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“I know what you did. This is for the bruises on her neck.” James pulled back his arm and delivered a heavy punch to the man’s nose. The Marquess slumped against the wall as his nose broke, the bone crunching audibly. “Do you want something for the strike to her head too?”
“No, no!” The Marquess dove under James’ arm, escaping across the room. “Please, no more. No more!”
“I see you are not denying it anymore.” James was in no doubt at all, watching the man before him, who, at his words, fell quiet. It was the only confession James needed. “You have my money.”
“You want it back?” the Marquess asked, his hands shaking as he gripped the back of an armchair and put it between himself and James.
“Take it for all I care. Use it to leave and never come back to London. Come back, and you die.” James watched as the Marquess cowered behind the chair. “I pray you believe me, for I will carry out my threat.”
The Marquess hesitated for a minute, clearly not knowing what to do.
“Do you deny my conviction?” James launched himself across the room, only thinking of this man when he had hold of Marina’s throat. “Then let me show you.”
“No!” The Marquess dove down, trying to hide behind the chair as James chased him. The door opened a second later, and the old butler stumbled in.
“Oh my, shall I call the constable?” he asked, his voice shaking.
“No! Get out!” the Marquess barked, running around another chair to try and escape. James followed him, catching up with him. He grabbed hold of the Marquess’ throat, just as the man had done to Marina, and held him against a table, so the man could not escape.
“This is what you did to her, isn’t it? You held her like this in the carriage?” He didn’t squeeze, he merely pressed the man’s throat, wanting him to know the fear he’d caused in Marina. “Before you ever lay your hands on a woman in this manner again, remember this feeling. Remember the fear of what would happen if I squeezed.”
He saw the man’s pale blue eyes widen in fear then James released him, stepping back. The Marquess took the opportunity to escape, running back behind the armchair.
“I’ll go. I vow it. I’ll go this afternoon.” The Marquess spoke in a rush, so desperate to speak that one word followed the next, the syllables barely distinct from one another. “I’ll leave London. For good!” He waved a hand in emphasis. When James stepped forward, he mirrored the action, stepping back.
“Do, or I shall return here.” James left hurriedly, not waiting around to see the Marquess’ reaction any further. He had a plan, despite his words to the Marquess, and he had to put it in place at once if it was all going to go right.
* * *
“What is going on?” Marina asked. She’d only just waved off her parents as James came speeding down the driveway atop his horse, the steed so frenzied that it whinnied into the air as James pulled him to a hasty halt.
“We’ve found him,” James called to her.
“What?” Marina hastened toward him, running with the skirt of her gown in her hands.
“We’ve found him!” James declared happily, jumping down from the saddle.
Something about the words made Marina abruptly weak at the knees. The memory of the masked man was not something that was easy to ignore. She thought of him all too easily, for he had haunted her dreams the last two nights since she had returned home.
“Marina,” James’ voice softened as he moved toward her. His hands found her waist, and she gripped his waistcoat, finding she needed that support with her knees so weak. “There will be no more nightmares, not when he’s gone, I promise you that.”
She gulped, remembering what had happened the night before. James had slept beside her, neither of them having any wish to sleep apart these days. She’d gone to sleep with her hand in his own then woken trembling, for her nightmare had taken her back to that damp cellar where the masked man had held her. This time in the dream, that man had just kept pressing on her throat.
“It’s just a dream, Marina, just a dream.”James had woken at her sudden yelp as she sat upright in bed, and he threw his arms around her. She’d clutched to his shoulder, not wanting to be weak, yet she had given into fear and cried. Never had she felt so safe as she had in James’ arms.
“You’ve found him?” she repeated, scarcely able to believe it. “Truly?”
“Yes.” James nodded. “He was one of the debtors who hadn’t paid. He as good as admitted it, and he said he’d leave London for good.”
“Oh.” Marina frowned. “And you believe him?”
“No, that’s why…” He broke off as the sound of horses’ hooves on the drive, and he looked toward their gate. Marina looked too, recognizing the face of the man on the horse at the front. It was Michael, and behind him on six other horses were constables, their uniforms fixed in place with their silver buttons shining brightly.
“What is going on?” Marina asked, her eyes darting over all of the men before her.
“I sent a message to Michael,” James explained in a rush, releasing Marina and going for his horse, “to meet me here with the constables. The Marquess of Stanton will be arrested for this.”
“Arrested?” Marina felt a sudden leap in her chest. She followed James and lowered her voice, so no one but him could hear her as she whispered, “A trial would make the papers. I wouldn’t blame you for having had enough of your names being in the scandal sheets, James. I truly wouldn’t.”
