“I don’t want to hurt the horse!”
An aggravated growl escaped him, and he stared at her in disbelief.“Give you the gun, you said!Isn’t that what you said?”
“I’m sorry,” she cried.“But what if I miss and hit the horse?”
“Fuck the horse, Fiona!”
She narrowed her eyes at that.“Well, that’s completely unnecessary, I think.”
Another shot, this one splintering the wooden backrest between them.Surprised, they both gawked down at it before looking at one another in shock.Close.Too close.
“I’ll take the reins.”
“Give me the gun.”
They said at the same time and put action to their words.The phaeton hardly wobbled a bit as Fiona dropped the flask and took the reins in both hands, slapping them down on the horses’ rumps with a loud cry of encouragement.
“Haw!”
Biting back another inappropriately timed grin, Aylesbury rotated in the seat and lifted his arm until his nemesis was in his sights.“Go to hell, old Crumpky!”
The shot rang out, garnering a terrified whinny from the horses but, more importantly, catching Crumpky in his chest.The force of the bullet spun him out of the saddle and sent him tumbling to the ground in a cloud of dust.
“Did you kill him?”Fiona asked, still watching the road before them.
Aylesbury watched the riderless horse rear, then trot away, shaking its mane.“Relax, the horse is fine.”
“Not the horse.Did you kill that man?”
“I doubt it.I caught him in the chest but on his right.He might survive.”
“That’s too bad.”
He grinned.“You are a bloodthirsty minx, aren’t you?Ah, Fates be damned.”
“What is it?”
“Ramsay is still behind us,” Aylesbury told her, taking the flask from where it had fallen in her lap and uncapping it to take a long swallow.Wincing, but drawing on it once more.Fiona was right.It was dreadful.“He’s a ways back, but I think he must have stopped to pick up that other fellow.I see two men.”
Relinquishing the reins when he reached for them and turning around for herself, she asked, “What should we do?And don’t tell me that we’re going back to the golf club.Even I can see there would be no help there.”
“I’m going to let you off.”
“What?No!”
Aylesbury nodded, setting his jaw.He’d be damned if he was going to see Fiona hurt by that bastard Ramsay.The matter should have been settled the moment they knew Ramsay was behind the kidnapping attempts.Settled firmly and permanently.The MacKintosh men, warrior Scots they were descended from, might not think he was a violent man—and perhaps he wasn’t in a normal situation—but Aylesbury would bury Ramsay in the ground before he ever had another chance to threaten the woman he loved again.
And he couldn’t do that with Fiona by his side.Where he would have to worry over her.Where she might be hurt in the crossfire.“I’m going to slow down around that next bend.The road to the club is not far from there.I want you to jump out and get your brothers.I’ll lead Ramsay off toward Dinton Grange.Get your brothers and have the club manager ring up the magistrate in Oxford.Do you got that?”
“I’m not getting out.”Fiona crossed her arms stubbornly.“No, I’m coming with you.”
“Obstinate wench,” he muttered, slowing the horses as he rounded the bend and spotted an area of high grasses.Turning, he grasped Fiona by the chin and pulled her toward him, kissing her hard.“I love you, Fiona, and I know I’m going to be bloody sorry for this later but...”
“But what?”Fiona hardly had a chance to squeak out before Aylesbury half stood and scooped her up in his arms as the phaeton slowed almost to a stop.Before she had time to latch on to him, Aylesbury swung her feet out from under her and sent her over the side of the carriage.He lowered her as far as he could but let her drop the last few feet.Fiona stumbled back and fell into the grass.
Before she had a chance to curse him soundly, Aylesbury whipped up the horses again and left her behind, hoping she would have the good sense not to chase after him.
* * *
