Page 79 of Lady Arabella’s Reluctant Hero

They'd be looking, wouldn't they? As soon as she failed to appear, they'd have been searching for her. And maybe Thea had told them straight away if she'd seen, and⁠—

And Pierce was still talking. All about her assignment, and how it fell upon her to befriend the young Halliday girl and then make the introduction to Pierce.

Her stomach turned with revulsion. Another victim. And he expected Arabella to hand deliver her.

A surge of anger so fierce and overwhelming made her face warm and her muscles tense. She tugged her arm from his grip before she could even think through what she was about to do.

She barely recognized her voice when she interrupted him coldly. "There isn't going to be a next assignment, James."

His brows arched slightly in surprise. But the flicker of amusement in his eyes at her anger only fueled her fury.

"I've done what you asked," she said. "For two years, I've done everything you asked. But it's over. My father expects me to marry Lord Edgmond, and once I'm engaged⁠—"

"Your father." Pierce's lip curled. "Your father would sell you to a butcher if the price was right and you know it."

Her jaw snapped shut. It was all too true. But hearing Pierce say it made her want to slap the sneer off his face.

"The arrangement stands." Pierce's voice had gone hard. "You work for me until I say otherwise. The marriage⁠—"

"The marriage is a fraud." The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

She hadn't planned to say it. Not here, like this, in the middle of the Dark Walk without the assurance of Blackwood and his men nearby to rescue her.

She'd planned to wait, to maneuver. But really. She was so very tired of being afraid of this man.

It was as though two years of fear had finally snapped something inside of her. Any lingering fear gave way to fury all at once.

Pierce had gone very still beside her. "What did you say?"

"Reverend Craddock was never ordained. The ceremony was not legal." Her voice was shaking but the words were clear. "The marriage never existed, James. You have nothing on me."

His face changed. The pleasant mask dissolved, and then something colder settled into place. Something she had never seen before, and that frightened her more than anything he had ever said.

"Who told you that?" His voice was barely above a whisper.

"It doesn't matter who⁠—"

"Who told you that?" He grabbed her other arm, yanking her close. His face was inches from hers, and his eyes—those warm, attentive eyes that had once made a sixteen-year-old girl feel special…

They were flat and empty. "What have you done, Arabella?"

A shout echoed from somewhere to their left. A man's voice, distant, but sharp. It could have been anyone. A drunk. A reveler.

Or it could be Blackwood.

She offered up a prayer that it was someone coming to help her.

Pierce's head snapped toward the sound. And when he looked back at her, his features were contorted in a snarl. She was reminded of a mangy cur she'd once seen in an alley, cornered and snarling.

The knife appeared from inside his coat. A gentleman's pocketknife, small but sharp. In a heartbeat he'd moved. He'd gone from standing before her to pinning her against his chest, one arm locking her in place, the knife at her throat before she could draw breath.

The blade was cold. And it sat exactly where his fingers had pressed at the Adelphi. The memory hit her so hard she nearly choked.

"You stupid girl." His whisper was hot against her temple. "What have you done?"

She couldn't speak. The blade was too close, the pressure too precise. He knew exactly what he was doing.

He'd done this before, she realized.