To Defend A Duke

Chapter 11

"Good morning," Juliet says, handing Evelyn her tea. The glowing light streams through the window and catches the golden streaks in her hair. 

"Thank you." Evelyn takes the tea gratefully. The steaming cup warms her hands and soothes her tired mind. Henrietta doesn't make a move as Juliet moves around the room tidying and putting away the mess that has been created. 

"Breakfast is in an hour." She reminds Evelyn as she starts to leave, a few dresses in her arms. 

"Is anyone up yet?" Evelyn asks the pistol weighing heavily on her mind. 

"Not at the moment, your aunt is still in bed and I doubt your brother will return to the land of the living anytime soon," Juliet replies with a small grin. 

Evelyn nods her thanks and as soon as the door shuts she jumps out of bed and changes into a pale green dress with cream corset. She throws on some slippers and wraps a cloak around her shoulders. She creeps past Henrietta's bed and hurries out of the room. She meets no one on the stairs and manages to sneak all the way to the front door with being intercepted. She quietly draws the door up until it is almost shut, and patters down the steps. The fresh morning sends a shiver down her spine and the icy air pinches at her cheeks. 

The carriage sits in the deserted street, right outside the house. It looks identical to the ones that follow the curve of the street. 

Evelyn checks that no one is watching from the windows of any surrounding house before she approaches the vehicle. She tries the door but it is locked, she puts her full weight on the handle but it doesn't budge. The chances are that someone will see her in the next few minutes and she won't get another chance today. 

She racks her brain. An idea appears in her mind. An idea that makes her bite her lip and curse her meddling before wrapping her right arm in her cloak.  She turns her head to the ground, to protect her eyes and forces her arm through the window. The glass shatters and spills onto the floor. The high pitch smash covers her gasp of pain. 

She reaches in, being careful of the shards still stuck in the frame and opens the door from the inside. She lies her coat on the glass covered floor so she can kneel on it and reach to the back of the leather seat. She tugs it away and fishes the pistol from in between the springs. Pistol in hand she picks up her coat in the other and gives it a shake. Tiny shards of glass fall onto the ground like a sparkling mist. 

She then wraps the weapon in her coat and shuts the carriage door. She turns on the spot to survey the area, luckily there is no bewildered face to be seen. She calmly walks back into the house. She shuts the door silently and gets as far as the stairs when a voice catches her. 

"Are you in need of anything miss?" Juliet says as she comes into view, her eyes drop to the balled up cloak. 

"I was going to go for a walk but even with this, it is too cold." Evelyn holds up the cloak in explanation. 

"It's a bit early for a walk," Juliet says confused. 

"That too, it's frightful outside," Evelyn says, taking a step back. "I think I'll go back to bed." 

She half nods and then turns and climbs up the stairs. She can feel Juliet befuddled eyes following her path up the stairs and she has to fight the urge to run. 

 As soon she feels that Juliet is no longer watching her she sprints up the stairs and dashes into her room. She breathes a sigh of relief when she collapses onto her bed. She leans against the window and unwraps her cloak. The pistol stares back at her. It has a heavy wooden grip and is over thirty centimetres long. She picks it up and holds it up, it weighs more than she expects and doesn't feel very well balanced in her hand. She runs her thumb over the engraving, V.B. With her rational mind now intact she questions whether taking the gun from the crime scene was the wisest decision, it is really none of her business. But by taking the gun it is now her business. The murder weapon falls heavily onto her bed and she glares at the vile thing. The criminal law book on her table seems to accuse her with its very presence.