Page 73 of The Defiant One
The woman had a pistol and she was pointing it straight at his heart.
"Hello, Andrew. I am sorry to inconvenience you, but if you would just hand over the aphrodisiac, we can all be on our way."
Inside the coach, both women gasped. On the boot, the footman reached for his blunderbuss but froze as Andrew caught his eye and shook his head in warning. And now Freckles was beginning to growl, the sound deep and ugly and getting louder by the moment.
Slowly Andrew's hand went for his pistol.
"Uh-uh," the woman purred, smiling and shaking her head as though scolding a child. "You don't want to do that. Someone might get hurt, and we wouldn't want it to be you. Or the ladies."
"Where's my brother?" Andrew demanded. He looked beyond the would-be thieves, his eyes narrowing. "What have you done to him?"
"Oh, well, it's past his bedtime, you know. I daresay he's taking a little nap." The woman's smile never wavered at Amy's cry of alarm, but her slanting eyes narrowed with deadly intent. "Now, hand over the potion, Andrew sweetie, or I'll put you into a much more permanent kind of sleep than I did your too-gallant-for-his-own-good brother."
Andrew tensed, his body screaming for action. It cost him everything he had to hold himself still as the four lackeys, also toting pistols, surrounded the coach, preventing escape.
His angry gaze clashed with the woman's. "And just who the devil are you?"
"Why, your killer, of course" — again, that malevolent smile — "unless you hand over the potion." She aimed the pistol dead center on his chest.
"Andrew, no heroics," snapped Celsie from within the coach. "If she wants the potion, let's just give it to her and send her on her way. It isn't worth anyone getting killed."
"Ah, leave it to a woman to show some sense," purred their attacker, in a faintly amused tone. "Now, obey your wife, Lord Andrew — or make her a widow. You have five more seconds to decide, or I will decide for you."
Celsie, one hand on Amy's arm to keep her from flying out of the coach to Charles's aid, the other restraining the growling Freckles, decided for both of them. She leaned out the window and met the hostile, slanting gaze. "Why, Eva. I thought it was you. For some reason, I should have known you didn't come all the way back to England just to congratulate us on our nuptials."
Andrew started. "Eva? You know this jezebel?"
"She's my cousin. Of course I know her. And so do you."
His gaze went from one to the other; suddenly he recognized their assailant, though she had disguised herself in peasant clothes and looked nothing like she had earlier at the church. "Why, you were with Somerfield at our wedding!"
"And trust me, she is more than capable of murder," said Celsie, in a hard, flat voice. She leaned out the window, fearlessly meeting the other woman's amused gaze. "Eva, since my husband here is showing a remarkable inability to make up his mind, I will take charge of this situation and bring the potion out to you myself."
"Celsie, stay in that coach!" Andrew roared, his voice harsh with fear.
But Celsie bade a near-frantic Amy to take hold of Freckles's collar, stepped around the whining Esmerelda, calmly pulled the bottle of aphrodisiac out from beneath the seat, and opening the door, jumped down from the coach. Head high, she walked around the vehicle and up to the other woman, fully aware that the thugs had their guns trained on her as surely as Eva had hers trained on Andrew.
"I wish you hadn't done this," Celsie said, unable to keep the disappointment from her voice. "I used to admire you. I used to look up to you. Why, Eva?"
"My country needs it," she said simply, looking away.
Celsie sighed. Then she set the bottle down in the dirt and stepped back. Eva, keeping her pistol on Andrew the whole time, sent one of her lackeys to fetch it, then motioned to someone behind her. From the direction of the stricken coach, another thug came forward, leading several saddled horses. Eva kept her pistol trained on Andrew as, one by one, the thieves mounted. Then, as they covered for her, she, too, mounted, tucked her prize in her saddlebags, and with a mocking little salute, wheeled her horse and set her heels to its sides.
Within moments they were gone, swallowed up by the night.
~~~~
They found Charles just getting to his feet, rubbing the back of his neck and swaying unsteadily.
"Damned witch blindsided me," he muttered, clinging to the door of the coach to support himself. He let go as Amy flew to him and insinuated herself under one arm to support him. "Never saw it coming . . ."
"She wanted the potion," snapped Andrew, quickly filling his brother in on their attacker's identity.
"Well, I hope to hell you gave it to her . . . Confounded stuff is proving to be more trouble than it's worth. Stick to flying machines from now on, would you?" He caught Amy's hands as they worriedly explored his face for signs of damage and, embarrassed, folded her to his chest. "Stop, sweetheart. I'm all right."
Though his words were gentle, Andrew saw that Charles's jaw was set, his pale blue eyes cold and quietly furious. Andrew couldn't even imagine how humiliated he must feel. "Well, there's no sense standing around here all night," he said affably, trying to take the focus of his embarrassed brother. "You still have that vial Charles?"
"Yes." Still a bit dazed, he fumbled inside his coat, extracted what was left of the aphrodisiac, and slapped it rather irritably into Andrew's palm. "Take it, and with my blessings."
