Page 96 of My Hellion, My Heart
She seethed as Crow prodded her forward, and glared at the vicar. “You are a man of the cloth. How can you do this?”
The vicar didn’t answer, but Max did. “Mr. Bolden and I have a…special relationship.”
Irina’s heart sank. Of course, they did.
“Come, my dove, let us begin.”
…
It didn’t take long for Thomson to find the young chambermaid who confessed that she and a stableboy had both spent the night in the quarters of a Lord Ivan Maxim. Nor did it take long to determine that Lord Maxim had leased a carriage and a pair of horses, which were to be left in Canterbury. A two-hour ride by coach. Shorter by horse.
With Lady La Valse’s help days before, when Henry had discreetly inquired about Max’s benefactors, Thomson had been able to track down the estates of Remisov’s many lovers. Two of them were located in Canterbury.
Henry was glad he and Françoise had never spoken when they’d spent time in bed. Too many confidences seemed to be shared in pillow talk, but he was grateful that Remisov had been so loose with his own tongue, otherwise finding Irina would have been like searching for a single grain in a hayfield.
Straddling the beast Needham had procured, he and Billings took off at a grueling pace, with Thomson in close pursuit. Thomson and his men would take the southern estate, and he and Billings would take the northernmost one. It had made the most sense to divide and conquer, though Henry desperately wanted to be the one to find Remisov.
As they came upon the estate, at first glance, the rambling old castle seemed to be abandoned, but Henry noticed fresh ruts in the dirt leading up the drive. He wanted to rush inside, but too many years of war made him prudent. Instructing Billings to approach from the front, he slipped around the back and entered a door he guessed would lead to the kitchens. The room was deserted.
He crept along the corridor to the main room, where he heard muffled voices and peeked around the archway. The sight of Irina standing in a white dress with Remisov’s arm firmly on her elbow nearly made all of his years of training tumble away. It took every sliver of his self-control to remain where he was and properly assess the situation. Other than a girl of about twelve and a vicar, no one else was with them. The giant Crow was nowhere in sight.
The hairs on the back of his neck rose just as the butt of a pistol tucked into his ribs. Crow smelled just as bad as he had on the packet boat. With nothing but sheer instinct taking over, Henry made a split-second decision. He fell to the ground, raising his pistol and firing upward to catch the giant right in the chest. The noise echoed like a blast into the hall. The young girl screamed and ran away as Crow collapsed into a motionless heap. Remisov, however, grabbed Irina by the arm, a pistol appearing like magic in his hand.
Discarding his pistol and stepping over Crow’s dead body, Henry walked forward, scanning Irina’s face and body to make sure she wasn’t hurt. He raised both hands to show that he was unarmed.
“Lord Langlevit, I have to say you are as persistent as a dumb ox.” Remisov gestured to the vicar. “Can’t you see we’re in the middle of a wedding?”
“The bride is already betrothed to me,” Henry said. “Let her go and we can settle this like men.”
Remisov laughed, his fingers tightening on Irina’s arm. “Do you think me stupid? I am aware of your skill.” He waved the gun. “No, you will remain where you are, and Mr. Bolden will complete the ceremony.”
Henry nodded to Billings who had entered the far end of the hall. “Now!”
But upon entry into the hall, Billings slipped on a bit of loose gravel, losing his balance and giving Remisov the chance to point his loaded pistol right at Henry. The terrified vicar took off at a clip.
“Max, don’t!” Irina screamed, but the bullet discharged from the gun in a black cloud.
For a blinding instant, Henry felt a stinging pain in his shoulder, but it was of no consequence. He leaped forward and tackled Remisov to the ground. His fists flew, pounding into the man’s torso and face, and only the sound of Irina’s voice made the furious haze clear.
“Stop, Henry, you’ll kill him.Please.”
Hewantedto kill him. But Henry stopped, breathing heavily and heaving backward as his beloved threw herself into his arms. “Did he hurt you?” he asked hoarsely.
“No.” Irina touched his arm. “You’re bleeding.”
Henry blinked at the hole in his jacket and the bullet wound beneath. His arm throbbed, but he smiled reassuringly at her. “It’s only a scratch.”
“Oh, Henry,” she cried. “I knew you’d find me.”
Remisov stirred, moaning, and Henry frowned, his intent to commit murder not truly gone. The younger man groaned as he lifted his hands to his face and watched them come away, wet with blood. “Bloody hell, Langlevit,” he wheezed. “Don’t you know that these looks are my currency?”
“Not where you are going,” Henry snarled. “If it were up to me, I’d send you to the devil, and trust me, he has little care for such vanity.”
He half-cocked his arm back, his murderous inclinations returning in force, but felt Irina’s gentle touch on his sleeve. “No, Henry. He’s not worth it.” Her voice lowered to a whisper so only he could hear. “Think of the demons you already fight. Don’t make him one more. Don’t let him destroy your soul.”
“After all I’ve done, my love, my soul is already lost.”
She shook her head. “Not to me, it isn’t.”
