“Here!” Susan stepped forward, then turned and held out a hand for cousin Emeline. When Evan set her gingerly to the ground, she immediately latched on to Susan’s arm. Susan smiled and squeezed back.
The horror was finally over.
At least, that’s what she thought until the now-familiar click of a pistol sounded from just behind her shoulder.Evan.With the barrel aimed straight at the magistrate’s cherubic face.
“You lying, traitorous, murdering—”
“Why, it’s Evan Bothwick,” Forrester interrupted smoothly, as if this were just another example of Evan’s typical erratic behavior. The magistrate gave a what-can-you-do shrug at the lawmen. “If you want to know about smuggling, I suppose there’s the one to ask.”
When Evan’s pistol didn’t waver, Susan realized he really meant to shoot Forrester right here and now—and didn’t give a damn if he consigned himself to prison in the process.
“Why not ask you instead?” she said loudly, striding toward the militia with the iron box on one hip and Lady Emeline still strong at her side. “You’re the one who’s been facilitating the transport of goods from the ship to the local merchants.”
Only a slight widening of the magistrate’s eyes gave away his fear. “Those are some strong accusations, Miss Stanton. I don’t know how High Society does things, but we small-town commoners don’t like to cast aspersions on a man without proof.”
Susan smiled. “Then you’ll be happy to know I brought plenty with me.”
Forrester’s dimples disappeared. With trepidation lining his features, he no longer looked angelic and self-assured. He looked guilty. And scared.
Good.
Susan handed both box and key to the closest constable, then walked back toward Evan.
His pistol was still trained at the magistrate’s head.
She crossed to him quickly and laid a worried palm on the hard muscle of his arm. He didn’t move.
“Put the pistol down,” she whispered urgently. “It’s over. Let the militia take him away.”
“I—I can’t,” he answered, his voice bleak. “He killed my brother.”
Susan swallowed her compassion. “I know.”
“He killedTimothy.”
“I know. But as horrible as that is, it can’t be reversed. Forrester’s going to hang.” She stared up at Evan beseechingly, but the dark light of vengeance was in his eyes. “You found the evidence that’s going to convict him. What else can we do?”
“Kill him,” Evan spat without hesitation, tightening his grip on the pistols. “He murdered mybrother.A pirate would take revenge.”
“Yes,” she agreed softly. “A pirate would.”
Chapter 50
It wasn’t until the last of the militia’s coaches rolled away that Susan realized her parents’ carriage was missing. She had no fob, but the sun’s cloudy presence indicated it was by no means nightfall. Yet the driver had left without so much as a fare-thee-well!
She scanned the remaining crowd. Ollie Hamilton and his erstwhile butler could have nothing to do with the carriage’s untimely departure. They’d been marched from the cellar to the back of a coach, which the Runner had promised was headed straight to the prison where the men would await trial.
Dinah Devonshire and Harriet Grey were the next most likely culprits. Miss Devonshire, however, was nowhere to be seen, and Miss Grey was even now plodding down the path toward the beach, as if the call of hems and stitches was far more fascinating than smugglers being arrested at Moonseed Manor.
A warm arm drew Susan into a possessive embrace. With her cheek pressed against Evan’s chest, Susan squeezed him tight. For the first time, her muscles began to let go of the tension they’d carried since her arrival.
He kissed the top of her head. “What are you looking for?”
“You,” she answered automatically, and smiled up at him.
He hugged her close, then placed her hand in the crook of his elbow so they wouldn’t make such a public spectacle of themselves. Susan was tempted to throw herself back in his arms and overwhelm him with kisses, the remains of her tattered reputation be damned.
“That’s all?” he asked, his eyes toward the sea.
