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Wasn’t that the reason behind her entire scheme?

To risk it all, to be brazen and brash and all in hopes of being happy. Even if just for a while.

And she was happy with Ian. Extremely happy.

A sharp sound, as if of an object shattering against the hard floor, jolted Helen from her thoughts. She jerked, her head turning to the side, searching for the source of the sound. It wasn’t in her room.

She took the towel and patted her face dry. Perhaps the servants were up and someone accidentally dropped a vase or a dish. Helen shrugged and was ready to continue getting ready for bed when another sound boomed from somewhere beyond her room. It was louder now. And it was definitely not the dish. Perhaps someone was in peril.

Helen picked up her skirts and dashed out of her room. In her haste, she almost ran into another figure moving past her chamber.

“Helen?” Olivia, wrapped in a dressing gown that gaped open at the neck revealing her naked skin, paused by her side. Her hair was mussed and her eyes wild. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know.”

Another sound, or rather a series of sounds, prompted them to turn away in unison and rush down the stairs.

Elkins, the viscount’s valet, stood on the landing below. As he heard their steps, he turned toward them, his hands outstretched, blocking the way.

“My lady, Madam, you have to go back to your rooms.”

“But what’s going on?” Olivia craned her neck, weaving this way and that to see what was happening in the dark corridor.

“’Tis none of your concern, my lady. Please, return to your chamber. I shall get you when it’s safe for you to come out.”

“This is my house!” Olivia insisted.

Taking advantage of the man’s preoccupation with Olivia, Helen slipped between him and the balustrade and stepped toward the dark corridor.

She couldn’t see much, but the sounds of objects connecting with flesh, of bodies thrown against the wall, and of men grunting in pain painted a clear picture.

But who was it fighting in the darkened hallway?

‘Tis none of your concern, the valet had said. Was it a couple of servants fighting over the affection of a maid?

That was the most terrible scenario that came to Helen’s mind. But the truth proved to be so much worse, because, in the next moment, Jarvis flew out of the shadows. He rolled against the floor and quickly jumped back to his feet.

Olivia ran toward him, escaping the valet’s clutches and crashing into her husband’s side. Helen stepped closer to them, her horrified gaze on the figure hiding in the shadows of the dark corridor.

The figure moved and soon, illuminated by the moonlight that filtered onto the staircase landing, she could clearly see the beloved features of the man she had entrusted her body to.

Ian.

And then she saw a weapon in his hand.

A weapon pointed at her.

* * *

It is over.

The little voice inside his head could only whisper the obvious. Because as accomplished a liar as he was, Ian could not find a way to lie himself out of this situation. He’d been caught exiting the viscount’s study after snooping around his desk, and now he was pointing a gun at Helen.

Christ!

The look in her eyes as she watched him was gutting. He was the first man she’d trusted since the death of her unfaithful husband, and now it turned out that he had betrayed her, too.

I am so sorry, my bonnie lass.