She waited for him to say more, but when he didn’t, she softened her tone and said, “You can tell me. I will not judge you for whatever wrong you might have done in the past. We all have our own personal transgressions to atone for in some way or another. If my aunt has assisted you in that regard, then I can certainly see how you would feel this overwhelming loyalty toward her. But it is misplaced. There is nothing that anyone might have to do if it causes this much devastation and chaos. I was forced to leave London because she was driving this issue into the ground and I couldn’t bear it any longer. Do not let her browbeat you into doing something you do not want to do.”
“It’s too late for that,” he murmured.
Suddenly, the door was wrenched open and Lexie faced the barrel of a pistol held by a masked figure. She looked at the earl in outrage. “What is the meaning of this?” she demanded, as theassailant grabbed her arm and roughly pulled her out of the carriage.
Outside, she saw the driver and the Runner, who had joined them on the journey, held at gunpoint by two other riders.
Panicked, she pulled on her arm, but the captor’s grip was strong and unrelenting. “Release me!”
She was hoping that a firm tone would work to gain her freedom, but it didn’t faze the man. She looked over her shoulder at the earl, but he was careful to keep his focus fixed on the ground. As she was dragged toward the assailant’s horse, Lexie realized that if he tossed her over the saddle, her fate was sealed.
Praying that her actions would work, Lexie lifted her foot and brought it down hard on the man’s boot. She was afraid it wouldn’t be enough to distract him, but the slight grunt was enough for his hold to loosen enough where she could bring up her knee and jam it into his groin. He doubled over, and she didn’t waste her chance to grab the pistol that had fallen out of his grasp.
She spun around and aimed the barrel at the earl. “Leave us!”
He blinked in obvious astonishment—and then gunshots began to ring out.
“Run!” The Runner shouted at her over the sudden barrage of bullets zinging around them as a battle ensued from the rest of the men.
As Lord Lindley rushed toward her, she didn’t think twice as she pulled the trigger.
She didn’t wait for the smoke to clear as she tossed down the weapon and ran in the opposite direction. She lifted her skirts and rushed off into a section of nearby trees, hoping that she would soon be able to disappear.
She ran through the brambles that clawed at her skirts, and although there was still a bit of daylight left to guide her way, she knew it would be best if night fell. That way, it would make it harder for someone to follow her tracks.
At one point, she thought she could hear the sounds of pursuit behind her, but then her heavy breathing drowned out any further sounds. Her stays were suffocating, and she wondered if she might pass out from her exertions, but she couldn’t stop. Not yet. Not until she could be assured that she was free of danger.
Seeing signs of a village just beyond a clearing, Lexie dared to dart out into the open. She was alert for the sounds of hoofbeats, should her captors decide to make an unwanted appearance.
Her heart was nearly hammering out of her chest as she rushed to the first cottage that she came across and pounded urgently on the front door. Desperation clawed at her, but she refused to give in. Tears sprang to her eyes as the door was opened and she was greeted by a woman with a tidy bun and wearing an apron.
“What in God’s name?—?”
“Please. Help… me.” Lexie gasped, before she collapsed to the floor. The last thought she had as gentle hands reached out for her shoulders was that it was very possible that she had killed a man tonight.
CHAPTER 16
Dominic entered the morgue with Amos at his side. It hadn’t been difficult to gain entry at such a late hour once the undertaker’s palm had been greased with enough coin to placate his interrupted sleep. It had taken longer than he’d wanted to learn the name of the man in charge of caring for the local bodies until family had been notified of the deceased and burial arrangements could be made, but the trouble had been worth it. As he looked into the bloated, pasty face of the man who had been pulled from the river, he realized that this wasn’t some simple drunken accident. The large, gaping hole in his chest where a knife had once protruded was evidence enough that he had been murdered.
And Dominic had a good idea who was responsible.
He handed the undertaker another guinea. “Ensure that he is not laid to rest until I can discover his assailant.”
The man quickly pocketed the coin, but he looked somewhat confused. “Whot business does a man like ye ’ave wit’ a man like Alfie Davidson?”
Dominic took a step closer. “That is for me to know and you not to speak about to others. Do I make myself clear?”
The man’s face instantly paled and he nodded. “O’ course. Upon my word.”
“Good. You better make sure of it.”
As Dominic left the morgue, Amos started to chuckle as they entered the hired hackney.
“What?” Dominic asked darkly.
His companion shrugged. “Nothing. Merely that you are just as demanding as Avalon as you are as the Duke of Cuthbert.”
Dominic snorted. “What can I say? Old habits die hard. I was raised to ensure people listened to me. It’s only of late when I feel that I’ve lost some of that talent.”
