Page 58 of Lady Frederica and the Scot Who Would Not
Freddy clutched the pistol that Blythe had given her and Huntley had shown her how to use during several of their meetings. Blythe gripped one, as well. The half-rotted door they’d entered earlier screeched, and then a footstep thudded. Then another.
“Lady Frederica,” called a voice that chilled Freddy.
She held her breath. At five paces, Huntley would spring on Hawk. Her brother should be directly behind the man by then. He and Blythe had counted the number of paces it took to fully enter the orphanage from every possible entrance, and they had determined it was the best time for Huntley to attack.
Three. Four. Five.
Noise shattered the silence as Huntley lunged at Hawk. Amid grunts, and the smack of fists against flesh, something clattered to the ground, then slid, scraping across the stone floor and stopping somewhere in the dark. Huntley delivered a solid blow to Hawk’s chin, which sent the man reeling and thudding to the ground, which Freddy could just see through the shadows. Huntley came over Hawk, placing his foot on the man’s chest and pointing his pistol at him. “I’ll kill you, if you move.”
“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t try, Lord Huntley.”
Freddy stilled, having already started to rise at Hawk’s use of her brother’s name. How did he know who her brother was?
Beside her, Blythe stood all the way up and strode toward Hawk and Huntley. Just as Blythe bent down and delivered her own hit to Hawk’s nose, Freddy reached the trio. “That,” Blythe said, “is for betraying me, Georgette, and Gabe so long ago. And this—” the woman punched him again, this time in the eye “—is for killing Georgette and the babe.”
“I missed you, too, Blythe,” Hawk said, eerie amusement in his voice.
“Blythe, go fetch Beckford,” Huntley said. “Don’t get distracted.”
Blythe nodded. “You’re certain you’re good? I don’t like that he knew your name.”
“You always were a smart one, Blythe,” Hawk said.
“Shut up,” Huntley snarled. “Go, Blythe.”
“I won’t be but a moment,” Blythe assured them, turning and fleeing to fetch Gabe as they’d planned.
“Point your pistol at him, Freddy,” her brother urged gently.
Could he see how she trembled? Even still, she did as he’d said, her blood rushing in her ears. She glanced down at the man who’d taken Georgette from Gabe and who had wanted to take her, too.
Dark eyes sharpened on her, and a smile tugged up the corner of his lips. He was quite handsome aside from his crooked nose, which she knew was the result of a punch from Gabe years before.
“I’ve been watching Gabe teach you to defend yourself in the garden, Lady Frederica.”
The news made Freddy shake so much that she almost dropped the pistol.
“Stop talking,” Huntley growled and kicked out at Hawk.
In a blur, Hawk caught Huntley’s ankle and jerked so hard that Huntley flew backward, banging into Freddy as he fell and knocking her pistol out of her hands. It clanked to the ground out of her reach just as Huntley’s weapon hit the floor. Huntley rolled for it, but Hawk was faster. He kicked the weapon with one foot, then pivoted and kicked her brother square in the nose. Huntley groaned and blood gushed as he attempted to gain his knees.
An arm slid around Freddy’s neck from behind, and she screamed but did as Gabe had taught her. She brought her hands to the arm at the same moment she ducked and stepped back, twisting under her assailant’s hold and out of his reach. But when she came up, she stilled at the sight of her brother now kneeling with a pistol pointed to his head. Her gaze darted from her brother to Hawk to her assailant—Lord Brooke.
“You bloody bastard,” she said.
“I’ll show you just what a bastard I can be.” Lord Brooke took a step toward her, and she scuffled backward.
“Enough,” Hawk ordered. “Brooke get the weapon to your right. Lady Frederica, go to Lord Brooke, or I’ll end your brother’s life right now.” She didn’t hesitate. She walked to Lord Brooke, and when she was almost to him, Hawk said, “That’s far enough. Turn around.”
Her legs didn’t want to comply, but she forced herself to do as she’d been told and slowly turned toward Hawk. The room around her seemed to tilt, and through the rushing of her blood in her ears, she heard Hawk say, “Take her out, Brooke.” And then everything went dark.
Gabe rose from his seat opposite Carrington when his office door burst open and Blythe raced into the room. She flicked her gaze over Carrington and then speared Gabe with a smug look. “The wife you do not appreciate and I have lured Hawk out of hiding, and he’s awaiting your dealing with him at the old orphanage.”
The words took a moment to penetrate Gabe’s brain, but when they did, he jerked up and was moving toward the door, kicking a chair out of his way rather than waste a second to go around it.
Behind him, Blythe yelled out, “You can thank me later. And you better thank Freddy when you get there. It was her idea and—”
“Fall in behind me, Blythe, before I turn around and ring your bloody neck. I need details.”
