Geek Girls Don't Date Dukes (36 page)

sickening crack. The man stumbled backward, both

hands clapped to his now- broken chin. “And this is for

me.” Avery’s right fist shot outward, finding its mark in

Prachett’s soft belly.

The man doubled over with a cry and then collapsed

against the cupboard at the bedside.

Shaking out his stinging knuckles, Avery turned to

walk away. He was finished.

The mindless shriek of rage behind him was the only

warning Avery had. Ducking instinctively, he managed

to avoid the bullet as the shot rang out. Glass rained over

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him, glittering shards falling like spring rain onto the

blood- spotted carpet.

The sting of gunpowder burnt his nostrils as he raised

disbelieving eyes toward Prachett. The dueling pistol still

hung from the man’s fingers, smoke curling lazily from

the barrel.

“I said you’d die,” Prachett whispered, smiling with

his ruined mouth. He dropped the empty pistol and

reached upward into the halfway open drawer. The glint

of metal caught Avery’s eye as the man drew a matching

gun from the cabinet. “Now do it, worthless brat.”

Avery should have been filled with regret, with

sorrow for his actions that had brought him to this

untimely end. But as Prachett leveled the pistol at him,

all the valet could think of was her.

Leah. His angel.

She’d freed him of his torment after all.

Even as he turned to run, he knew it was futile. At

this range, the man would not miss twice. When the shot

rang out, Avery let himself fall forward.

“I love you,” he whispered into the floor. “Leah, I

love you.”

i

Leah stopped suddenly, causing Ella to plow into

her. She clutched at her chest, trying to steady the

ragged thumping of her heart. Something was wrong.

Something horrible had happened.

“Pawpaw,” she whispered, tears tracking down her

cheeks. “No.”

“Leah,” Ella said. “My phone is gone. It was here a

second ago.”

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“Did you drop it?” Leah tried very hard to concen-

trate, but her head was in a fog of distress. God, if it

wasn’t Pawpaw, what had happened? It was almost like

someone was breakdancing on her grave.

“No, I didn’t. My thumb drive’s gone too.” Ella

swayed, clutching her temples. “I’m sorry, but I feel so

freaking weird right now. I’m dizzy, kind of sick.”

“I am too.” Leah’s stomach dropped. A sudden thought

speared her, and she dug in her bag for the leather pouch

she’d brought with her. It was gone. But she’d placed it

in the bag only moments before they’d run from Lady

Chesterfield’s house, so where could it be?

Her fingers grazed over a glossy paper in the bottom

of the bag. She snagged it and brought Pawpaw’s picture

into the sunlight. It faded into nothingness in her hand,

as if it had never been there at all.

“Shit. Ella, what the hell is happening?” Leah tried

to keep hysterics out of her voice, but she wasn’t that

successful. Panic ruled her brain. “Everything we brought

with us from home is gone. What does it mean?”

“The mirror,” Ella whispered as she absently rubbed

at her pocket. “Something must have happened to it.”

They looked at each other for a split second, then

took off at a dead run for Granville House. Leah tried not

to think of what it all meant. She tried not to imagine the

worst. She tried to keep a level head as she and her friend

wound their way through streets crowded with horses,

carriages, and pedestrians.

She failed miserably.

People stared at them as they ran. Some shouted,

others cursed, but none stopped them, a fact for which

Leah was incredibly grateful. After all, two unescorted

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women running headlong in the nicest areas of London

was a sight that nobody was used to. Damn it, if only

Avery were with her! She could take all this shit if she

knew that he’d be there for her.

But he wasn’t. And he wouldn’t ever be again because

he thought she’d chosen the duke over him.

“Slow down,” Ella gasped behind her. “I can’t breathe.”

The ache in Leah’s side intensified, and she slackened

her pace to match her friend’s. The air burned in her lungs

as her slippers pounded against the cobbles. Ella’s too- large slippers, borrowed from Leah’s closet, as was the gown she

wore, caused her to stumble. Leah grabbed her friend’s

arm and the two rounded the corner to Grosvenor Square.

“There,” Leah panted, pointing. “That’s Granville

House. Third one on the right.”

The last few feet seemed interminable, but they finally

rounded the corner and descended the steps to the

servant’s area. Leah pounded on the door as Ella hung

over, trying to catch her breath.

“Cook! Mrs. Harper!” Leah’s hand stung with the blows

she landed on the door. “Please, somebody open up!”

Nobody came. Leah kept pounding, but eventually

Ella grabbed her arm. “Nobody’s answering.”

Leah shoved the door open and led Ella through the

empty kitchen. There were pots on the stove, bubbling

away. The whole place looked like it had been deserted

suddenly. What the hell was going on?

Leah shook her head and kept moving. They had

to get upstairs to the duke’s bedchamber and get to the

mirror. Either they had to get through it and back home

so she could say her good- byes to Pawpaw, or the thing

was broken and they were totally fucked.

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The house was unusually quiet for midday, and the

silence worried Leah. There should have been servants

everywhere, going about their normal daily duties. But

they’d wound their way through the back stairs, the

length of the hallway, and made it to the duke’s chambers

before they saw anyone.

“Leah, look.” Ella pointed.

Leah squinted down the main stairs. Smythe’s back

was to her, and he and two of the footmen were carrying

something large down the stairs. A rolled- up rug? She

shrugged.

“Quiet,” she told Ella. “Follow me.”

