Callum turned just as Elizabeth cried out. Instinctually raising his hand, he managed to block the downward swipe of Dervin’s knife. The blade ripped through his clothes and burned as it sliced his skin. Ignoring it, Callum rushed at Dervin, knocking them both backwards.

Quickly standing, Callum eyed Dervin as the other man also regained his footing. Cursing his own stupidity, his lack of vigilance, Callum briefly wondered who John thought hid in the gaming house.

“Oh, come now, gov’nor,” Dervin said, brandishing the knife. “Give us a hug. You’ve finally found me after all this time.” He circled several steps to the side and Callum saw he moved for Elizabeth. “Or is his lordship afraid to do his own bidding?”

“I’m quite happy to do my own bidding,” Callum snapped, eyeing the knife, “and slit your treacherous throat.”

“Oh, the earl is going to get his hands dirty!” Dervin laughed, a low, mocking sound. “Before too long all you titled fobs will have to get your hands dirty.”

Having no idea what the other man meant, Callum eased forward. He needed to get the knife from Dervin, it was his only weapon. The wild look in the other man’s eyes changed, and he moved left. Callum braced himself, but instead of left, Dervin moved right. Caught in mid-move, Callum pivoted on his heel.

Before he could reach Dervin, Elizabeth threw one of the many statuettes dotting the foyer. The marble caught Dervin in the shoulder, knocking him down. Suddenly she was by his side, thrusting a knife into his hand.

Callum didn’t look at her, kept all his attention on Dervin. The other man hadn’t seen Elizabeth give him the knife.

“You’re next dearie,” Dervin snarled, holding his shoulder. “I won’t be forgetting about you.”

Elizabeth said nothing, but did move out of the way. Callum angled his wrist to hide the knife from Dervin, unwilling to let the other man see how the odds had changed. Dervin rushed him, gripping his long, curved knife tightly as he did so.

Callum jumped to the side and followed Dervin. The other man spun easily, obviously well used to fighting in close quarters. Advancing on him, Callum still kept the knife out of view.

“I would’ve preferred to see you hang.”

So saying, Callum leapt the distance and stabbed Dervin, thrusting the knife upwards. It took a movement for Dervin to register the shock at having been stabbed. The other man’s fingers fell open and the knife clattered to the marble floor as he automatically reached to cover the wound.

It was far too late. Callum stepped back, bringing the knife with him, and Dervin collapsed to the floor. Blood pooled beneath him, staining the white-veined marble. Strangely, the shock on his face changed. And as the life bled from Dervin, the look on his face transformed into one of triumph.

Stepping back, Callum turned to Elizabeth who ran into his arms. She held him tight, a fierce hug that told him everything he needed to know about her feelings. She didn’t cry out at the sight of Dervin’s body, didn’t sob over him.

“You’re safe,” she breathed, the relief evident.

Callum could hear the servants rushing through the house. There were people to contact, explanations to make but right then all Callum wanted was to hold Elizabeth.

“It’s over,” Callum whispered, holding her close. He tangled his hand in her hair and breathed in the lush scent of her. “It’s over and no one will ever hurt you again.”

She pulled back and kissed him hard. Elizabeth didn’t say anything, didn’t retreat from his arms as the servants raced into the foyer, but he could see everything she felt in her eyes.

“No one will ever hurt you,” Callum repeated. “Never.”

She nodded once and pulled him close.

****

Henrietta read through the missive once more. She hadn’t known what to think when Aycliff and Miss Darton had left this afternoon. Oh, she’d been pleased her little plan had worked, and seeing them leave together did warm her cynical heart, but Henrietta hadn’t been sure.

Her people had informed her that neither Miss Darton nor Lord Aycliff had left the room she’d had prepared for them until doing so together. And knowing Aycliff’s passion for the young woman, she doubted Miss Darton had been able to deny her own feelings. Still, one night of passion did not necessarily mean all had been resolved between them.

Now, having received Aycliff’s detailed letter and having all her fears for the young couple assuaged, she found herself giving a romantic sigh at the conclusion of this business.

Which did naught to appease her worry over this Dervin business.

Donald came in with several papers, muttering as he mentally calculated the numbers on them. Their masque ball had been extravagant, but Henrietta cared little for the expense. The reputation of the Club amongst its members had only increased with yesterday’s event. Standing, she poured herself a cup of tea and offered Donald Aycliff’s letter.

“You’ll be happy to know,” she said as he took the missive, “Elizabeth and Aycliff have found their way back to each other. Our little scheme worked perfectly.”

Donald looked up at her with a wicked grin and set his papers on her desk. “Oh?”

“And there’s a bonus,” she added with relish. “That snake, Dervin, decided to slither into Aycliff’s house.”

Donald raised an eyebrow and scanned the letter. “I assume Aycliff didn’t take too kindly to that? Is Dervin in prison?” He flipped the letter over. “Or being prepared for a pauper’s grave?”

“Straight to the grave,” she told him. “Minus a visit to the courts.”

Circling her desk, she picked up the scandal sheet and looked it over as Donald read the end of Aycilff’s letter.

“This rubbish,” she said, brandishing the paper with a frown, “will no doubt celebrate Elizabeth’s return tomorrow. Just as it vilified her a year ago. I hope she soon realizes that her and Aycliff’s story has become a legend. And she’ll undoubtedly be welcomed, with great fanfare, back into society.”

Having finished the letter, he handed it back to Henrietta. “I’m afraid,” he said, shaking his head, “that’s something she hasn’t believed in all this time. It’ll be nice for her to witness how Aycliff’s love for her has enraptured even the coldest, sharpest tongued gossip in London.”

Henrietta smiled at her lover and nodded. “Yes it will. However, now that Aycliff’s story is finished, I still believe there’s more behind Mr. Darton’s framing than meets the eye. I just can’t put my finger on it.”

She tapped the scandal sheet, but her eyes drifted to the papers Donald had set down. Perhaps she needed to look over a roster of the Club. She didn’t exactly know what she looked for, but the niggling fear that this whole business was far from over refused to leave her.

“I do believe you’re correct, my love,” Donald said.