Robert Matthew Carrick, Earl Sumner, clasped the knife tighter, the bite of the steel hilt sharp in his palm, knowing he had one chance to make this right. Knowing what he had to do. She stood, seeing what was to come. “Ewan—no!” Devil moved at his feet, rolling to his knees. Save her, Robert thought, willing his brother up. They would, wouldn’t they?
I figured this was what happened but it still kind of pisses me off. I mean he could have tried to tell them his plan.
