Page 78 of The Secret Life of a Lady
‘Alfred, are you there?’ Killian’s voice was a harsh rasp. It seemed odd to be calling for his captor, but he would rather face a threat than wait for it to sneak up behind him. At least Hannah wasn’t with him. She was out of danger. For the time being. His biggest worry about dying was no longer being able to protect Hannah. Killian would gladly sacrifice his life if it meant keeping her safe.
‘You seem to have gotten yourself into quite a pickle.’ Hannah’s voice was unmistakable in the quiet room.
No!
He twisted his neck and could make out the shimmer of her gown as she carefully walked closer. She kept her eyes roving the space behind him.
‘You must leave, Hannah. Now. He could come back any minute.’ Killian jerked on the ropes holding him hostage. He willed her to leave before Alfred’s return.
‘Then hold still so I can cut you free faster. I told you not to confront him alone. Insufferable man.’ Ignoring his entreaty, she hunkered down beside him. Her dagger was already out and ready. When she placed her hand on his ankle, the weapon strapped there dug into his skin. She pulled up his pant leg.
‘Hey! That’s my dagger. From the first night we met.’
‘I know. By all means, take it. There’s no time, Hannah. Go now. Please.’
She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘I will take it. Later. When you come to my room at midnight. Now hold still. I’m not leaving without you.’ She began cutting the rope holding his leg to the chair.
‘I rather think neither of you shall be leaving. More’s the pity.’ The deep voice echoing in the dark spaces didn’t belong to Alfred. But it was Alfred who came into the circle of light. His pistol was trained on Hannah.
‘Drop your knife, Miss Simmons. Now.’ Alfred’s voice was flat. He blinked rapidly, and his hand shook.
Killian strained his muscles, desperate to be free from his constraints. Desperate to protect Hannah. Desperate to do anything other than sit helplessly while someone threatened his love.
Not again. I cannot endure this again.
He would go mad. If he couldn’t get free and use his body toshield hers, he would lose his sanity right along with his useless life.
The heavy thunk of Hannah’s dagger hitting the floor reverberated through Killian like a thunderclap.
‘Leave her alone, Alfred. She has nothing to do with this.’ Killian had created some give in the rope with his struggles. He pulled harder.
‘That’s simply not true.’ The same voice from before echoed in the darkness.
Lord Cavendale stepped into the dim light and joined his son.
‘No!’ The raw pain shocked Killian.
Lord Cavendale smiled, a chilling expression that didn’t reach his eyes. The man had been nothing but kind to Killian. Blinded by his own grief and guilt, Killian had imagined Lord Cavendale to hold the same qualities as the father he lost. He had been so very wrong.
Lord Cavendale’s icy tone matched his glare. ‘Actually, a resounding yes, Lieutenant General. You are as wrong about this whore as you were about me. She is working for the Queen. Some kind of rogue detective, if my informants can be trusted… which I assure you, they can. And you, Lieutenant General, on a mission from the prime minister. My idiot son here seems to have gathered the notice of some very important people indeed.’
Alfred glanced at his father. His eye ticked. ‘I told you I caught him, Father. See? Everything is going to be fine.’
‘If you are involved, nothing ever seems to be fine. Dead maids, blackmail, and now this. Your failures are ever-increasing.’
Alfred ran a hand through his hair, tugging hard on the strands before smacking himself. ‘I already told you, the maid was an accident. The greedy cow must have drunk too much of the tea. She was only supposed to have a few sips, not the whole damn cup.’
‘You poisoned her?’ Killian asked.
‘No.’ Alfred shook his head. ‘No!It was just to make her sleep. To get her in the casket and across the channel. But I’ve handled it. Haven’t I?’ He turned to Lord Cavendale. ‘Haven’t I?’ Spittle flew from his mouth. ‘You think I can’t manage things, but I’ve sorted this. I caught the great Lieutenant General Robert Killian; does that not prove my worth?’ His eyes darted from Killian to Hannah, his gun wildly following his gaze. ‘And let’s not forget, Father, you aren’t so perfect yourself. Who missed his shot when we were on our picnic? A perfect opportunity, and you couldn’t hit either of them.’
Before Killian or Hannah could react, the older gentleman pulled his own weapon. ‘The only mistake I ever made was to sire you.’ He shot Alfred in the back of the head. Blood sprayed across the earthen floor as Alfred collapsed to the ground.
‘Fuck!’ Killian said right before Hannah muttered her own curse.
Lord Cavendale toed the body with his boot before exhaling heavily. ‘It’s a shame, really. Alfred was never very bright. Always a disappointment. Our hopes rested in Patrick, but… you know how that ended, Lieutenant General Killian. Don’t you?’ Lord Cavendale turned to face Killian. His eyes glittered with concentrated rage, and the same madness Killian had seen in Alfred moments before he smashed a gun into Killian’s temple.
Hannah’s hand disappeared into her skirt. Before she could pull out what was certainly her pistol, Lord Cavendale lunged forward, grabbed a handful of her hair, and yanked her close to him, spinning her so her back was pressed against his chest.
