He was Gabriel Rose in this moment, and that was a man who knew death very well. A man who would administer it with stealth and cunning and an exacting level of expertise that was the stuff of nightmares.

What needed to be done would be accomplished by his hand. This was something he alone must do. And once the earth was wiped clean of Bryan Flannigan, Gabriel would go about mending his Celia back together again.

“I will not require assistance,” Gabriel said, rising from the bench. Tossing a pouch full of coins on the table in front of Mister Talbert, he added ominously, “And if anyone should ever ask, you’ve never heard of Bryan Flannigan.”

CHAPTER 41

Celia pulled open the drawer of Gabriel’s desk.

She stared at the four-barrel pocket pistol for a long moment before she carefully picked it up. The silver on the inlaid handle gleamed with a dull glow, the wood on the stock polished and smooth beneath her fingertips.

Thank goodness for Tristan’s lessons. His instructions were a way of eliminating boredom while growing up on Darby Meadows more than any belief she should learn self-protection, but Celia had been a quick student. Once her brother showed her how to load and unload a firearm, how to mark the sight and steady her aim, it wasn’t long before she could hit near the center of the target almost every time.

“Good enough to possibly kill a man,” Tristan had cheerfully exclaimed of her skill.

That knowledge in handling the weapon would serve her well now.

With a deep breath, Celia quickly loaded the pistol and slipped it into her pocket. Closing the drawer of the desk, she leaned against the piece of furniture for a moment and considered how much time she had before Gabriel was expected back.

The mantle clock above the fireplace struck the hour of two. Gabriel would not be home until at least five that evening. He would then go about changing clothes for their evening planned with Sebastian and Ivy at the theatre, and Celia hoped she would be in their bedchamber, preparing for the evening as well.

A free woman at last.

“You can do this,” Celia whispered to herself. It was possible she could kill a man and then go blissfully on her way. To the theatre. To dinner. She could commit murder then laugh afterward with her friends and kiss her husband, knowing she had done what was necessary to protect herself and Gabriel.

She would do this, and along with the original secret, she would keep the two hidden forever.

Making her way to the stables, Celia could not ignore how heavy the pistol felt in the pocket of her cloak. How it rubbed against the banknotes she also carried. The money was an incentive. Her final attempt at convincing Bryan he must leave and never come back.

And if he refused…

Celia prayed he would not.