Page 79 of A Lady's Lesson in Scandal
It smelled awful in the small space. Sweat, refuse, mould, and stale air. Poor Lucy was lying on her side, her hands tied behind her back, her ankles also wrapped in rough rope. Her clothes were dirty, her hair an oily matt of tangles. Tears created streaks of pale skin in an otherwise filthy face. It was hard to tell what the girl looked like beneath the dirt and ragged clothes.
The hunting shack only had one room. It was clear no one else was in the space waiting to pounce on Millie.
Bugger.
That meant whoever owned the horse was slinking around the forest.
Billy!
She needed to hurry. Save Lucy, find Billy before Franklin did, get the hell out of there.
Easy peasy, feeling queasy.
It wasn’t how the rhyme was supposed to go, but nonetheless.
Millie wasted no time, rushing over to Lucy and releasing a blade to cut through the ropes around the girl’s wrists and ankles.
As soon as Lucy’s hands were free, the girl ripped the gag from her mouth.
‘Thank you, thank you!’ she sobbed, helping Millie remove the ropes from her ankles. ‘We must hurry. He’ll be back. He heard something and left…’
‘Damn,’ Millie muttered, her fears for Billy mounting.
She helped Lucy to her feet, but the girl was too weak and almost fell. Millie caught her and didn’t hear the door creaking open.
A bullet slammed into the wall next to Millie’s head, wood splinters flying everywhere.
Without thought, Millie let go of Lucy and dropped to one knee, letting the blade in her hand fly.
The masked man at the door grunted, his pistol clattering to the ground.
Another loud report sounded outside. Someone was shooting from the forest at the front door, though Millie didn’t know if they were aiming for her or the masked Devil.
The man didn’t wait to find out. He let out a frustrated bellow and ran straight for Millie. She wrapped her arms around Lucy, protecting the girl with her body from whatever onslaught thebastard planned. But he bypassed them, leaping out the window and landing behind the shack.
He was running for his horse. The slimy weasel was trying to escape. But Millie couldn’t leave Lucy with an unknown shooter, and she still needed to find Billy to ensure the boy was safe before she chased after the masked monster.
‘Fuck!’ She stood, helping Lucy up again.
‘Y-you don’t speak like a lady.’ Lucy’s voice was rough, likely from screaming and lack of water.
‘No. She doesn’t,’ a deep voice growled.
Drake!
She kept her arm around Lucy as she turned to the front door. Drake’s great coat swirled around him. His broken brow rose in assessment. His hair, so light it was almost silver, glinted in a spear of sunlight. And his full lips, far too luscious for such a hard face, pressed together in a firm line.
The man is bloody beautiful.
He was sure to be livid, but Millie didn’t care. He was there. She wasn’t alone.
Straightening her shoulders, she tightened her grip on Lucy. ‘He’s wounded. I winged him with my blade. But we must find Billy before we go after the bastard.’
Drake’s mouth curled into a smile, transforming him from a hardened warrior into something even more stunning – the man she loved. ‘I found Billy. He has a nasty bump on his head, but otherwise, he’s well. Or will be after Mrs Hammond fusses over him for a few days.’
Relief almost felled her. But she held onto her composure with an iron grip. If she ever hoped to prove she and Drake could be partners, becoming a watering pot in her moment of triumph would not help.
‘Right. Well, then. We must pursue the masked man. He definitely wasn’t St George.’
