Recalling Lord Gatesbourne's directive that the duke not know about the attack on Julianne, and not wishing to do anything that would cause Julianne's father to dismiss him, Gideon answered, "What I've been doing all along: investigating the murders and robberies."

"Here?"

"It is necessary that I interview everyone who knew the victims. What brings you here?"

The duke's gaze chilled. "That's hardly your concern."

"I disagree. Until this criminal is caught, everything is my concern."

His Grace slapped his gloves into Winslow's hands. "I'm here to call upon Lady Julianne."

"I see. Before you meet with her, I have a few questions I'd like to ask you."

"I don't see why. I've already answered your questions and told you everything I know."

"These questions are regarding your deceased wife."

The duke stared at him for a full ten seconds before replying. Then he turned to Winslow. "Mayne and I would like to converse in private. May we make use of the library?"

"Of course, Your Grace." Winslow escorted them down the corridor.

After being shown into the library, the duke said to the butler, "After Mr. Mayne leaves, I'd like to see Lady Julianne."

"Yes, Your Grace."

As soon as Winslow withdrew and closed the door, the duke turned to him. "I can't imagine what you would want to ask about my dead wife."

No, but you're apparently curious enough to find out and make sure we had privacy when the questions came. "Let me first say I am sorry for your loss." When the duke's only reply was a frosty glare, Gideon continued, "I understand Her Grace committed suicide."

"Yes."

"She was distraught over miscarrying a child."

"Yes. Unless you can explain why questions about her death are necessary, I refuse to listen to any more of this." He started toward the door.

"I've received reports of rumors she didn't die by her own hand."

The duke stopped as if he'd walked into a wall. He slowly turned. The gaze he leveled on Gideon was the coldest he'd ever seen. "And I suppose it is your duty as a Runner to dig up those filthy, untrue rumors?"

Gideon's gaze didn't waver. "It's been my experience³n me f that rumors oftentimes are true, or at least partially true."

"Clearly you've been listening to the whispers of disgruntled servants who were dismissed after my wife's death. Not the best source for the truth." His gaze drilled into Gideon. "You think I killed my wife?"

"Did you?"

"Let me ask you a question, Mayne. My wife was young, desirable, and beautiful. What possible reason could I have for killing her?"

"That is indeed a very interesting question. Here's another one: Why would a woman with a deep fear of firearms choose to end her life with a pistol?"

There was no mistaking the anguish that flickered in the duke's gaze. For several seconds he looked like an empty shell. A man who'd lost everything. A man who'd deeply loved his wife. Certainly not the expression of a man who would have killed her. Then his face hardened, and he looked Gideon over as if he were something he'd scraped off the bottom of his expensive boots. "I don't know. And I'll thank you to never mention this painful subject to me again. As there is nothing more to say on the matter…" He finished crossing the room and opened the door. "On your way out let Winslow know I'm ready to see Lady Julianne."

"Very well." Gideon quit the room then returned to the foyer, where he delivered the message to Winslow. As soon as the butler headed toward the dining room, Gideon strode down the corridor and entered the sitting room next to the library. He positioned himself near the adjoining door, which remained ajar.

And waited.

Chapter 19

Julianne stared at the duke, his words tolling through her mind like a death knell. Did she look as horrified as she felt? She could only thank God she was already seated, because his statement left her shaking.

"I… I beg your pardon?"

"I'll be announcing our engagement at my party this evening."

Nausea and panic warred within her. "But…why? My parents have everything planned to make the official announcement at their party next week."

"My plans have changed, and I'm needed back in Cornwall sooner than I'd anticipated. We shall make the official announcement tonight. I already have the special license; therefore, the wedding will take place in two days. We'll leave for Cornwall immediately after the ceremony."

Two days… Dear God. She squeezed her eyes shut. She felt dizzy. As if she weren't inhabiting her own body. As if this nightmare were happening to someone else, and she was just watching it from far away.

He lifted her limp hand where it lay lifeless in her lap and pressed a kiss to the back of her fingers. She opened her eyes and found him watching her. Through those cold eyes she'd have to look into for the rest of her life. He was a good-looking man. So why didn't she find him in the least bit attractive? His eyes were actually quite the perfect shade of blue. So why did they appear so chilly to her?

"I know this comes as a surprise." He offered her a smile. "But not an unpleasant one, I hope."

She had to press her lips together to contain the hideous laugh that threatened to escape. Unpleasant? That was the most lukewarm word she could imagine to describe this entire revolting debacle. She could scream and rail and refuse, but in the end she'd lose. And really, what difference did it make if she married him in two days or two weeks or even two hours? Gideon didn't want her for any period of time. Since her marriage to the duke was inevitable, it was better to just get it over with as quickly as possible.

