Page 114 of The Duke's Sinful Deal
“I was told—” The boy faltered, swallowing hard. “I was told no one would be here.”
Maxwell’s grip tightened—not enough to injure, but enough to make the point. “Who told you that?”
The boy hesitated. Fear warring with whatever loyalty he had been paid to maintain.
“I—I was given coin,” he said at last, the words coming quickly now. “Only to take her. That was all. I was not meant to stay. Only to bring her out quietly.”
Maxwell felt it before he understood it.
A sharp, hollow drop.
“Take who?”
The boy blinked at him, confusion cutting through the fear. “The lady,” he said. “Your wife.”
For a moment, nothing moved.
“Who sent you?” Maxwell asked again, quieter now.
“I do not know,” the boy said quickly, shaking his head. “A man met me. Cloaked. Said there would be more coin if I did as I was told. I swear I do not know his name.”
Maxwell studied him. Looked for hesitation. For deception.
Found none.
The fear was real.
Which meant?—
The implication settled all at once.
The past did not remain buried simply because one chose to leave it behind. There had always been the possibility it might return. That those who had once sought to settle old grievances would find another means of doing so.
But not through her.
Never through her.
Maxwell released the boy abruptly, though he did not step away entirely.
“You will remain here,” he said. “You will not attempt to leave.”
The boy nodded quickly, as though the instruction were a reprieve rather than a command.
Maxwell turned away.
His thoughts moved faster now—aligning, sharpening in a way they had not in the hours before.
Arabella.
She had left.
She would already be on her way to Eleanor’s. Perhaps she had arrived.
The realization struck cleanly.
He had let her go.
Not because he did not want her here—but because he had believed it was what she required. Because he had not allowed himself to say otherwise.
