Page 77 of The Earl and His Lady

Thunder rumbled in the distance, the morning air heavy with the scent of rain.

“You little brats, come down!”

“You’ve frightened them,” Virginia said loudly, her voice desperate. She made each word tremble, forcing her limbs to do the same. Let him think her helpless and weak. “They won’t come down if they’re afraid. They’re little children.” Adding another dry sob for good measure, Virginia bent her knees, going limp in his hand.

Mr. Macon shook her. “Stand up, you—” He derided her in every way, but she kept her face turned away and sobbed.

“I’m hurt. I’ve turned my ankle.”

He shoved her away, against a tree. Good. Virginia leaned heavily against it, turning her eyes up to the castle in the trees. “You must go up and get them.” She sank down, making a show of her weakness. They had only been walking for a short time, but he was frenzied enough he might not stop to consider how such a short journey could do her in so terribly.

Fouling the air with his language, Mr. Macon pointed the pistol at her, the barrel nearly touching her nose. “If you move from this spot, I swear I will kill you.”

She didn’t even dare nod. “I understand,” she breathed. Was he a good shot? She couldn’t remember ever hearing. But once he discovered the boys were not hiding in their castle, would he leave her alive? She stood a better chance running from him, but she had to time it correctly. “There is a bridge connecting the towers,” she said quietly.

He raised the pistol and Virginia began to hope. If he climbed into the fort, she could run. He would catch her too easily if she ran up the hill. Would he pursue if she went around the edge of the lake? The ground was even, which gave her a clearer path to run, but it would be an easier shot for him.

The side of his pistol came down, crashing into the top of her head. The world went bright in a flash of pain, then dark again. She tasted bile in her mouth. Smelled the earth beneath her. Her cheek was pressed into the grit and grass beneath the trees.

She came to laying on the ground, watching his boots walk away from her. Dazed, but not unconscious, Virginia’s determination became fuzzy with fear.

She heard his boot hit the first rung of the wooden ladder, and the rain started falling against the leaves. It would mask the sound of her departure.

Pushing herself up with her hands, Virginia tried to pull her knees beneath her. Her head swam, the world spun, but she gritted her teeth.

If I can stand, I can walk. If I can walk, I can run.

Keeping her head down, she moved her hands to the side of the tree and used its strength to gain her feet. Then her eyes went to the hill. No. She had decided against the hill. Then where—?

A flash of brown and blue. Had Mr. Macon not gone up the ladder? Was he around that tree instead? But why?

A hand on the trunk of a tree opposite hers appeared, and then an arm and shoulder, and then she saw him. It wasn’t Mr. Macon. It was Lucas.

Lucas! She nearly shouted in her relief. Not caring how he arrived, or how he knew to come to her, Virginia took a step in his direction. He reached out to her, but her eyes stayed on his beautiful gray eyes, swirling with his worry. If she could reach his hand, she would be safe.

“I said not to move.” Mr. Macon’s voice came from above and she knew he must be on the bridge, looking down at her. She had precious seconds before he discovered her lie. Was he pointing his weapon at her? Did she risk the mad dash around the tree to Lucas?

Standing at his full height, Lucas stepped around the tree, arm raised and a revolver pointing upward. “Get behind me,” he said.

Virginia moved without looking, hurrying to do as he said, ignoring the way the world began to grow black around the edges. Lucas had come. Nothing else mattered.

“If it isn’t his lordship.”

“You raise your weapon and I will shoot you where you stand. You won’t get a shot off. Drop your revolver to the ground. Men are coming to secure you. Do it, Macon, and I’ll help you avoid the noose.”

Gerard Macon laughed, and it was a sound that sent chills running through her spine. “And go to prison?”

“Deportment. We’ll send you to the colonies. That’s a better life than prison.” Lucas kept his arm outstretched, his aim steady.

Virginia lifted her eyes to look up, to see what Mr. Macon would do. His face had gone white and he stood deathly still, his arm at his side. He appeared, for a fleeting moment, like Charles had. The brothers were similar in some physical ways, but she’d never thought them alike in character. Still, the resemblance smote her heart.

“Please, Gerard,” she said, her voice barely loud enough to be heard over the rain. “Charles loved you. Don’t throw your life away.”

“I think I already have.” When he uttered those words, Virginia’s heart dropped.

But he didn’t fire. He turned away and lifted his arm slowly, showing he would not shoot, then dropped it over the bridge’s rail and to the ground. It landed with a thump.

From around the tree one of the groomsmen appeared, startling Virginia, but he went directly to the revolver and picked it up. Another man appeared, and another. Did she hear horses coming too?