Leah pushed open the duke’s bedchamber door. She

clapped a hand over her mouth to cover her desperate

cry.

The mirror had been shattered, and most of the pieces

were missing.

She and Ella were stuck in 1817.

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Thirty

The mirror’s broken pieces clinked softly in the

sack across Avery’s back. Wincing, he pulled the stallion

up, forcing the beast to slow from a headlong gallop to

a walk. Even though he must hurry or risk capture, he

could not afford to damage the mirror further.

He’d never expected for the last hour to proceed as

it had.

When he’d landed on the Aubusson carpet of His

Grace’s bedchamber floor, he’d believed himself to be

dead. It had taken several heartbeats for him to realize

that he’d not been struck by the bullet.

“Russell.” The duke’s voice, tremulous but trium-

phant, wrenched Avery upright. His Grace stood by the

doorway, a smoking derringer in his hand. Prachett had

slumped to the floor, blood pooling out from the wound

in his skull.

Avery’s legs trembled as he pulled himself upright.

“Your Grace. Why?”

The duke dropped the gun and wiped his hands on

his waistcoat as if to remove the invisible blood from

their surface. His eyes, though aged, were clear and

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untroubled. “Did you think that I’d allow him to harm

you any further? Lad, you have borne too much for

too long.”

Avery took a deep, shaky breath and nodded. “My

apologies, Your Grace.”

“None are necessary. I only wish that I could have

stopped his evil before it progressed as far as it did.”

Gesturing to the corpse on the floor, Avery spoke.

“What are we to do now?”

“You must go.” His Grace pulled the bell rope. “After

the altercation at Jackford, they will suspect you first,

being a fighter yourself. I shall rid us of the body and

inform the other servants of the need for silence.”

Moved beyond words, Avery bowed. “Thank you,

Your Grace.” He tilted his head toward the shards of

glass behind him. “May I have the broken mirror? It is

very important.”

The duke laughed. “Have whatever you like, lad, but

be quick about it.”

Avery had gathered as many pieces of the mirror as he

could before stealing away on one of the duke’s horses.

He entered the outskirts of St. Giles with both relief

and trepidation. Such a fine horse would surely draw

attention in this part of the world, but he had no other

choice. If he were to have any chance of restoring Leah

to her true home, he must see Mrs. Comstock as soon

as possible.

The horse snorted as Avery pulled back on the reins.

He tossed them and a coin to a nearby lad with the

promise of more if the beast was still there upon his

return. Carrying the sack as gently as he would a newborn

babe, he ascended the stairs to his aunt’s chambers.

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“Mrs. Comstock?” His soft- voiced question floated

through the close room. “Are you about?”

The woman rose from his aunt’s bedside, a basin in

her hands and a cross expression on her face.

“What’ll you be wantin’? She’s no better if that’s the

word you’re after.”

“Mrs. Comstock, may I be plain?”

She nodded, setting the basin aside and drying her

hands on her apron. “I prefer it.”

Avery set the sack gently on the rough wooden table.

“I have need of your talents, Mrs. Comstock. Your

magical talents.”

The woman’s scowl deepened. “I’ve no more dealings

in the Old Ways.”

“It is of vital importance.” He’d beg if necessary. Leah

must be allowed to return home if it was her desire.

Mrs. Comstock sighed and gestured to the bag.

“Show me.”

When the pieces of the broken mirror were revealed,

her countenance darkened. “This is strong magic, this is.

Not only time magic, but love findin’ magic as well. A

true sorceress did this.”

“But can it be repaired?” The question was more of

a prayer.

She pursed her lips and shoved her straggly hair from

her forehead. “I will do me best.”

A wave of relief crested over him. “Thank you,

dear lady.”

“Do not thank me yet. I’ve no guarantee it can be

repaired, but I’ll do me best.”

i

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Leah and Ella took their time on the way back to Lady

Chesterfield’s. After all, they had no reason to rush anymore.

They’d be living the rest of their lives in this century.

Leah kept her mind blank. She could not afford to

think of Pawpaw or Avery or of the way she’d cost her

friend her future.
One
slipper
in
front
of
the
other. Don’t look
right or left. Don’t think of the fact that Avery is probably in
Scotland by now, and Pawpaw is probably…

She tripped and sprawled in a sobbing heap on the

walk in front of Lady Chesterfield’s house. Ella knelt

beside her, pulling her up into a sitting position. It

was several minutes before Leah could breathe enough

to speak.

“Come on. Let’s get inside.”

Ella nodded numbly, and together they made their

way into the house.

“Leah dear!” Lady Chesterfield’s voice floated down

the stairs. “Whatever has gone on? Muriel has been

frantic since you departed so hastily.” She drew up short

when she saw Ella.

“Lady Chesterfield.” Leah fought to keep her voice

steady despite the tears that wouldn’t quit. “This is Ella

Fowler. She came to take me home because my grand-

father is very sick. But…the mirror…” Leah stared at

the polished floor beneath her feet, struggling to regain

control of herself.

“Oh. Oh my dears.” Lady Chesterfield gathered them

both to her feathered bosom. Leah clung to her grate-

fully, despite the gray feathers that tickled her nose.

The baroness took them into the sitting room and

ordered a big pot of tea. Muriel brought it in and she and

Ella stepped into the hallway to talk in hushed voices.

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Leah stared down into the cup of tea she clasped in both