breaths. It was finally over. Prinny was safe and no one had died to ensure it.
At some point during the night Olivia had changed into her nightclothes. Now she was curled up fast asleep in her dressing gown. The day had been physically and emotionally draining for both of them. Caressing her check gently, he took comfort in the warmth of her skin before heaviness settled around his heart.
Olivia blinked up at him through sleepy eyes. ‘You should be in bed.’
A sad smile tugged his lips at the sound of her voice. ‘I thought you had left,’ he said.
‘I told you, I would stay.’
* * *
Olivia rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and studied Gabriel. There was life back in his eyes and he was standing tall, not hunched in pain. She could leave him now. He was on the mend.
‘When I awoke, and did not see you...’ He took a deep, shaky breath, and lowered himself into the chair next to her. ‘I thought you would want to know I received a note from Andrew. Both Janvier and his accomplice have been questioned. I’m certain they will be tried for treason and both hanged in the next few days.’
She sat up straighter at the news. ‘What did they learn?’
‘The woman who shot me has no wish to hang alone. She confessed to trying to kill Prinny and identified Janvier as the man who’d promised to pay for her passage home to France if she helped him with his plot. She shadowed the man who tried to kill Prinny the day we were returning from Mr Owen’s and traced him to the Tower. At the Tower, she seduced a guard and convinced him to let her see the gunman. While there, unbeknownst to him, she poisoned that gunman’s food. I’m certain in the coming days we will learn more.’
‘Do they know anything of her?’
‘She’s an impoverished French aristocrat who has no love of the British Crown or the ton. Apparently she met Janvier at a coffee house, where they shared similar views.’
‘Does this mean Prinny is safe?’
‘For now,’ he said on a sigh. ‘However, a man in his position will always be a target.’
She walked to a table near the window and poured herself a glass of port. As she brought the glass to her lips, the warm rich smell held no appeal and she lowered it to the table.
‘Will you not have some?’ he asked with confusion. ‘After this evening, I would think you might want the entire bottle.’
‘I find I no longer have a taste for port.’ She walked back to her chair and did not miss the sombre turn of his lips. ‘I burned the portrait.’
His eyes widened and he followed Olivia’s gaze to his bed.
‘I found it while you were sleeping,’ she explained. ‘The canvas was visible from here. I burned it for you.’
‘But I had no intention of destroying it.’
‘You hated it.’
‘I hated the fact that it would be seen by all of London. I never hated the portrait. For all his faults, Manning is a talented artist.’
‘What would you have done with it?’
‘I don’t know, but I knew I needed to take it.’ He lowered his head, noticing the scrap of embroidery near her feet. ‘Is that a cat?’
‘No, it’s not a cat,’ she replied defensively. ‘It’s a bouquet of flowers.’
‘Oh, of course.’ He looked back at the tangle of string on silk. ‘I see it now.’
She stared at the mess of needlework and picked it up. With barely a glance, she tossed it over her shoulder. ‘I intended to stitch flowers. I think it looks more like a dog, but I suppose a cat would be accurate as well.’
‘Don’t leave me, Olivia.’ There was a catch to his voice.
She let out a deep breath not wanting to talk with him about her decision. ‘I cannot stay.’
He leaned forward. ‘You can. I can fix this between us.’
‘You do not want me. There is no reason for us to live together. There is nothing to fix. I will honour my word not to reveal your secrets, but we are finished. Prinny needs you and I need you to keep him safe. You will do that for me, won’t you? Make sure no harm comes to him? He may be foolish at times, but he is a sweet man.’
He reached over to take her hand, but she stood and stepped away.
‘I will do all in my power to ensure his safety.’
‘Do not get shot again. This should be the last time.’
‘I will try my best.’
She walked to the door, needing to put distance between them or she would never leave. The sad look in his eyes had tugged too strongly at her heart. Or what was left of her heart now.
‘I love you.’ His voice was clear and deep.
She swung back around and stared at him. For years she had wanted him to say that to her. For years she’d wanted to say it back. But now it was too late. He didn’t know how to speak the truth. And she loved him too much to be able to bear to hear him say it again.
‘You don’t get to say that to me,’ she snapped, pointing her finger at him. ‘You lost that privilege years ago when you went to that harlot’s bed. That isn’t love. Going back to her when you promised you’d remain faithful isn’t love either. My mother and sister warned me about you. They said you would never remain faithful. Imagine my surprise when they knew you better than I did!’
He hadn’t moved. He was motionless in his chair, save for his heavy breathing. ‘Throw something.’
‘What?’
‘You know you want to. Throw something at me. Do what you must, but after you do I will have my say.’
He just didn’t understand. Olivia shook her head. ‘I have nothing left to give you, Gabriel. Not even my anger.’
It was as if her words had slapped him the way he reared his head back. He scrubbed his hand over his face and stood. Her husband did not want her. Couldn’t he spare what was left of her heart and just let her go?
* * *
Gabriel was losing her. He could hear it in her voice and see it in her eyes. Once she walked out of his room, she would remove him from her life forever. He could not let that happen. He loved her too much to live without her.
He needed to tell her everything. His blood ran cold and his palms were sweating, but he knew there was no other way. He only prayed it wasn’t too late.
‘I never slept with Madame LaGrange.’
She had turned towards the door, but at his words she froze. ‘Gabriel, please.’
‘Hear me out. Yesterday I received a note from her, indicating
