Page 122 of Courting Scandal With The Duke
She had always thought it strange. Now…she wondered if it might have been deliberate.
Had he meant for Helmut to die that day?
She glanced around wildly. A gardener’s rake leaned against the wall.
It wasn’t much of a weapon, but there was nothing else.
A ball of anger sat in the middle of Xavier’s chest, hot and ready to explode.
Every word out of the Count’s mouth fed the furnace. The mask of affability was a complete lie. The man was as ruthless as they came. The thought of him having power over Barbara, turned anger to fury.
He forced himself to remain still, outwardly calm, ready to spring when the opportunity arose.
It would have to be when Barbara arrived in the room. Once he knew for certain that she had no wish to marry this man.
Somehow, he would have to get her away, but the odds were not good. He would be facing at least three or four men, including the Count. March he could discount. He was elderly and unfit. Unless he also was armed.
The curtain behind the Count moved. Not as if blown by the wind, but as if edged aside by someone looking in.
One of the grooms?
It hardly seemed likely.
Had Dirk decided to follow him? Xavier couldn’t think why he would.
The curtains parted. The bedraggled, bejewelled figure of Barbara dashed in and struck at the pistol with a stick.
Xavier leaped from his chair to tackle the Count who had risen with a curse. Xavier grabbed for the pistol, which went off with a loud bang.
Plaster sprayed down from the ceiling.
Barbara shrieked.
The Count cursed.
Xavier landed a punch flush on the other man’s jaw. He collapsed. The gun slid across the floor.
Barbara made a dive for it and stood up with it in her hand, flushed and triumphant.
Xavier stood looking down atthe Count, who was feeling his jaw and slowly coming to his senses. He groaned.
March burst into the room with Lady Wells.
‘What the devil is going on?’ March said. He looked at the Count on the floor and at Xavier and Barbara standing side by side. ‘Good God.’
‘The jig is up,’ Xavier said dryly. ‘It is my guess that Lady Barbara has no wish to wed the Count here and I intend to see that her wishes are observed.’
Barbara looked at him, her gaze misty. She blinked as if to clear her vision and dipped a curtsey. ‘Thank you, Your Grace.’
Her formality chilled him. Well, it was no more than he deserved.
He hauled the Count to his feet and thrust him into the nearest chair. ‘Sit there, until I decide what to do with you.’ He glared at March and Lady Wells. ‘You also.’
They sank down onto the nearest sofa.
Xavier took the pistol from Barbara. ‘Thank you,’ he said softly.
She met his gaze, her expression impossible to read. ‘Why are you here?’
