Page 70 of Desires of a Duke Collection

The next morning Emily returned to her parents’ house. Connie was still in bed when she arrived at nine.

“Good morning.” Emily threw open the curtains in Connie's room and looked out at the gray London day beyond. “I think your navy morning dress would be a good choice for today.” Connie needed to be more conservative and less contumacious. Or at least, appear so.

A rustle came from the bed. Emily resisted the urge to roll her eyes at her sister’s indolent habits.

“You can fix this,” Emily added cheerily. As she’d lain awake last night she'd repeated to herself all the ways she was a good person and the answer had come to her. Emily turned to Connie.

“This doesn’t need fixing.” Connie scowled at her from the bed. Her hair was mussed and still in its style from last night.

"If you visit Miss Dalwood later today and leave a calling card—” Emily continued.

“I don't want to be you," Connie snapped. She rubbed her forehead and sat up. Her nightdress looked suspiciously like a chemise.

Irritation scratched at Emily. What was wrong with being like her? Why couldn't Connie understand? Emily came over to the bed and sat on the edge. Reaching out, she tried to take Connie's hand, but her sister snatched it away.

“Lord Florint won't marry you, Connie.” Emily made her voice gentle. Her sister needed to know that she couldn't rely on a man and such rudeness was a risk not worth taking. She would know.

“It doesn’t matter.” Connie's voice rose even as her mouth pinched. “Besides, what do you know about getting a man? Or keeping a man?”

“Pardon?” Emily's mouth fell open. She stared at Connie.

“You heard what I said.” Connie's face was blotchy pink with emotion.

“You don't understand the importance of your reputation—”

“Your precious reputation,” Connie sneered.

“It's yours too.” Emily took a deep breath. “You’ll bring the whole family into disrepute. But we don't have to worry about Lady X— anymore so I can help you repair this damage—”

“You wreck everything,” Connie stated flatly.

“I—” That hurt. In the way only a sister knew, Connie had thrust a knife into Emily's most delicate wound. She did wreck everything. She had hurt and killed and she was a bad person. She swallowed. The bed was inappropriately soft and warm beneath her thighs. “I'm sorry about the gossip.”

“I don't care about the gossip. Go away and stop trying to ruin my life the way you did yours. By shooting James.”

Emily went still. It was that or shout and throw things. How did Connie know about that?

“Then by insisting on all these cages around my life,” Connie continued, “because you think I'm like you.”

Frustration boiled beneath Emily's skin. “I'm trying.” She had to force out the metal words from her throat. “To look after you.”

“I don't need your sort of care. And unlike you, I'm not homicidal. You’re a murderer.” Hate shone out of Connie’s narrowed eyes.

Emily didn’t look away. “Yes. I am.” Oscar had told her she had to own who she was, and here she was. She was evil. “I shot James.”

“You’re a fiend.” Connie’s word echoed around the room, seeming to pass in and out of Emily a dozen times.

She thought of James, and Oscar, and protecting her parents. Ferns, and hunting, the Lady Hunters, and Oscar’s political aspirations. She didn’t have to be perfect.

“I suppose I am.” After so many polite phrases and careful steps, there was freedom in that confession, just as Oscar had said. “I’m not the heroine of my story.” She wanted her sister to understand. “But at the time, I thought he was the villain.” Her anger at his faithlessness had been a stable fire, well fueled, hot and dangerous. She’d loved him. Not maybe in the same way as she loved Oscar. A younger, shallower, harsher love, like the sparks of a firework as opposed to a controlled fire in a grate.

“When he broke off our engagement, he broke my heart. I suppose this is why people shouldn’t have guns in reach.” Uncontrolled fires hurt everyone, the blameless and the guilty. “You never know when your temper might overcome your good sense, even with someone you love. That’s why I wanted you to be protected.”

“It’s not love if you kill him,” Connie hissed.

“It’s a terrible sort of love. But it’s still love.”

They stared at each other.

“The whole world knows what you are now. And I'm glad,” Connie muttered. “I'd do it again. It's got you out of this house and out of my life.”

The suspicion was like a snake, slithering and tightening in and around her.

“What do you mean, you'd do it again?”

“A, B, C.” Connie rolled her eyes. “X, Y, Z.”

The slap rang out.

Emily’s palm stung.

For a moment, she couldn't relate the two.

“You crazy bitch,” Connie hissed. Connie held her hand to her face, her eyes livid.

Maybe Connie had hit her own face because there was no way...

“This is why you needed to be revealed for what you really are.” Connie jerked the covers open and scrambled out of bed. “Mother and Father are always telling me I should be more like you. Now I am. Now they know.”

She really had just hit her sister. The sting of her palm and the fury in her heart corroborated the knowledge.

For a moment the horror of the situation nearly overcame her. Then she remembered: worse had happened. Connie had said she didn’t regret it. Neither did Emily regret what she’d just done.

“You tried to ruin not just me, but Father and Mother, too. Loyalty to those who love you, Connie.” Emily rose. “James didn’t have it and he paid a terrible price. I’ll always regret my actions that day. I let my jealousy blind me to the potential harm I could do. I thought a bit of pain and he’d come to his senses, no harm done.”

Connie shrugged into a robe. “Spreading rumors is hardly the same as shooting someone.”

“Afterwards,” Emily ignored Connie’s remark and continued, “everything I did out of loyalty and love for our family.” She smoothed her skirts and then looked at her sister again. This was the end. For a second, she allowed herself the indulgence of memorizing the lines of Connie’s eyes and the slant of her nose. “Your bitterness and jealousy have led you down the wrong path,” Emily stated. “Believe me, I know that path well.”

Connie stood, arms crossed and mouth set.

Emily wouldn’t feel any guilt about what she was about to do.

“But worse still, you’ve no loyalty. When James betrayed me, I thought I could make him change his mind by him feeling some of my hurt. I won’t make that mistake again. I love you and I wanted the best for you.” Emily smiled sadly. “But you’ve done our parents and me wrong.”

Emily stretched out her arm. Then her lower fingers curled in, as if she was holding a pistol. Her wrist flicked up in an imitation of recoil. “You’re dead to me.”