Page 99 of The Iron Earl
“The right sword?”
A scheming smile broached his lips. “Yes. And I, my love, have the sharpest sword in the world. Let me tell you about it.”
~~~
“I am here, by your side, ready to catch you.” Standing next to her, Lachlan leaned down, his words a reassuring whisper in her ear. “But I know you, Eva, and you aren’t going to need it.”
Evalyn forced a wobbly smile, her hands smoothing the front of her cerulean woolen dress as she stared at the ancient door that closed off Lachlan’s grandfather to the world. Lachlan’s confidence in her was possibly misplaced, but she appreciated his words nonetheless.
Her hands lifted to her right temple, fingering the line of her hair that was lifted far higher than she ever dared wear it. Her ragged scar was showing, open to the world.
Her stepfather had never wanted to see it. He’d always come after her if the slightest hint of it was showing.
But it was time for it to see the light of day.
Swallowing hard, she closed her eyes for a long moment to draw a deep breath into her lungs. She nodded.
Lachlan opened the door, sending the heavy wood creaking on its hinges.
The marquess sat by the fire talking, chuckling. Her stepfather sat opposite him, a tumbler of brandy lifting to his lips as he joined in with his own laugh.
The sound scratched down her spine, sending all her nerves to a cringe. Of course. Of course the monster had made friends with Lachlan’s grandfather. That was how he worked. Pander to the powerful, punish the weak.
At the sound of the hinges creaking closed, both men looked to the door and watched in silence as she and Lachlan walked to the center of the room.
“You.” The smile slid from her stepfather’s face. “Where’s my man—Molson?”
“Met with an unfortunate accident.” The edge of Lachlan’s mouth pulled back in a terse line as he skewered Falsted with a glare. “Slipped off the side of a bridge.”
Falsted’s upper lip snarled. “I’ll have you stripped of your title, Dunhaven. Sent to rot in Newgate.”
Lachlan shrugged, his look impenetrable granite. “You can try, though all the witnesses to his death will testify to the unfortunate stumble he took.”
Falsted sprang to his feet, storming toward Lachlan. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”
Steeling herself, Evalyn stepped in front of Lachlan, intercepting him. “On the contrary, stepfather. It appears as though it is you that doesn’t know who he’s dealing with.”
His feet skidding to a halt, her stepfather’s look dragged away from Lachlan and his face contorted as his morose grey eyes sliced into Evalyn. “What is this insolence? That divorce decree should arrive any day, child, and you will pay for your impudence once I drag you away from here.”
For the merest second, his threat struck to the heart of her, sending a tremble into her limbs. With a move so slight, Lachlan’s fingers gently pressed into the small of her back.
Strength.
All of his strength behind her. Strength that buoyed her. Centered her.
She focused her gaze on her stepfather’s pinched eyes. “Who is my father?”
“I’m your father, you impertinent child.”
She shook her head. “I am no child and I am no daughter of yours.”
“What?” His arm flew up, his hand whipping into the air and his fingers only missing her chin by the space of a feather.
She didn’t flinch.
“After all the years I raised you by myself after your mother died? Clothes, food, shelter. All that and this is what you bring to me?”
“It was kind of you.” Evalyn didn’t blink. “Now tell me who my father is.”