Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 107756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“You’re still alive, Evander? Exactly how many lives do you have?” he hollered as Evander tried to sit up. “I should end you right here, right now, and be done with this for good.”
“And then no one will let you off for murder,” Evander sneered.
“Then our war continues, little brother. But now, when I bring her before all the town and expose you to be a liar, who shall believe you?” He pulled tighter on Marcella’s hair. “I will tell them you sought to steal her from me. That this was all a wicked plot to ruin me, and they shall believe it!”
“Let go!” Marcella cried again.
“I said, shut up!” He nearly brought her to her knees as he pulled her to his horse. “Or would you rather be the reason your benefactors met such a horrid fate? You dare lie about me? Your husband—”
Once more, that sound, like the crack of a whip and thunder in the sky, echoed through the night. Evander covered me, throwing us back down onto the ground.
“Are you all right?” he asked, checking me over even though blood was upon his face, not mine. “Aphrodite, are you all right!”
“Yes,” I said quickly. “Are you?”
He nodded, but then where had the bullet landed? I sat up, worried Fitzwilliam had in his anger shot Marcella, but she sat on the ground in stunned silence and beside her was Fitzwilliam. Both of us confused, we rose to see a stunned Dr. Darrington standing at the door, not looking at us, but at the window. There stood the feeble Mr. Wildingham with a gun pointed directly at where Fitzwilliam had stood.
“What have you done?” Dr. Darrington was now running toward where the man bled upon the ground.
“Fitzwilliam?” Evander whispered, eyes wide, slowly walking forward. I grabbed him as he made his way to him.
I saw blood everywhere. Dr. Darrington knelt over him, seeking to save him, but even I knew such a thing was not possible. Fitzwilliam looked up at Evander, and Evander back down at him.
“Little…brother…why?” Fitzwilliam spat out with the last of his breath and blood.
Trembling, my hand covered my mouth.
34
Aphrodite
At the funeral of Mr. Fitzwilliam Topwells were six people—the clergyman, Datura, Evander, and me, along with two drivers, one for each of our carriages. No one else dared come. The town was overjoyed to see the villain I had exposed slain, and even more that it had been done by the father of the young heroine they thought lost but was now close to freedom in France. Verity had refused to come. Evander had sent word to his youngest brother, but he would not arrive back in time. The war between Evander and Fitzwilliam had come to an end the same way all wars did—in blood and death. And Evander did not celebrate. He did not smile. He had long sought to bring Fitzwilliam to justice but was not pleased, and I could finally understand why. Despite how much he hated the man and how much Fitzwilliam had wronged him, he was still Evander’s elder brother, a person also cursed by their father’s actions.
“What more of a price must I pay?” Datura whispered, looking truly low. It was the first I had ever seen her not in jewels or silks. Nor was her face covered in powders or hair styled with curls and wigs. She looked common and meager. She glanced at us tiredly. “Was seeking better for myself so wrong? From beginning to end, you have done all one could to remind me of my place in this world, and when I refused, you take my son? Who is the villain here? It is you. All of you.”
Evander inhaled once and then looked at her. I thought he would fight her on those remarks. But instead, he bowed his head once to her. “May God be with you during this difficult time.”
With that, he took my hand and led me to the carriage. He did not look at her again, and neither did I. Her cries and her sobs filled the air, and any sight of her would have been heartbreaking.
“Drive on,” Evander called out, gripping my hand tightly. I lifted it to my lips and kissed the back of his hand. “This was not how I wished it to end.”
“I know.”
“Your father was right. I ought to have settled things before marrying you, as I have only shown you the horrors of the world,” he said bitterly, shaking his head.
“You have not,” I replied. “I promise, you have not.”
“From now on, it shall be just you and me,” he said, gently placing his other hand upon my own. “Evander and Aphrodite.”
“Aphrodite and Evander,” I said with a smile to tease him, to get his mind off darker thoughts.
“Why would your name be first? That is not how tales go.”