Amelia said nothing as Pearce led her inside the Armory, silently letting herself take it all in, this place that had become a second home to him and to his former brothers-in-arms. He’d described the building when he’d taken her home after leaving the tunnel, explained what the men of the Armory’s plans were, waited for her to bathe herself and dress, and insisted that she eat something although she had no appetite. And not leaving her side the entire time.
She knew what to expect now that they were here, yet she couldn’t stop a shudder when the outer iron door banged and screeched as it opened. Or the tremble of unease as they passed beneath the twin portcullis that guarded a second inner doorway. But Pearce was at her side, and with him, she could bear anything.
Even facing down her brother.
He glanced at her fingers as they tightened on his arm. “Are you all right?”
She gave a single determined nod. “I will be.”
He squeezed her hand and escorted her into the building.
The central octagonal room opened before them, its imposing size and shape taking her breath away. But so did the three men who were waiting inside, all of them on their feet and facing the door as she and Pearce entered—the Duke of Hampton, Merritt Rivers…and Frederick.
Straightening her spine, Amelia slipped her hand away from Pearce’s arm. He stopped at the edge of the room and let her walk on alone.
“Amelia!” Frederick started forward. He held out his arms to embrace her. “Thank God you’re all—”
She slapped him. Her hand cracked across his face so hard that the sting of the blow pulsed up her arm and the sound echoed off the stone walls.
He glared at her, rubbing at the red mark already forming on his left cheek. “What the hell—”
She slapped him again, this time with her left hand to the opposite cheek. Even harder than before. So hard that she staggered sideways from the exertion of the blow.
The duke and Merritt both stiffened. Merritt started forward a single step before stopping and shooting Pearce a look questioning whether he should intercede.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Pearce faintly shake his head, to let her confront her brother on her own.
“I know what you did,” she rasped out, the feeling of betrayal in her so intense and raw that she shook.
“Damnation, Amelia!” Frederick hissed. “Control yourself. You are in the presence of a duke.”
She didn’t care. She’d spent too much of her life cowering in front of the Howard men. No more. “I know what you did.”
“Of course you know.” He slid a grim glance between the duke and Merritt. Apparently, they knew, too, having put him through an interrogation after freeing him from the New Prison. Most likely they were simply waiting for her and Pearce to help them decide what to do with him. “You heard the charges that Charles Varnham leveled against me when Bow Street arrested me. I told you about them when the blackmail—”
“My marriage.”
The accusation hit him so forcefully that his mouth fell open, and his eyes flared wide. Shock radiated from him.
The duke and Merritt turned to leave the room. But she held up a hand and stopped them.
“No, stay,” she ordered softly. “Please.”
The men awkwardly exchanged glances but did as she asked and remained.
“I’ve had enough of secrets. I’m living my life out in the open now for all to witness. Starting immediately.” She took a step forward to close the distance between her and her brother. For the first time, he wasn’t at all intimidating. Up close like this, cornered by his own devices, he was simply weak and self-serving. Pathetic. “I know what you did. I know how you schemed to steal my money, the lengths you went to, all the lies and humiliations.” Her voice choked, and she forced out in a rasping whisper, “Damn you…damn you to hell for what you put me through!”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he countered, far too calmly. “Aaron Northam fooled me as much as he did you.”
“Stop the lies!” Consumed by anger, she didn’t step away or back down. “You hired Aaron to pretend to marry me so you could have both my money and your revenge on me for inheriting Papa’s fortune. You couldn’t stand that he passed you over for his daughter.”
“That’s absurd! For you to make those accusations, when I’ve done nothing but help you—” Self-righteous indignation hardened his face. “You know everything I did to pursue Northam. I hired accountants, lawyers, investigators—how I worked to keep your elopement secret so you wouldn’t be ruined socially as well as financially. For God’s sake, Amelia! I took care of you. I did everything I could to make you happy.”
“You mean like the letters I wrote to Pearce, the ones you made certain never reached him? Did they even leave the house, or did you simply burn them in the fireplace the moment my back was turned?” Her words emerged so softly that she barely heard them herself. But if she spoke any louder, she would have screamed. “Is that what you mean by taking care of me?”
“Pearce was nothing then! You deserved better, Amelia. I will not apologize for keeping you from throwing your life away on an army officer.”
Around her, she felt all three men stiffen at that insult. Marcus Braddock slowly folded his arms over his chest in such an imperial posture that the air inside the room turned cold. But Frederick was too wrapped up in saving himself to notice his blunder.
