Page 57 of The Major's Mistake
For an instant, the leader’s jaw went slack with surprise, then he quickly recovered his wits, his eyes narrowing as they flicked from the marquess to Miranda to his underlings.
“My lor—” Miranda cut off her cry of surprise, sensing that any display of emotion might only serve to distract Julian.
Scofield and Gibbs fell back a step or two in confusion, but managed to catch sight of McTavish’s unspoken order and jerked their own weapons up to cover Julian.
The men around the fire sat in stunned silence, their expressions ranging from blank shock to disbelief to outright terror at the prospect of capture. Not one of them so much as twitched a muscle.
Julian started to advance, but stumbled slightly, giving McTavish just the opportunity he had been watching for. The leader whirled to his right, snatched the second pistol from Scofield’s belt and brought it to bear on Miranda in one rapid motion.
“Drop your barkers or I’ll kill her!”
“Will you, now?” replied the marquess in a calm voice. His lips curled in a grim smile. “In that case, I shall also be forced to pull the trigger.”
“And my men will drop you like a dog.”
Julian’s brow arched upward. “Really? The hue and cry over your present activities would be nothing compared to that for the murder of a peer of the realm. They would be hunted down like curs, no matter where they tried to flee. I wonder that they would stick their necks out in such a manner for a man already dead.”
He shifted one of his weapons to cover Scofield. “Besides, I’ll think I’ll take my chances. Their hands look rather shaky to me. Perhaps they are unused to aiming at people who can aim back.” His smile became more pronounced. “I assure you, after my years of fighting on the Peninsula, I have no lack of experience in such a thing. And my aim is accorded to be very good.”
Scofield swallowed hard. Indeed, his hand was trembling perceptibly and Gibbs appeared to be in no better shape. McTavish shot them both a look of contempt, then turned back to Julian. His face revealed a seething anger, just waiting to boilover as soon as he had figured out how to turn the situation back to his favor. But despite such emotion, there remained a glint of cunning in his narrowed eyes.
“The Peninsula?” he repeated with a shuffling of feet designed to distract the marquess’s attention. At the same time he sought to edge within arm’s reach of Miranda, seeing that if he could grab her to use as a shield, he would immediately regain the upper hand.
The hammer of Julian’s pistol came back with an audible click. “That’s quite far enough. One more movement of any kind and it is you, and not the lady, who will be meeting his Maker.”
“You wouldn’t dare. My men would kill both of you in an instant.” McTavish’s words came out in a rush of bravado, but an edge of uncertainty had crept into his voice.
Julian twitched another ghost of a smile. “You are welcome to test my nerve.”
The other man clenched his fist in frustration but he remained still. “You’ll not have her, not until I get my blunt. You make a move forward and I’ll kill her, I swear it.”
“Well then, it seems we have a stand off,” remarked the marquess after several moments of tense silence.
McTavish growled something unintelligible.
“There may, however, be a way to resolve it.”
A calculating look came to the leader’s face. “What do you mean?”
“Take me in exchange for the lady. I imagine you planned to send directions on how to deliver the ransom to my estate. My valet is not a fool. He will know how to handle the exchange.”
A gasp escaped Miranda’s lips. “You cannot mean?—”
Again, she swallowed her words on catching the pointed look Julian flashed her.
Someone around the fire emitted a low whistle, followed by several coughs as the men shifted uncomfortably in their places.It was clear that the idea of holding a peer of the realm hostage was even less palatable than that of snatching Miranda in the first place.
McTavish snarled a curse and sounds died away.
His tongue came out to run over his lower lip. “Take you instead?” An ugly grin began to spread over his face. “I expect the price would be considerably higher than it would be for a slut.”
Julian ‘s finer tightened on the trigger.
“But maybe I’ll just keep the both of you?—”
The marquess spoke softly yet his words slashed through the chill air with all the force of a saber. “What you will do is lower your pistol and allow my—Mrs. Ransford to join me here by the time I count to three, or you are a dead man. And don’t think of so much as a blink or the consequence will be the same.”
McTavish shot him a murderous look.
