For certainly there was no single Chase, not if all these people admitted to being the man behind the stained glass window, watching from his domain high above their world.
Duncan looked to Georgiana, standing, incredulous, on her table, watching her world stand for her. Without hesitation.
She met his gaze, and he saw the tears glistening in those eyes. He wanted to climb over the tables to get to her, to tell her how much she was loved. To tell her how remarkable she was.
“No!” The Earl of Tremley howled from his place on the floor of the casino, and Duncan turned to find the man clamoring to get to him. “It’s not true!” Tremley cried, high-pitched and nasal as he climbed up onto another table, facing him. “You only play at this game with your whore to keep your own history secret!”
Silence fell at the anger in the earl’s tone.
Duncan’s heart began to pound as Tremley turned to the room. “Ask yourselves, who is this man who runs your newspapers? Where did he come from? How did he rise?”
Duncan looked to Georgiana, taking in her wide, frightened gaze, knowing that this was the end – that Tremley would reveal everything, and with that, he would lose everything.
And strangely, as he waited for the axe to fall, the only thing he cared was that Georgiana was safe.
Tremley asked one final question. “What is his name?”
There was silence as Tremley’s words echoed through the room.
Duncan was holding Georgiana’s gaze, ready for what came next, so he saw it when she replied, her red lips curving into a bold smile that did not reach her eyes.
Her eyes were too full of fear.
“Don’t tell us his name is Chase, my lord.”
And with that single, well-placed sentence, she set the casino to laughing, his beautiful, brilliant love. She saved him. Just as he had saved her, in front of the wide world, where none but the two of them could see it.
At the laughter, Tremley went mad, reaching into his coat to remove a pistol, turning it on West. “I am through with you.”
The laughter in the casino died the moment Tremley extracted his pistol, quickly replaced by shock.
Georgiana could think only of Duncan.
She had not just saved him in one way to lose him in another. She looked across the room at Bourne and Temple, both of whom were headed for the place where Tremley stood, but they were too far and the club was too full. They’d never get to him in time.
Duncan raised his hands into the air. “My lord,” he said. “You do not want to do this.”
Tremley laughed, “There are few things in the world I want to do more than this. How dare you think you can use my sins against me? Does it not occur to you who I am?”
“I know who you are,” Duncan said. “Many people do. Everyone here. And if you kill me, they will know it.”
“But they won’t care.”
“I think they will,” she announced, impressed that she was able to keep the fear from her tone. Terrified that he would shoot.
Terrified that she would lose Duncan before she had a chance to tell him how much she loved him. Terrified of life without him.
Tremley turned the weapon on her, and she’d never in her life been more grateful than when Duncan was no longer in harm’s way. “They certainly won’t care if I kill you.”
“No!” Duncan’s shout came loud and clear and full of fury, and from the corner of her eye, Georgiana saw him running for the earl, leaping from table to table.
Georgiana focused on the pistol, wondering if Tremley had the courage to pull the trigger. Wondering who would care for Caroline if she were killed.
Wondering who would love Duncan if she were killed.
Wishing she’d had the courage to tell him she loved him. Just once.
“Tell me, my lord,” a strong, clear voice rang out next to Georgiana, and she turned to see a masked woman, standing on a table behind Duncan. “Who will care if I kill you, you treasonous bastard?”
It was Lady Tremley.
Georgiana placed the voice a split-second before Duncan leapt to tackle Tremley to the ground, and a gunshot sounded in the massive room.
Tremley and Duncan fell from the tables, and Georgiana was instantly in motion, heading for them, her heart in her throat, before they hit the ground.
The crowd went wild, screaming and scattering, nearly trampling each other in their rush to get away from the weapon and the scene of the murder. Georgiana couldn’t find Duncan – between the smoke from the pistol’s report, and the crush of people, she could not see him..
She flew over the tables, staying on high ground, leaping from roulette to faro to vingt-et-un to hazard, crossing the casino floor to where he had been moments earlier.
Praying that he was safe.
When she found him, he was on the floor, on his back, eyes closed. She leapt down beside him, crying his name. “No…” she whispered, putting her hands to his chest, unbuttoning his coat. “No no no no.” The word became her chant as she slid her hands into his jacket, throwing the lapels back, searching his chest for blood or a wound. Or anything.
He captured her hand in his. “Stop.”
Her breath caught. “You’re alive.”
He opened his eyes. “I am.”
She burst into tears.
“Oh, love,” he said, sitting up and pulling her into his arms. “No. Don’t cry.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Christ,” he whispered to the hair there. “You were magnificent. You saved me, you gorgeous, perfect girl.”