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“Ye’re daft. I’ll take the lot, and ’er, too, fer me trouble.” Clyde grimaced as she strained against him, then stopped when the dagger pierced her skin. “Else she takes ’er revenge out on me and I’m set before Captain Tom to go up the ladder to me bed.”

“What do you mean?” Samuel asked, paling at the sight of blood trickling down her throat. “All you have to do is take the jewels and money and go.”

“ This is why.” He jerked Lora around to face him. “Don’t ye know who she is? She’s the highwaywoman.”

“Lora?” Samuel grinned. “You jest, surely. My cousin could not harm a fly. Why, she can’t even shoot a bow.”

“Are ye daft? Look at her hooded cloak.”

“It’s a domino costume.”

“She can wield a bow. I’ve seen it. She ’unted with ’er brother and shot me in the back.”

Intense astonishment covered Samuel’s face. “But she?—”

“Tricked ye. Argh. I should ’ave cut ’er down along with ’er brother, but ye bade me not to. I was a fool to listen to ye. She’s been a thorn in me side ever since.”

“What did you say?” Lora asked, fire burning in her belly.

“Ye ’eard that right.” Clyde cackled gleefully. “Yer cousin ordered me to kill the earl.”

“That isn’t how it happened.” The hollow denial flew from Samuel like a lightning bolt. “Don’t believe him. He?—”

“I will kill you for this!” The betrayal blinded her. She bucked and clenched her teeth, so furious she could barely speak.

“Ye see?” He yanked her closer, the blade pricking deeper than before. “Not so tame, after all. If only ye’d known this sooner, ’Awkesbury. Mayhap then I could ’ave saved ye the trouble of ’avin’ to kill ’er now.”

“Don’t kill her,” Samuel cried. He threw off his devil horns and reached out the palm of his hand as if to calm Clyde. “She’s no good to me dead.”

“I can’t let ’er go. She knows too much. She’ll be the death of us.”

“No! No, she won’t,” Samuel reasoned. “Tell him, Lora. Agree to call off this vendetta of yours. I have a plan. It demands sacrifices, but when I inherit, we can marry. The two of us will have everything.”

“Not my brother, and certainly not my father and uncle, who will have to die before your delirious dream comes to fruition. If you think for one moment that I would ever marry you after what you’ve done, and what I suspect you’ve done to your own father?—”

“Poisonin’ ’is father was easy. Got a maid to think she was bein’ ’elpful with a tonic fer the master.

’Awkesbury, ’ere, can’t get ’is ’ands dirty, ye see.

Why, even ’is uniform is borrowed. 33 rd Regiment of Foot, my arse.

If e’d been to France, e’d have one of Wellington’s medals and ’e’d be carryin’ it round, country-put. ”

Samuel must be a silly nube in order to have agreed to such degenerate behavior .

“But the dog booby faked ’is conscription and flashed it off ’alf seas over, usin’ the blunt fer ’is commission to go a whorin’ and gamblin’ in Town, while me and me mate made it look like Kingston ’ad a problem with bandits. ’Twas the only way to keep Jack in ’is office.”

Shock yielded quickly to fury. “You killed the duke’s butler?”

“Aye. The old sot wrestled me to the end.”

“Shut it!” Samuel shouted. “You’re ruining everything!”

“Quit bein’ a Spanish trumpeter. Ye forget I ’eard ye promise the Jew King ye’d be the next marquess, me lad.”

Lora grabbed Clyde’s hand to shove the tip of the dagger away from her neck. She had known Samuel was depraved, but she had never suspected the extent of his wickedness. “You despicable?—”

“A debt unpaid is a life enslaved. ’E’ll never cut even now. And so, it’s time to tell yer pretty bird goodbye.” Clyde lifted his hand, angling the blade against Lora’s neck.

“Stop!” Samuel shouted.

“She’ll never marry ye now, ’Awkesbury.”

Lora took advantage of the distraction. She grabbed Clyde’s arm, shoved the blade away from her neck, stomped on his foot, and then elbowed him in the ribs.

Clyde’s howl of pain confirmed, as she broke free, that she’d shot him while chasing him off the London Road.

Enraged, he lunged for her, but before he could stab her, Samuel stepped in, taking the dagger up to the hilt.

He let out a grunt and clutched at his stomach, staggering back, staring at his mid-section in disbelief.

Clyde charged. A searing whoosh whistled by her and a thump split the air before chaos ensued. Men swooped in from every direction, surrounding Clyde, who lay unmoving on the ground with an arrow impaled in his heart, and Samuel, who sank to his knees.

