Jack recognized Wardell’s guttural voice instantly. “The old fool survived the war,” he said.
“Disarm him,” Brandt whispered. “I’ll get my lasso ready.”
Jack leaned forward on his horse and aimed. Next to him, Brandt whirled his lasso in the air.
“You think you can catch me with that there lasso, boy? You don’t know who you’re dealing with. I’ll put a bullet in your head ’afore you can say Billy Yank.”
The bullet sped from the barrel of Jack’s Colt and hit its target, grazing Wardell’s shoulder and causing him to drop his rifle. He barely had time to react before Brandt’s lasso caught him around the waist and dragged him through the dust. Wardell screamed and writhed in the dirt, clutching his bleeding shoulder.
Brandt jumped off his horse and stood over him. “Need some help, Wardell?” he asked, stomping on the man’s shoulder with his boot.
Wardell’s shrieks stretched across the horizon as the blazing Texas sun broke through the darkness and turned the skyline red…
Jack bolted upright. The blood sky and the bloodied ground were gone. Wardell was gone. Texas was gone. Jack ran his hands over his expensive linen.
You’re home. In England. In your own bed. In your own house.
He inhaled and exhaled deeply, trying to calm his hammering heart. He dimly recalled waking up during the early morning hours after falling asleep on the settee in the parlor and hearing Mrs. Wilson going about her duties. He must have dragged himself up the stairs to bed—yes, he recalled having a conversation with the housekeeper—about what? He creased his brow. Then it struck him—Miss Hamilton. He’d instructed her to collect Miss Hamilton from Berkeley Square at noon. He reached for his evening jacket, which lay crumpled on the floor, fished out his pocket watch, and blinked its face into focus.Hell! That is now! Ottilie is on her way.
He sprang from the bed, pulled off his shirt, and stumbled to his washroom. The looking glass above the sink showed his face, still heavy with sleep. He plunged his head into a bowl of icy water, allowing the cold to jolt his brain and erase his grogginess. He smoothed his wet palms over his hair before cleaning his teeth and drying himself with a soft towel.
“Did you get a good night’s rest, partner?” Brandt appeared in the doorway.
“You’re still here?” Jack frowned. “Did I forget to tell you Lady Buntley requests your presence today? The doddering viscount will be at his club all afternoon. She’s probably been wondering where you are.”
Jack walked past Brandt as he exited the washroom, and his friend followed him to his chambers. “It don’t matter. I ain’t leaving you alone after last night. I’ll send word to her.”
“No need.” Jack retrieved a fresh shirt from his wardrobe and slipped it on. “I’m not going to be alone today.”
“You ain’t?”
“Miss Hamilton will be keeping me company. I’ve asked Mrs. Wilson to act as her chaperone.”
“Hudsyn’s cousin, again? What are you playing at? How does she fit into your plans to cuckold your uncle?”
“She has nothing to do with it. My agreement with Miss Hamilton has nothing whatsoever to do with romance.” Jack turned down the collar on his shirt. “She came here last week to ask me if I would be willing to give a lecture at her ladies’ college in Canterbury, and I told her I would if she agreed to do something for me.”
“What’s that?”
“I asked her to act as my muse.”
“Your muse?” Brandt folded his arms.
“Yes, she’s the inspiration for my new epic poem. I told you about it, didn’t I?” He selected a clean pair of trousers.
“Let me see if I have this straight. Hudsyn’s cousin is the inspiration for your new poem about a seduced virgin. Is that right?”
“Not merely a virgin—one of Artemis’s maidens…never mind. The point is Miss Hamilton inspired this poem, and I write better in her presence.”
“Dang it!” Brandt covered his face with both hands.
“It’s not what you think, Brandt. I vowed not to touch her.”
“Sakes alive! It gets worse by the second.” Brandt hooked his thumbs in his belt and looked up to the ceiling as if an explanation lay there.
“Don’t meddle in things you don’t understand, Brandt.”
“I understand you’re a dang fool.” Brandt squinted at Jack. “You’ve turned that girl into the buried treasure. Now, you ain’t goin’ to be able to stop yourself until she belongs to you.”
