Denshire stood alone, his life shattered even more thoroughly than Kendra’s had been. This was what he deserved, what she and her allies had worked for. She drew a shaky breath. The sight was justice, but it wasn’t pleasure.

Wild-eyed, Denshire pulled a pocket pistol from his coat, cocking it in one angry gesture. “It’s time to end this!” he spat out.

CHAPTER 33

CHAPTER 33

Denshire’s pocket pistol was double barreled, and he raised it toward Kendra as he hissed a vile insult at her. Lucas’s Royal Navy battle instincts kicked in and he dived at Kendra, knocking her down and covering her with his own body.

BANG!!! A shot exploded numbingly near. Lucas felt a scorching impact across his left shoulder and the acrid scent of black powder filled the small theater.

BANG!!! The second shot was fired an instant later. Then there was paralyzed silence. Lucas rolled off Kendra. “Are you all right!” he asked urgently.

She blinked at him. “Slightly squashed, but otherwise well, I think. What about you? Did you just take a bullet for me?”

“I’m . . . not sure.” Something had hit him, but it didn’t seem like a proper bullet. He sat up and dragged off his coat. “The first bullet grazed my coat but didn’t hit me. But where did the second bullet go?”

He lurched to his feet and stared down from the stage onto Denshire’s blood-covered body. He must have put the second bullet into his own brain.

The audience had been enjoying the drama and titillation of the performance, and the shooting had shocked them badly. Voices rose as people began emerging from their paralysis. A grim-faced Ashton cut across the room to Denshire’s body.

By the time he arrived, Hollowell had thrown his coat over the shattered remains of his old friend. He looked as ill as Lucas felt. Death in battle was expected, but not in this civilized house surrounded by civilized people. But Denshire wasn’t civilized, and that had brought him to this end.

Kendra had pulled herself together, so he extended his hand and helped her to her feet. “Denshire shot the other bullet at himself,” Lucas said flatly.

“Is he . . . ?” She couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Yes.” He drew her shaking body into his arms. “You’re safe now. You’ve been exonerated and your reputation restored.”

“I wanted him out of my life,” she whispered. “But not . . . like this.” After a long silence, she said, “I was never madly in love with him, but I thought I loved him enough to go through life by his side. In the beginning, there were some good times.”

“I’m glad of that,” he said gently. “No one should be remembered only for their worst acts.”

She stepped away from him. “I must thank those who have helped me.”

“Of course.”