Pausing, she heard the unmistakable sound of hoof beats coming toward them at a rather clipped pace.
Alister instantly shoved Lyra behind him, but she felt him relax when a familiar face came into view. “It’s about time you got here.”
Drayven came to an instant halt, even in the slush of the snow. His eyes flicked to Lyra before he turned his focus back on Alister. “I lost track of Richard in the village.” He nodded down the road. “I had a feeling he was headed to Weston Manor.”
“He’s after us.” He handed the chest over to Drayven, along with the loaded pistol and then brought Lyra forward. “Keep her safe.”
Drayven reached down a hand to help Lyra onto the horse but she ignored him and turned back to Alister with a mutinous expression. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”
His eyes glittered. “You don’t have a choice.”
About that time another dreaded pop came from the tree line. With a cry of alarm, Lyra found herself practically thrown over the saddle in front of the marquess. “Get her out of here!” Alister shouted, as he ran back into the shadows of the oaks.
“We can’t leave him!” Lyra cried.
“We have to,” Drayven said stoically.
When she would have struggled to free herself and go after the duke, Drayven held her fast. Kicking the flanks of his horse, they took off at a full gallop. As she was bounced around, she glanced back one last time, but Alister was nowhere to be seen.
Half an hour later, Lyra was forced to cool her heels in an abandoned cabin at the edge of town. Drayven sat in a chair with the pistol in his lap, facing the door and watching for any sign of trouble, while she kept checking the window for Alister and ranting about desertion.
“I still can’t believe you left him!”
Drayven glared at her. “And like I told you, I had no choice. He told me to protect you, so that’s what I did.”
“Then you should have disobeyed him! Or at the very least returned to help him. He doesn’t even know where we are!”
For a time he didn’t even bother to reply, just clenched his jaw and kept a vigilant watch. Finally, he said, “Albright knows the risks with field work. He’s been trained on how to protect himself and how to track. He’ll be fine.”
After dropping into a chair, Lyra whispered, “How can you be sure?”
“I can’t.” Lord Sussex shrugged. “But I don’t know any better agent.”
She stood and walked back to the window. “I hate this infernal waiting.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll have ample opportunity to tell him you love him.”
Lyra’s head instantly whipped around. “What are you talking about? I don’t…”
He lifted a dark brow. “I know enough about women to tell when cupid’s arrow has struck.”
“Don’t be absurd. The duke is just a friend—”
This time he dared to laugh. “Of course. And I’m the King of England.”
Lyra would have argued with him further, but the door abruptly burst open. Drayven was on his feet instantly, but lowered the pistol when Alister stumbled into the room.
“I think I lost him,” he gasped. He shut the door and leaned against it.
Lyra felt a rush of relief—until she noticed the blood. She rushed over to him to pull back his jacket to survey the damage. “Oh, my God! You’ve been shot!”
Alister glanced down at his shoulder. “It’s just a scratch…”
It was all he got out before he slid to the floor in an unconscious heap.
Alister awoke a short time later on a makeshift pallet with a pain like liquid fire shooting through his upper arm.
“You’re lucky that bullet passed through,” Drayven said from beside him, “or else you would be feeling that quite a bit more right about now.”
