Then the Marquis drew aside his coat and pulled a pistol from his belt.
Shona gasped in disbelief.
“I am taking you back with me,” the Marquis snapped.
“Because one way or another, you are going to pay for the murder of my wife.”
Acton met his eyes defiantly.
“Go to the devil,” he said. “You cannot force me to leave. You have no power. No one in England will care about something that happened in France twelve years ago.”
“That may be true,” the Marquis replied quietly. “But I told you – one way or the other.”
He raised the pistol, aiming it straight at his enemy’s heart.
In that moment it all came back to Shona, Lionel’s mysterious words,
‘Perhaps he is going to do something terrible – I don’t know – I don’t think he knows either. He won’t know until the very last minute.’
This w