Before she could react, Myles was suddenly there. He dropped a bow and quiver and pulled her into his embrace. “I thought I’d lost you,” he said against her ear.

She wrapped her arms around him, staring over his shoulder at the hedges, listening to the voices that blended together all around them. “Did you hear?” she asked, near tears.

“Everything.” He withdrew and pulled out a handkerchief, wrapping it around her neck to staunch the trickle of blood still oozing from her wound.

“No one will ever harm you or your family again. I’ll see to it.

” He smiled and clutched her hand in his, declaring, “From this moment forward, we shall never be parted.”

“What about Samuel?” she asked, trying to hide the faint tremor in her voice.

“Lora.”

Samuel’s entreaty snatched a piece of her soul. Blood of the covenant is thicker than water of the womb. She broke away from Myles, understanding Shakespeare’s message, and approached her suffering cousin.

His eyes appeared enlarged and glassy. “Lora.”

“I am here.” Though she preferred to be anywhere else.

“I don’t want to die alone.”

“I am here,” she repeated. Had he ever bothered to wonder how Nicholas felt the day he died?

She bit back despair and took his hand, committed to standing guard and doing the unthinkable—watching the life drain out of his eyes.

His undeniable and dreadful duplicity in Nicholas’s death cut deep, his betrayal something she would never forget. “I won’t let you die alone.”

“I am sorry,” he blurted out. “Nicholas had everything I wanted, and it . . . altered me. Something snapped inside . . . I couldn’t control myself . . .”

“Shhh. Make peace with yourself.”

“I cannot,” he said, seizing. “I cannot go to my grave . . . knowing . . . you hate me.”

She glanced at Myles, understanding the bonds we chose were more significant than the ones provided at birth.

Myles loved her, and she loved him. Through all that they’d lost, there was still time to make lasting connections.

Papa had found love and wanted to live again.

Uncle Thomas was recovering. Aunt Meg would be satisfied knowing that Lora wasn’t going to be a spinster.

Eliza’s future would benefit from Myles’s influence.

Slowly, she let go of the heartache, the loss, the pain, and the lady sworn to vengeance.

“I forgive you.” When she glanced up, she fancied she saw an apparition of Nicholas standing by the hedge.

He smiled in that rakish way of his, gave her a nod, and walked into the bushes, disappearing from sight.

Swallowing back tears, she looked down at her suffering cousin. “I forgive you, Samuel.”

“He’s gone,” Myles said, lifting her to her feet. “His hold on Winterbourne is over.”

Was it? She hardly knew. She moved into Myles’s arms, drinking in the comfort of his nearness. “I am sorry.”

“What have you to be sorry for? It is I who should apologize to you. If I had just danced with you at the Templetons’ ball, perhaps none of this would have happened.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t wish the time we have away.” She stared at him with longing. “You are here, now. We have saved each other’s lives.”

“Indeed, we have.” He smoothed her hair and adjusted her cloak. “Have I told you that I love you, Lora?”

“No.” She fought tears that refused to fall as the men dispersed and his heart thudded against her own. “Not in so many words.”

“Well then.” He held her hands and lowered to one knee. “I love you.”

“What are you doing?”

“It isn’t every day a man falls in love with a wallflower, only to discover that she is the highwaywoman terrorizing the countryside.”

“I did nothing of the sort. Get up.”

“I want to see what you look like from down here whilst I place you on a pedestal. Be prepared to live at lofty heights for the rest of your days, my love.”

Several of the men hauling Samuel’s body away chuckled and saluted Myles.

“Your Grace.” A delightful shiver washed over her. “Which do you prefer?”

“You.” He rose to his feet. “I shall love you in all your incarnations. Lora. Marry me, Lady Vengeance. Make me the happiest of men.”

“Yes,” she said, nodding and overcome with emotion. “A thousand times, yes.”

“Yes?” He grinned. “In that case, I shall worship the ground you walk on for the rest of your days.”

“That may be a very long time. Are you prepared?”

His mouth twitched with amusement. “I am.

“Then I must tell you that I love you, Myles. I always have. I always will.”

“Brilliant. I shall request a special license straightaway.” He placed her hand on his arm and began leading her back through the gardens, where music drifted on the breeze. “Are you ready to return to the masque? I intend to speak to your father.”

“Please wait,” she said. “That is, let him have his fun.” No one could replace Nicholas, but there was contentment in knowing that Papa, that anyone, could start again. “Who knows? If we’re lucky, we might have a double wedding.”