Evening Star (Star Quartet 1)

“Sir.”

Herbert flung breathlessly into the library, his face pale with fright, a wide-eyed Ellen at his heels.

“It is all right, Herbert,” Alex said. “Mrs. Saxton was merely testing the pistol. Leave us.”

Alex’s heart was pounding so loudly he thought he would choke. He forced himself to walk slowly to his desk, lean over, and examine the rent mahogany.

“Good shot,” he said. “Right in the middle. I suspect it is irreparable.” He looked back at Giana. She stopped staring at the pistol on the floor beside her and looked blankly up at him.

“It was already loaded,” she said.

He leaned back against hi

s desk and crossed his arms over his chest. He said quite pleasantly, “Would you like me to beat you here, or would you prefer we be more private?”

She looked up at him, her face as white as her collar. “Is that what a bullet does to a person?”

“Much messier, I assure you. There is a lot of blood, and a good deal of unpleasant screaming.”

She ran her tongue over her lips. She gazed again at the pistol, and physically recoiled from it. “Oh my God,” she whispered, and covered her face with her hands. “I didn’t know—”

“Didn’t know that you could have killed yourself? Killed me, or perhaps Herbert?”

He felt his control returning and managed to walk with a semblance of calm to where she sat on the floor. He leaned down and picked up the pistol. Carefully he opened the gun case and placed it back into its slot. He took his time relocking the case, and leisurely toyed with the keys. Finally, when he knew he had himself well under control again, he dropped to his knees and pulled Giana’s hands from her face. “Come, I’m taking you upstairs.”

She nodded, and tried to pull herself to her feet. But she was too clumsy. It suddenly struck her as insanely funny that even if she had managed to load a pistol that was already loaded, she would never have been able to get herself up off the floor. She let out a high-pitched laugh. “You would have found me sitting here playing with your gun,” she giggled. “I can’t get up, you see.” She laughed all the harder, her shoulders shaking.

“Giana.” Suddenly her laughter stilled, and tears filled her eyes.

Alex pulled her to her feet, and picked her up in his arms. “How can I beat you if you’re crying?” he said. “Stop it. You will not deny me your just punishment.”

She buried her face against his throat and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I don’t care what you do to me.”

“Well, I care,” he said. “You could have killed yourself quite easily. Besides, beating you will calm your nerves, and mine.”

When he set her down in their bedroom, she leaned weakly against him for several moments, then drew back, her eyes resting on his grim face.

“You will be careful of the baby, won’t you, Alex?”

“Yes. What the hell are you doing now?”

“I’m taking off my gown,” she said.

“Forget that for the moment. I’m too tired from exercising at the gym and other things.”

She looked at him for a long moment, then shrugged. “It appears I must find another way,” she said, more to herself than to him.

“I would appreciate it. I wouldn’t care to have my wife hung for murdering a scoundrel like Randall Bennett.”

Her eyes flew to his face. “How did—?”

“My dear girl, when I realized you would go out alone, regardless of my wishes, I hired a man to watch over you. I could not be certain your adventure with the strikers was as innocent as I believed. Flobb informed me this morning of your meeting with Mr. Bennett. Now, if you are quite through with your tears and laughter, I would appreciate hearing why you didn’t tell me about him.”

She sighed deeply. “You always contrive to make me feel like a fool.”

“It isn’t terribly difficult.”

Her eyes darkened. “Excellent,” he said, smiling. “I was afraid you had turned into a weak-kneed woman. Sit down, Giana. Your center of gravity has shifted, and I don’t want you to lose your balance.”