Julius.It was true. Julius was her brother. “But… but why wait twenty years? It makes no sense.”
“I never ’ad a clean shot at ’em ’afore then. That’s why. Bloody bastard was too quick. Too quick for a toff. Should’a been dead years ago.”
Isabelle gasped.
He’d lost what little wits he’d ever possessed.
Geneva dare not pull her eyes from the glint of that blade. It was her attempt of willing him to drop it. She heaved in a deep breath as another horror hit her. “And… And the footman? You killed the footman.” The question didn’t require asking.
Without even trying his attention riveted on her. “Saw me, o’course. Now quit yer yappin—”
The revelations sliced through Geneva with the cut of the dagger he wielded, but there was also opportunity. “Run, Isabelle,” she screamed. “Run!”
It was just enough of a distraction the girl needed.
Papa swung back to her, his fist dealing a whopping blow to her cheek. Somehow, Geneva managed to stay on her feet.
It hurt and she saw stars. But as she’d blithely informed Docia, she’d grown up in one of the more challenging London neighborhoods and struck back, quick like, with a knee to his groin. Hard. He dropped like a pile of stones in the middle of a turbulent sea. She snatched up the nearest weapon at hand—the dropped knife—and raised it, aiming for the empty cavity of his chest.
She’d threatened him years before and had failed in following through. A mistake she wouldn’t make a second time.
“Set it down, Geneva. You’re safe now.”
“Noah?” she cried softly, sliding to the ground into a puddle of muck. “Isabelle…”
“She’s all right, Gen. She’s all right.”
Her eyes raised to see him brandishing a pistol pointed at her father. “Kill him,” she said, her voice trembling as bad as her hands. “He murdered your father and… and Docia’s”
Her father let out a choked cackle that raised bumps over her skin. “’e ain’t got the balls, gel.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Noah said. “On your feet, sir.”
“Fuck ye.” Her father was as belligerent as she could remember and remained where he was, on the ground. She’d known him too long to trust anything her father said or did. A person’s mien spoke volumes if one took pains to observe.
Geneva came to her feet, clutching the knife within her skirts, this time, staying carefully free of his reach. “Don’t trust him, Noah. He’s wily.”
Noah’s eyes never wavered from him, the weapon steady in his grip. “I suspect he’s been in the vicinity for years. Isn’t that so, Mr. Wimbley? Or shall I call you ‘Harlen’?” Noah asked. Papa’s lips clamped tight, but Noah didn’t let up. “It’s been nigh on a decade, I’d wager.”
Geneva stopped, her head taking on that incessant pounding that didn’t bode well. “Since Mama’s death. You left after she died. This is where you’ve been. All these years…”
“Your father has been insinuating himself in the community. Quite the regular at the tavern, aren’t you, Mr. Wimbley?”
Papa let out another one of those skin-tingling cackles that grated over her.
“But why kill me? Why go after Julius?” she whispered.
Sneering, he said, “Ye think Pender was the only fool who done yer mama? ’E was jes the last in a string o’ lovers she spread those legs for when I was at sea.” He laughed again. “She couldn’t hide her fancy notions. I found ’er letters. I ain’t no fool. She owed me for givin’ ye me name.” Quick as a bolt of lightning, his arm shot from behind, a glint of metal piercing her vision.
But Geneva had prepared for this moment since the day of her mother’s funeral when her father had dared come after her. The dagger flew from her fingers. “Noah,fall!” she screamed.
The blade struck the only man she’d ever known as her father in his thick, inked neck the same instant Noah’s pistol fired, the bullet hitting Papa where his heart should have been.
She slid back down in the dirt and covered her face with her hands, ears still ringing with the thundering gunfire.
The gun thudded to the ground and strong arms instantly engulfed her. “It will be all right, darling.” Noah’s growl whispered against her ear. “He can never hurt you again. Never.”
Geneva fell against his chest, needing nothing other than the steady beating of his heart to right her world. “I love you,” she whispered.
