at her husband. His breathing was heavy. He had never looked so tired. And while he still carried a weight on his shoulders, worry for her safety, that weight gently lifted as their eyes held, and he saw that she was safe.

“I am fine, Caspian,” she said. “Thanks to you.”

He shook his head. “I should have never… This should not have happened in the first place. That I allowed you to be put in danger⁠—”

“Allowed me?” She cut him off and raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you did?”

“I…” He hesitated. “When I learned that you had been taken, Arabella, I believed that… I thought… I have never been so afraid. And I knew that there was nothing I would not do to save you.”

“Which you did.”

“I almost failed.”

She laughed and shook her head. “How does one almost fail?”

“I am sorry,” he said desperately. “Please know that I will never let something like this happen again.”