Page 70 of Wolfhaven

His hand closed around her throat. “Then I will make you,” he gritted out, and squeezed. Evaine choked.

Here beneath the ruins of the north wing it was dark, though it was barely past midday. A single shaft of light cut through the debris. It flicked across his face, casting his features into sharp relief. The Gareth she knew was gone. In his blue eyes there was nothing but cold anger.

“You accuse me of killing her. You don’t know a damned thing, Miss Ballard. Now get out of my house.”

Abruptly, he released her. She stumbled back, fell, and scrambled to her feet, choking for air.

“That’s right, Miss Ballard. Run. Get as far away from this place as fast as you can,” he called out in that unearthly low voice that didn’t sound like his.

Her feet flew.

She ran blindly—and crashed straight into another person.

Chapter 31

Evaine

“Where are ye goin’ so fast, missy?” Vernon Cogswell caught her by the arm. Propped on his other shoulder was an axe. Fear gripped her. She wrenched out of his grasp.

“Cogswell,” the duke called out. “I need a shovel. Go and fetch one. Miss Ballard was just leaving.”

“Is she now?” The groundskeeper eyed her. He set down his axe by burying it in the charred wood.

Startled, Evaine took off like a frightened rabbit. She darted into the main house and ran pell-mell through the gallery. In the foyer, the enormous crystal chandelier hung like a sword of Damocles. She fully expected it to crash down on her as she raced through, turned down the hall behind the stairs and into the kitchen.

Where Gran sat waiting with her pistol.

“You’re back,” she said mildly. “Where is the duke?”

“He isn’t coming.” Evaine gasped for breath. She could still feel his hands around her neck. Squeezing the life out of her. “We are to go on ahead.”

“But what about his belongings⁠—”

“Please, Gran, I’ll explain once we’re underway. Just go!”

They trundled out to where their laden cart sat waiting beneath the porte-cochere. The bay stood tethered nearby waiting to be harnessed.

A crash of lightning and sent the animal rearing. He bolted across the yard. Red rose petals scattered. Rain pelted the gravel.

“Oh, dear,” said Gran. “Are you sure we shouldn’t wait?”

“I am certain. Wait here.” She darted into the rain. Her red cloak had gone missing again. She had looked everywhere for it, but it was nowhere to be seen. She missed its warmth now.

The bay was long gone. She would have to make do with Cogswell’s old nag. She did not care if she were stealing his horse. All that mattered was getting away from this place. Now.

She shouldn’t have challenged Gareth at that exact moment. But now she had her answer. He had absolutely been capable of killing Marina. He had lied about events on the night of her death. If she hadn’t struck when she did, would she have ever gotten the truth out of him?

Or would she have been his next victim?

“Come on, you stubborn old thing,” she muttered. The nag fought her every step of the way, reluctant to leave her shelter and venture out into a storm. They had no choice. Evaine would rather sleep in a ditch by the side of the road than spend one more hour at Wolfhaven.

She got the reluctant animal into the traces, chucked Gareth’s pack out of the cart onto the stairs where it would stay out of the elements, and slapped the reins.

“Do you know how to drive a cart?” Gran asked.

“I’ll figure it out,” Evaine snapped.

Hazel clutched her wool shawl close to her chin. The wind blew, rattling the oak trees’ limbs like long ghostly fingers reaching for them.