Page 13 of Wickedly Yours
“She’s not your wife.” Malden spat out.
“Are you deaf?Get out.” Corbett reached up and pulled the fork out of his neck with a groan. He glared at Arabella and tossed the fork towards her place on the floor. “You’re going to pay for that, Arabella.”
Rowan stalked towards Corbett with intent, his face hard and determined. He flipped the pistol around and cracked the butt against Corbett’s nose. “Thatwas for my cousin.”
A horrible crunch sounded before a streak of crimson burst from his nose. Corbett shrieked, grabbing his nose with both hands as blood spurted between his fingers.
“Cousin?You’reJemma’s cousin?” He backed up a pace and grabbed a napkin off the table, his eyes narrowed. “How is the traitorous little tart?”
“I should shoot you where you stand.” Malden sounded nonchalant as if he were just considering what to order for dinner. “She’s not your wife.” He repeated.
“She will be shortly. We’re on our way to Gretna Green to make things legal. I didn’t kidnap her. She came of her own free will. She’s agreed to marry me.”
“Is that why her dress is torn? Because she’s agreed?” Malden barely looked at Arabella as he spoke, but she could sense the tiny bit of doubt that bled into his words.
“He’s insane.” Her voice trembled, knowing if he didn’t believe her Malden may well leave her to the mercy of Corbett. “He took me from the Dunbar coach and threatened my aunt. Kept me prisoner in that coach. Locked the door to this room. Attacked me over dinner. Does that sound like I’m here of my own free will?” She shivered and the torn arm of her dress fell over her shoulder.
Malden’s eyes shot back to her with startling intensity.
“She’s lying.” Corbett spat.
“I am so willing I stabbed him with the only weapon I had at my disposal,” She hissed. “A fork.” Arabella looked up at Malden.
Please believe me. Please.
A cry of rage escaped Corbett’s mouth at her words. He flung the bloody handkerchief at Malden’s face before he put his head down like an enraged bull and charged, taking Malden by surprise. The pistol fell to the floor and Malden managed to kick the weapon away. Corbett bellowed in frustration as he flung himself at Malden and attempted to grab the pistol.
A flash of silver fell out of Malden’s boot, spinning in an arc until it landed near Arabella.
A knife. She reached out, her fingers wrapping around the hilt before concealing the blade in her skirts.
A cry of triumph escaped Corbett. He stood, clutching the pistol in his hand.
Malden was on his knees before Corbett, his body taut. “Run, Arabella.” His voice was soft and low. “Run.”
Corbett shook his head and cocked the pistol. “If you leave, dearest, I promise to shoot your friend here.”
Arabella grabbed the knife tighter and shook her head. “No. You will not.”
“On second thought, I believe I’ll shoot him anyway. How delightful it will be to celebrate our marriage while Jemma is in mourning, her eyes red-rimmed with grief.” He looked down at Malden. “You really shouldn’t have come after Arabella. She’s not worth it, you know.” Corbett shot her a look of dislike.
“Do you really believe you can shoot me and walk out of here unscathed?” Malden sounded matter-of-fact. “The entire taproom saw me. I’m a lord. A baron who is heir to an earldom. I’m related by marriage to the Duke of Dunbar.” He shrugged. “Youare the son of a traitorous and little remembered former Governor of Bermuda. How is your father, by the way? I’ve heard he’s reduced to sitting in a chair with drool coming off his chin.”
“Shut. Up.” Corbett’s voice shook and his right eye twitched.
“I met your brother-in-law, Jennings. He doesn’t care for you. I doubt you’ll see another penny from him. Also, there is the problem ofherbrother.” Malden jerked his head in Arabella’s direction. “He may not want you dead for her sake, but he will for Jemma. Particularly if you shoot me.”
The pistol lowered a fraction. Beads of perspiration formed on Corbett’s upper lip.
Malden tensed, ready to spring.
Suddenly a grin split Corbett’s face. “A shame the pistol went off accidentally. Yes, that’s it.” He nodded his head slowly. “I thought you were an intruder. Or perhapsyouwere trying to kidnap my betrothed. In either case, my wife will not be able to give testimony against me as I plan on having her committed shortly after the wedding. She has fits. It’s all very neat.”
Arabella didn’t think, allowing her anger and fear to guide her. She gripped the knife and flew at Corbett, aiming for the small marks left in his neck from the fork. The knife sank into his flesh much more smoothly than the fork, spraying Arabella with a fine mist of blood. She stumbled back as Corbett reached for her.
“You bitch.” He reached up, his free hand struggling to grab the hilt of the knife. As he did so, the pistol fired. The shot of the pistol went wide and swung Corbett’s body back against the edge of the table, spraying the room with mutton, blood and crashing dishes. His foot slipped on one plate of greasy mutton and his arms began to flail as he fell backwards against the window. The sound of shattering glass met her ears, then Corbett disappeared from sight.
“Arabella!”
