Page 79 of The Secret Life of a Lady
Killian’s heart leapt into his throat as he watched Hannah reach behind her, grabbing the back of Lord Cavendale’s neck in both hands. She bent forward, using her bottom to push him off balanceas she pulled his head down, over her shoulder. She bent further, gravity aiding her as he flipped over her back and slammed onto the dirt floor. She began tearing at her skirts, no doubt trying to find her weapon-filled pocket. Cavendale snagged her ankle, pulling hard. Hannah fell to the ground in a heap of bronze silk. Before he could crawl on top of her, she kicked out, her heeled slipper cutting a gash into Cavendale’s cheek. The man changed tactics. Instead of attacking her, he stood and scrambled back to Killian.
Killian felt the cold metal of a gun barrel pressed against his temple at the same time Hannah pulled her weapon free of her skirts, aiming it at Cavendale and cocking the pistol.
‘You might be an excellent shot, my dear, but I don’t think your chances are quite as good as mine at hitting the mark.’ Cavendale’s raspy laugh wasn’t nearly as chilling as watching the blood drain from Hannah’s face.
‘Do it, Hannah. Shoot him. He’ll kill us either way.’ Killian knew Cavendale would likely shoot him before Hannah’s bullet reached its target, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except saving her.
‘Drop the gun, Miss Simmons. Or I will shoot him.’
Hannah bit her lip. She looked from Killian to the mad man standing behind him. Killian knew the moment she gave up. A tear streaked down her cheek as she dropped her gun.
Realisation washed over Killian like sunlight emerging from a cloud. She loved him. In this moment, he wished she didn’t. He wished she would sacrifice him to save herself.
‘Full of surprises, aren’t you, Miss Simmons? I must say, your disguise as a dowdy wallflower was convincing. Kick the weapon out of the way.’
Hannah followed his orders. Cavendale moved quickly for a man of his advanced years. He kept his gun trained on Killian ashe drew closer to Hannah. ‘Women are far too delicate creatures for such violence, my dear.’
Killian’s stomach clenched, and he pulled harder on the ropes. Hannah spit into Cavendale’s face. Lord Cavendale slapped her hard across her cheek. The crack of his hand meeting her flesh echoed through Killian’s body. She careened across the floor, falling in a heap next to Alfred’s still form.
Roaring in rage, Killian struggled harder. The bindings cut deeper into his skin. Hot blood flowed from the lacerations on his wrists. The sticky fluid made the ropes slippery.
Lord Cavendale strode over to Hannah, kicking her hard in the side. She curled in on herself and whimpered.
‘Touch her again and I swear you will die screaming.’ Killian was reduced to empty threats and the whisper of madness as he continued to tug at the ropes, his wrist slipping more with each pull.
‘Exactly how will you manage that while tied to your chair? Doomed to watch her die, just as you watched my Patrick die. Useless. Impotent. Completely powerless. When I end your miserable life, it will be a mercy you don’t deserve.’ Lord Cavendale kicked Hannah again. She cried out, writhing on the floor, her arm crashing into Alfred’s dead body with a dull thump.
Lord Cavendale turned to Killian. ‘Alfred got himself involved in something much grander than his poor little mind could fathom. He was supposed to bring me that letter from the secret society he was so excited to join, but the idiot couldn’t find it. He was never very bright. Took after his mother, I’m afraid.’
Hannah turned her head and looked at Killian. In the dim light, her expression was shrouded, but he could see her hand reaching for Alfred.
Not for Alfred. For his gun. Wickedly smart woman!
‘Is the society involved in what happened to Sarah Bright? Weknow there are multiple victims. Who is behind this?’ Killian prayed he could keep the man talking. Every second Cavendale focused on Killian was another second Hannah could use.
Lord Cavendale laughed. A chilling sound in the dark room. ‘You know nothing about the society’s true motives, Lieutenant General. But never mind. I should thank you. You’ve given me the perfect solution to my problem.’
‘Exactly what problem is that?’ Killian kept his face impassive while he worked the ropes at his wrist.
Almost there…
‘Alfred, of course. He was becoming an embarrassing liability. But now…’ Cavendale’s gaze drifted to Hannah. ‘Alfred must have stumbled upon the two of you in a lover’s quarrel.’
Hannah froze as Cavendale knelt and brushed his hand over her cheek.
‘Stay away from her!’ Killian wrenched harder, ignoring the pain of rope tearing against his skin.
‘Dear Miss Simmons was hoping to blackmail you into marriage. While she’s certainly a lovely distraction, an illegitimate daughter grasping for a man so far out of her reach is no match for a duke.’ Cavendale’s gaze stayed locked on Hannah. ‘In your rage, you killed her.’ His hand drifted down to Hannah’s throat.
‘Get your hands off her, you filthy piece of shit!’ Killian screamed.
Cavendale’s fingers made indentations in her skin as he squeezed. Hannah tried to pull away, but Cavendale put the gun to her temple. ‘Ah-ah. Miss Simmons. Don’t move. Where was I? Oh, that’s right. Lieutenant General Killian kills you. But not before Alfred valiantly tries to save your life. He fails, of course.’ Cavendale tightened his grip. Hannah wheezed desperately. The insane lord kept talking. ‘But he mortally wounded you, Lieutenant General. And for his trouble, you shot him.’ Cavendaleglanced back at Killian. ‘I haven’t ever killed anyone. Well, besides Alfred just now. It’s fun, isn’t it?’ He returned his gaze to Hannah, dropping his gun to strangle her with both hands.
Killian wrenched his left arm free. He pulled Hannah’s dagger from his ankle holster. The sudden movement drew Cavendale’s attention. Realising the threat, he let go of Hannah, scrambling for his pistol and aiming at Killian.
Killian flung the blade through the air.
The gunshot exploded.
