Anna flew toward her husband as he hit the ground hard. The others tackled Lady Scott, but she had no time to see what became of her former mentor when her husband had been obviously attacked.

She found Gilbert’s handkerchief even as she sought the location of an injury. “You’re all right,” she told him.

Gilbert had his hand pressed to his side and she replaced his hand with the handkerchief and pushed firmly upon the wound.

She shifted to cradle Gilbert’s head on her lap as the sounds of struggle rose beyond them. Gilbert might have predicted someone would be hurt tonight, but she wouldn’t lose him. She couldn’t bear the idea. “Don’t you dare not be all right!” Anna whispered.

Gilbert struggled to lift his head, and Anna looked too when she realized silence had fallen in the room.

The Bow Street Runners moved back. Carmichael and Lord Wade were sprawled on either side of Lady Scott, who was lying flat on the floor. The lady was struggling for breath, and the short blade she’d attacked Gilbert with protruded from her chest. It was impossible to know which man had stabbed Lady Scott.

Her mentor, the woman she’d sought to make proud, had killed her closest friends. She had no words to express her shock and outrage.

“You could have done so much better, Anna,” Lady Scott gasped, and then reached for Carmichael’s hand. “It was all for you, my dear.”

Carmichael knocked her hand aside roughly. “Get away from me!”

Portia edged closer, standing near Lord Wade, wringing her hands. “Are you all right?” she asked.

“Yes,” Wade replied, turning away from Lady Scott.

The pair drew closer together and it seemed they touched, but Anna couldn’t be sure from this angle. “You’re not going to faint, are you?”

“I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

“Never,” she said, grinning at him.

Anna turned back to Lady Scott as she continued talking.

“When I heard you talk of the women you were courting, I couldn’t let you make the same mistake your father made. They’d never have made you proud. I saved you from making a terrible mistake.”

“The only mistake I ever made was listening to your advice about the dangers of marrying too young,” Carmichael told her. “The title will become extinct when I die, thanks to you.”

“I won’t allow…” Lady Scott’s breathing became ragged. She made one more sound, and then fell utterly silent all of a sudden. When Anna looked closely, she noticed her eyes were open, staring at Carmichael, but her chest did not rise and fall anymore.

She had drawn her last breath, still convinced her way had been the right one.

Carmichael closed her eyes and then collapsed onto his back with a groan.

Davis checked Lady Scott’s wrist for a pulse. After a moment, he stood and brushed himself off. “She’s dead. It’s over.”

Gilbert rested his head back on Anna’s lap and lifted a bloody hand toward her. “It is over, beautiful. Never again. I promise.”

“Thank heavens for that.” Anna caught his hand and bent over her husband to kiss his lips. “How badly are you hurt?”

“Not as badly as I first feared, but it stings like the very devil now.”

“Fetch a doctor, Wade,” she begged of her friend.

“At once,” Lord Wade replied. “Portia?”

Portia ran to him and together they hurried from the room.

Anna sagged and brushed his hair back from his brow. “I love you,” she whispered against his lips before kissing him.

He was smiling when she drew back. “You do?”

“I do,” she promised. She removed the cloth she’d wadded over the wound and noticed very little blood had flowed from it. “I was afraid she’d truly hurt you. The blade seemed so bright.”

“And sharp, but it’s a shallow wound I think.” He peered at the wound, too. “I’ll still need a doctor though. Carmichael?”

“You’ll need to find her maid and question her,” Carmichael suggested in a quiet voice. “The woman has been cleaning blood from her mistress’ clothing for two years at least that we know of. She’ll know when it started and why. I’m going to let Bow Street handle the rest.”

Gilbert rolled off her lap toward Carmichael, groaning in pain. “You knew it was her before tonight?”

“That day with Mrs. Lenthall. She came out the same year as Lady Scott.” Carmichael groaned. “I remember wondering why she’d never once mentioned those murders.”

Her husband suddenly dragged himself across the floor toward Carmichael and wrenched Carmichael’s hand away from his stomach. “Damn it, why did you not say you were injured?”

Anna crawled to Carmichael. “Price!”

“She was quicker and stronger than I ever imagined,” Carmichael complained. He looked down at his stomach. “It’s all right, Anna. It doesn’t hurt so much now.”

“You’re bleeding, you idiot.” She found a clean handkerchief in her friend’s coat pocket and pressed it to the wound. Carmichael groaned piteously. She cast a worried glance at her husband, who was holding his side again. “You lie down again. Help is coming.”

“Little Miss Perfect needs to work on her bedside manner,” Carmichael complained.

“That’s Lady Perfect to you,” Anna told Carmichael primly, then noticed how his blood was already soaking through the handkerchief and wetting her fingers. “He really needs that doctor.”

The doors burst open and a man hurried to join them, urging Anna to relinquish her position over Carmichael’s wound. She moved to hold his head, determined to be any comfort she could be. “You can’t die. You said we would be friends now.”

“I’ll try not to disappoint you by dying then.” Carmichael reached for her hand. Anna held his cold fingers as his wound was examined, probed and ultimately pronounced safe to be bound. Thankfully Carmichael fainted when the pain grew too great.

When he’d been bandaged enough, the gentlemen lifted him up.

“Where are you taking him?”

“Home to recover,” one said.

“But there is no one at his home to look after him properly. Not even a decent chef.” She glanced back to her husband, who was bandaged too but on his feet now. “He can come home with us, can’t he?”

Carmichael had almost been living at Gilbert’s home before their marriage anyway, she’d learned. She would much rather know where Carmichael was than run back and forth between their houses making sure he would be all right.

Gilbert nodded. “We’ll look after him, but I need to stay and tie up any loose ends.”

“But you’re hurt too,” she protested.

“Just a scratch,” he promised, revealing his newly bandaged side was free of bloodstain.

He did seem to be moving freely so she hoped agreeing wouldn’t be a mistake. “Very well.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him and deliver your husband home to you safe and sound, my lady,” Lord Wade promised her as he returned to the room with his aunt on his arm.

“Where is Portia?”

His smile grew tense. “Where she’s always wanted to be.”

Mrs. Lenthall came to stand over Lady Scott’s body. “No surprise here. Never did like each other.”

“She nearly fooled us all,” Gilbert confessed.

“You got there in the end,” Mrs. Lenthall offered graciously. “Carmichael will need you both more than ever after this betrayal. Don’t let him dwell too much.”

“He will always have our support and my father’s.”

Lady Scott’s face was covered to await the decision of what to do with her body. Anna didn’t care where she was buried. The woman had harmed her husband, killed her friends, and destroyed her godson’s happiness. That could not be forgiven. She was glad the nightmare was over.

Gilbert came closer, his expression serious.

She lifted up on her toes and kissed his lips to wipe the expression away. “How long will you be?”

“A few hours, I suspect. As Carmichael suggested, her maid and all her household staff must be questioned. Her home searched for further evidence, too, although we have witnesses and those blades she carried as evidence.”

“I’ll be waiting for you at home then,” she promised.

“Good. Anna, before you go, I have one more thing to say to you.”

“What is it?”

He caressed her cheek. “I love you so much.”

Anna kissed her husband deeply, blushing even as she did so. And then she kissed him again because she could. There was no reason to stop. They were married and in love with each other. “I think I fell for you the first night we kissed. So romantic.” She met his gaze boldly. She would have done anything he’d wanted that night. “Hurry home so I can kiss you some more.”

“Nothing will keep me from you ever again,” he promised, and she believed he meant it, too.