‘Have it your way.’ Hannah pulled the pistol from her skirt and fired it, aiming low. The loud report echoed in the night. A puff of smoke erupted, filling her nose with the acrid scent of gunpowder.
The man spasmed and shrieked before collapsing in a bloody heap. The bruiser directly behind him swore loudly.
‘Really, gentlemen. There’s no need for such language.’ Hannah quickly tucked her gun away in her skirts and retrieved her dagger from her pocket.
It was a shame there was no easy place for a woman to hide a sword. Using a short blade required drawing the enemy in for close combat. These men smelled foul from a distance. She doubted their scent would improve with proximity.
Hannah flicked her gaze to the fallen man before eyeing the remaining four in front of her. ‘Your fearless leader seems to have taken a turn for the worse. Might I invite you to dissipate, or doyou need further encouragement?’ She wielded the dagger and flashed her teeth in a vicious smile.
‘Caw blimey, she killed ’im.’ The bruiser edged forward and nudged his leader with a scuffed boot.
The leader, who was now bleeding into the street, groaned.
Hannah cocked her head to get a better look. Her bullet had found its mark, right between his legs. ‘Doubtful. I hit nothing vital. As long as he doesn’t bleed out, and there’s no infection, he’ll likely recover. Shall we bid each other good night?’ Hannah kept her voice calm.
‘I rather think you gentlemen should take her advice.’ The gravelled voice behind her sent shivers of recognition through Hannah’s system.
The Duke of Covington.
‘Blast and bother,’ she muttered.
What on earth was he doing in Bethnal Green? And why was he following her? Had she known it was him, she would have handled the five idiots in front of her differently. She certainly wouldn’t have displayed her skills so boldly. This was exactly what she wanted to avoid. A ripple of irritation washed over her. What was it about him that had her constantly making mistakes?
She should let the Lieutenant General take the lead. Fall back and be the damsel in distress. But everything in her recoiled at the thought. Hopefully, he would stay out of her way. Knowing men, it wasn’t likely. Hannah exhaled loudly.
The murky light afforded by the moon illuminated the remaining men. Bruiser One and Bruiser Two had the broad shoulders and lean build of actual fighters. Fat Man was more mass than muscle, and Skinny Man was thin enough to make Hannah wince.
Bruiser One strode forward. ‘I reckon we can take this piece of skirt and her poncy friend, eh boys?’
Hannah registered the singular sound of metal scraping free from leather. Lord Killian had drawn his sword. Awfully kind of him, even if his chivalry was unnecessary.
‘Stay back, Miss Simmons. I will protect you.’
Hannah stifled a laugh. She didn’t take orders from anyone. Except Philippa, of course. And the Queen.
With a grunt of command from the new leader, the would-be assailants surged forward. Hannah sighed. Men could be so predictably stupid.
Instead of retreating as she should have done, Hannah attacked. Bruiser One had no time to react. She rushed forward, swiping low with her blade, slashing across his thigh, severing muscle and tendon. She spun and sliced again where his arm met his body. He bellowed like a wounded bull and landed hard on the dirty cobbles, his leg and arm rendered useless.
She glanced at the duke, but instead of fighting, he was staring at her, his mouth parted, eyes wide.
‘Where did you learn to fight like that?’ His rough voice made her shiver. Something inside of her unfurled like a flower in sunlight.
Dear God, am I preening in front of him? Stop it this instant!
But she couldn’t help herself. Hannah shrugged. ‘Oh, you know. Here and there.’ She listened to the footsteps of Bruiser Two as he circled to her left but kept her gaze on Lord Killian. ‘Behind you.’
The duke spun around and used the hilt of his sword as a cudgel, crashing it against Fat Man’s temple. Fat Man fell onto the wet street with a massive slap of flesh against stone.
Hannah turned her attention to Bruiser Two. With a flick of her wrist, her throwing knife rested in her palm. She flung it before he could lunge forward. It lodged neatly in his left eye.Bruiser Two screamed in horror. He fell to the dirty cobblestones, clawing at the metal.
Skinny Man looked at his fallen comrade then back to her.
‘Bloody ’ell.’ He took a halting step backward.
‘I did warn you.’ Hannah held the dagger in front of her and smiled again, brushing a stray curl from her eyes with her free hand.
The idiot lowered his head and charged like a bull. Hannah held still until he was almost upon her. Lord Killian shouted a warning just as she crouched low. Skinny Man’s knees crashed into her shoulder. She pushed up. Using his momentum and her strength, she toppled the bastard over. He landed flat on his back with an explosion of air. Hannah leapt on him, her dagger to his throat.