"I know we don't know each other very well, Julianne," he said quietly, "but that will change. I'm sure you'll love Cornwall. As for the rushed wedding, I'm afraid it can't be helped."

"In two days," she agreed, feeling as if a noose had just been put around her neck. "Have you told my parents?"

"I told your father at the club before coming here. If you'll ring for the servant to summon her, I'll speak to your mother now."

"Of course." Somehow she managed to rise and pull the bell cord. Her gaze fell upon the slightly ajar door leading to the sitting room. Gideon. He'd heard everything. As soon as she left this room, he'd appear. And she couldn't face him. Couldn't face anyone. She needed some time alone.

When Winslow appeared a moment later, she said, "Will you please tell Mother the duke wishes to speak with her? And that I've gone to my room to rest. To be refreshed for tonight's party."

"Yes, Lady Julianne."

After Winslow withdrew, Julianne, still engulfed in a numb fog, turned to the man who would be her husband in two days and offered him a curtsy. "If you'll excuse me, Your Grace…"

He offered her a formal bow. "Of course, my dear. You must get your rest. You've a big evening ahead of you." He smiled. "We both have."

Unable to do more than nod, Julianne quit the room. Not wanting to risk seeing her mother or Gideon, she gathered up her skirts and broke into a run, heading away from the foyer and taking the servants' stairs. By the time she reached the top, her breath was hitching, and sobs she couldn't contain were clogging her throat.

It was over. All her hopes. All her dreams. Her time had run out.

The only word that kept pounding through her mind as she hurried down the corridor toward her bedchamber was escape. Escape. But it was a futile, useless word. There was nowhere to go. Except to Cornwall. As the Duchess of Eastling.

Another sob broke from her throat. Lifting her skirts higher, she dashed the last few feet to her bedchamber. As soon as she closed the door behind her and locked it, she leaned against the oak panel and buried her face in her hands. Tears leaked between her fingers, matching the pain pouring from her heart.

If only she could run away. But she knew if she did, she'd be found. And anyone who might assist her would then face her father's retribution. Which she knew would be swift. And ugly.

She sank to the floor, wrapped her arms around her bent legs, and rested her forehead on her knees. No sooner had she done so than a knock sounded on the door, and the knob rattled.

"Julianne…please open the door." Gideon's low, quiet voice drenched her eyes with a fresh supply of tears.

"I… need to be alone. Just for a little while."

"I heard what happened. I know you're upset. Open the door. Please."

She shook her head, then realized he couldn't see her. "Just a few minutes to myself."

He was silent for several seconds. "Will you at least go into the blue bedchamber?"

She lifted her head and realized that out of habit she'd entered her own bedchamber, the one Gideon was using. "The windows are locked. No one can get in through the balcony."

Another silence, then, "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Yes. You can leave me alone for a little while."

She heard him sigh. Imagined him raking his hands through his hair. "All right. For a little while. Caesar will be right outside the door while I arrange for some tea to be brought up for you."

"Thank you," she murmured.

"And then you will need to open the door."

She heard his muffled footfalls against the carpet as he walked away, then silence. After several moments her silent sobs tapered off, and her shaking ceased, leaving behind exhaustion and a sense of calm finality. Everything was settled. No more wishes. No more dreams. She knew what she had to do.

She rose to her feet and crossed the room with slow, deliberate steps. From the corner of her eye she noticed Gideon's hairbrush and comb on her dresser, but rather than detouring to run her fingers over them, she continued toward her destination.

She knew what she had to do.


* * *

Gideon handed a hastily scribbled sealed note to Winslow. "How quickly can that be delivered? It is of the utmost importance."

Winslow glanced at the direction written on the note. "Within the quarter hour."

"Can the messenger wait for a reply?"

"Yes, Mr. Mayne."

Gideon nodded his thanks then headed toward the kitchen to arrange for tea for Julianne. Julianne… who right this minute he knew was crying, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. Bloody hell, it was enough to make a man go mad. If she didn't open the door when he went back upstairs, he might have to consider breaching the lock. To ascertain for himself that she was all right.

He waited while Mrs. Linquist put the tea tray together. When she finished, he insisted on taking it up himself. As he entered the foyer, Winslow handed him a note. "Your reply, Mr. Mayne."

Gideon read the brief message, and a sense of relief washed through him. "Thank you, Winslow."

He continued on to Julianne's bedchamber. Caesar sat like a sentinel outside the door and gave a quiet woof as Gideon approached. He knocked on the door and said, "Your tea has arrived. May I come in?"

When he received no answer, he knocked louder. "Julianne? Can you hear me?"

Silence. A sick feeling tightened his stomach. He quickly set down the tea tray and turned the knob. Still locked. "Julianne. Answer me." He could hear the edge of fear in the sharply spoken words.