Page 84 of Unbound Duchess

Ellen’s voice was soft and calming as she slipped a hand up his cheek. He didn’t move, didn’t breathe, as he glared at Benedict. All he had to do was take two steps, and he would be on him. He could throw his fists into his face until he was bloodied and broken. He could…

“Laurence,” she repeated in that same angelic tone, her hand stroking lovingly over his cheeks. “Look at me.”

It took him a second to rein in his rage and obey, but when he did, he nearly buckled to his knees. There was a bruise blooming on her temple. Her beautiful lips were red and bruised. Exhaustion and stress clouded her mesmerizing blue eyes, but there was something else there too. Something pure and loving that made his heart ache.

“You are right. You are nothing like him,” she said in that same soothing tone. “You rescued me. You protected me. You are nothing like him.”

“I could kill him,” Laurence snarled, feeling self-loathing overtake him. “Just as he has killed others.”

“But you will not,” Ellen quickly countered. “You are better than him, Laurence. You know you are.”

Something broke within him then, or perhaps snapped into place. He wasn’t sure, but whatever it was, had him wrapping both arms around Ellen. He kissed her softly, so as not to bruise her poor lips any further, and in doing so, another roar of rage from Benedict erupted into the air.

“Oh, do shut up,” Solomon’s voice snapped loudly through the bellowing.

Ellen and Laurence both turned to his voice and found that he and the constable had finally caught up to them with the barred carriage used for transporting prisoners. Benedict’s roaring ceased as he spotted the constable, but he let out a snarl of pain as Solomon and the constable hauled him to his feet.

“Do we have our confession?” Solomon demanded to know, glaring furiously at Benedict.

Laurence grimaced as he shook his head.

“Not the one we want,” he grimly replied, “though the kidnapping charges are obvious.”

The rage in Solomon’s face was apparent as he bared his teeth and gave Benedict a violent shake.

“You know what you did!” he exploded, red-faced and feral as he yelled in Benedict’s face. “It is because of you that Annabel Curtis is dead! You destroyed her innocence! Admit it!”

“I will not,” Benedict growled back. “I showed her an opportunity to live a different life; that is all! I was not there. I did not kill her!”

“Maybe not,” Ellen spoke up, causing Solomon to freeze just as he cocked his fist back and readied to punch Benedict in the face.

“But we do have a confession of at least one murder,” Ellen said quietly, her gaze settling solely on her cousin.

Benedict shook his head, his gaze suddenly pleading.

“Ellie, do not⁠—”

“He murdered my father,” she cut him off. “Confessed to poisoning him.”

“No!” Benedict snarled, struggling within the two men’s grasp. “I did no such thing! She is lying!”

“There is proof,” Laurence said. His tone was quiet, but it seemed to catch everyone’s attention anyway, as all eyes turned to him.

“What?” Ellen breathed, her brows furrowed. He hated, hated the look of betrayal in her eyes.

“I was going to tell you,” he swore. “I was just waiting for this to be over. I thought you should have the opportunity to recover from one misfortune before I revealed another.”

It hurt him to tear his gaze away from her, but he did, looking at the constable.

“In his study there is a window seat,” he explained. “Remove the cushions and lift it. Inside you will find diaries that point to his involvement in Robert Curtis’ death.”

Benedict’s red face paled as his eyes widened.

“How do you know that?” he rasped.

Laurence did not answer. The constable, who seemed to have heard enough, began dragging Benedict toward the barred carriage. Just as he was ready to unlock it, though, Madalene came around the carriage, her eyes bright with rage and her face set in determination. Benedict stopped struggling at once, his eyes growing impossibly wide as he looked her up and down.

“Annabel?” he whispered.