“You lied to me.” She blinked, her eyes burning with furious tears at all he’d cost her. “Just as you’re lying now.”
“I am not—”
“I saw the contract you made with Aaron! I know you paid him—and Arthur Varnham told me the rest. That’s what he used to blackmail you.”
He glared at her, his jaw working in anger, no longer attempting to defend himself. Thank God. At least he wasn’t that much of a fool.
“You must have had such a great laugh at my expense when you planned out how Aaron and I would meet that day in the park, when you gave him information about all my favorites so he would know exactly how to win my affection.” Fresh pain simmered inside her. But she needed to walk through the fire until it seared her heart to him and never let him inside there again. “How did you keep a straight face that day he came to the house to call on me for the first time, watching me beside myself with nervousness as I introduced you, when you’d known each other all along? Or the day you pretended to take him to our banker to introduce them?” The words strangled in her tightening throat, yet she forced them out, needing to utter them. “To go that far for money and revenge… Do you really hate me that much?”
“Yes!” he bit out. “Yes, I do.”
Something deep inside her shattered. Something she knew could never be mended.
Slowly, she nodded, accepting this final destruction. “Then if I were you, Frederick, I would leave England and never return.”
“Self-exile?” he drawled sarcastically, rubbing at the red handprint marking his left cheek.
“Mercy,” she corrected. “That you don’t deserve.”
He gave a scoffing laugh. “You really expect me to do that? To walk away from the life I’ve created here, the power I have as an MP—”
“Yes,” Pearce answered for her, still waiting on the other side of the room. “Or I’ll make certain that you never see the light of day.” He folded his arms over his chest. “You’ll not come anywhere near her again.”
Frederick leveled a murderous glare at Pearce. All the hatred and disdain he’d always held for him surged unchecked to the surface. “I won’t go to prison. Varnham will protect his brother. He’ll have no choice but to rescind all the accusations he’s made once everything his brother has done is revealed. He’ll be the one in prison, not me. He’ll be at the center of talk across the empire, and no one will care what I’ve done.”
“I never said prison.” The threat in Pearce’s voice cut like ice, made all the more murderous by the calm way he issued it. “I’ll put you into your grave.”
“Why, you worthless, arrogant brute—”
Pearce dove across the room and grabbed Frederick by the throat, pinning him to the wall. He dangled there, his feet barely touching the floor. Frederick’s eyes grew wide, and gurgling sounds came from him as he tore at Pearce’s arm. But Pearce never moved a muscle to release him.
“No!” Amelia placed her hand on Pearce’s shoulder to hold him back. “He isn’t worth it.”
Pearce released him and stepped back. Frederick slumped against the wall, his hand going to his throat.
“You will swear out a statement to Mr. Rivers that you tricked me into a fraudulent marriage,” Amelia ordered, her gaze darting to Merritt, who nodded his agreement to assist her. “Then you will leave on the first ship for America.” She linked her arm through Pearce’s, not yet trusting him not to pulp her brother right there on the Aubusson rug. Frederick deserved exactly that—and more. But she simply wanted all of this to end, as quickly as possible. “Go home and pack your trunks. Take anything from the house you want, including whatever banknotes you’ve hidden in your study. And never come back.”
Defeat dimmed Freddie’s eyes. His shoulders sagged.
“I’m free of you now, do you understand? You and Papa have no more power over me.” A sensation she’d rarely known in her life struck her—freedom. “You can never hurt me again.”
Frederick’s jaw worked as he stared at her, wisely saying nothing. She was certain he didn’t recognize the sister he knew within the woman confronting him. Most likely because that girl was gone. In her place was a strong woman who would never again let anyone control her.
He pushed himself away from the wall and hurried from the Armory. The duke and Merritt followed to make certain that he truly was gone. And to give Amelia and Pearce time alone.
Pearce turned to her and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. His eyes shone with love. “I’m so very proud of you for what you just did.”
“And me of you for not hurting him.”
He forced a half grin. “Only because I thought you might want to hurt him yourself.”
“He isn’t worth it,” she repeated, then closed her eyes when Pearce placed a comforting kiss to her forehead.
She stepped into his embrace and welcomed the strength and warmth of his arms as they encircled her. She rested her cheek against his chest and felt the soothing beat of his heart. This was where she belonged, right here in his arms.
Always.