” she did not wait for three, instead yanking the knife from his chest, straight and true. He did not move, and she ignored the ache in her chest at his stillness. She looked down at Temple, his face pale. She handed the stack of linens to the countess before hiking up her skirts to kneel on the table next to Temple’s head, placing firm hands on the knife’s bloody hilt. When the earl and the marquess cut her vicious looks, she stared back, refusing to be cowed. All he deserved.īourne released her and she moved to the stack of linens, folding them into a haphazard bandage and bringing the bucket of steaming water closer. All the truth.Īnd if not, at least she could give him all she had. She wanted to give him everything for which he asked. She would do everything she could to save him. Mara did not hesitate, moving toward him. The countess looked from one man to the next, then to Mara. It was the closest she’d come to a bargain with God in a decade. To some beautiful woman and their beautiful children on his beautiful estate. If he lived, she’d give him everything he wanted and leave him to his happiness.

What had she done to this man? What had he done to deserve her in his life? If he lived. She watched the men move to hold Temple down-three of them to keep his massive body still-and she tried not to notice the way his skin had gone sallow, life seeping from him on a river of blood. A great deal, I imagine.” Mara closed her eyes at the words, willing them to be true. “If we’re lucky, he shan’t be when we do this. We shall require your strength to keep him down.” “Asriel, you will have to release Miss Lowe. She steeled herself and met the marquess’s eyes. “You’re a doctoress, now?” The words oozed lazy condescension. “You’ll need more linen than that.” Her gaze flickered to the knife. “You must remove it swiftly, and immediately apply pressure,” she said, deliberately avoiding the gazes of the men in the room, looking only to the surprised eyes of the countess.

She looked to the pile of linen near Temple’s head on the low table. She moved toward his still form, and was stayed once more by the strong grip of his man-at-arms. She would lay herself at his feet and give him his chance at retribution.

She did not say it, because they neither cared to hear her story, nor deserved to.

Read no good duke goes unpunished