Page 136 of Winterset
As soon as I landed, I ran toward the back of the carriage, where Oliver was dismounting his horse. He ran toward me and caught me in his arms. He kissed my brow, my cheeks, my lips.
“Are you hurt?” He put a fraction of space between us and took in my tear-streaked face and the cloth tying my hands. Oliver cursed. “I’ll kill him.”
“No.” I glanced over my shoulder at the open carriage door. “Markham h-has his dueling pistols and means to make you suffer. Please, let’s go.”
But Oliver’s eyes suddenly tracked something over my shoulder.
I turned and saw Markham calmly alighting from the carriage, looking like he hadn’t a care in the world. A pistol dangled in each of his hands. “So good of you to finally join us, Mr. Jennings.”
Oliver stood in front of me like a shield, working to untie my hands. “I want you to run, Kate,” he whispered. “Run and hide in the woods.”
“Not without you.”
“I can’t defend either of us if I am worried for your safety. If you love me, you will run and hide, Kate.” He kissed my knuckles. “Please.”
“I do love you.”
“Then run. Go.Now!”
Terrified to be a distraction and endanger him even more, I ran as fast as my feet would carry me to the trees lining the side of the road and then a little farther to hide behind a fallen tree.
I watched from my vantage point as Markham approached Oliver.
“Shall we settle this like gentlemen, with a duel?” Oliver said to Markham.
Markham laughed. “I will tell you the same thing I told the late Mr. Lockwood: I am not going to fight you for what is rightfully already mine.” Markham aimed the pistol at Oliver. “Any last words, Jennings?”
No.No, no, no.
“You are a coward, Markham. A second-born son of a baron without any courage. You do not deserve the title you bear. Notruepeer of the realm would kill a man in cold blood.”
Markham seemed to consider this. “Perhaps you’re right,” he said. “Not about deserving my title, of course, but about killing you. Unfortunately, we don’t have our seconds or a doctor.”
“Does that frighten you?” Oliver challenged.
“Not at all, but it should scare you. I am an excellent shot. But if a duel is how you wish to die, I will not deny you. My driver will witnessthe duel so no foul play occurs.” He motioned the driver down from his perch.
The man took his place off to the side, and Markham shoved one of the pistols into Oliver’s chest. “Ten paces, turn, and fire.”
Oliver checked the gun, and then they stood back-to-back and began counting their paces.
“One!” they called.
My pulse pounded with panic. This was a trap; I did not know how, but Markham was not a man of honor, and he would not let Oliver win. He would shoot him and delight in watching him suffer as he had done before with my father.
“Two!”
For so long, I’d been afraid of Markham. But as I hid in the woods, I realized that my love for Oliver outweighed my fear of Markham. And in that moment, I knew that in order to truly live, I could not be afraid to die. Markham may know much about malice and murder, but he knew nothing about love and sacrifice.
“Three!”
Digging deep within myself, I found the courage to face my fears and sprang from my hiding spot.
“Four!”
I sprinted toward the stretch of road where the men were taking their steps.
“Five!”
