Page 113 of Lord of Fortune
Then everything happened very quickly. So quickly that Penn barely had time to react.
Amelia turned and brought her knee up into Forrest’s groin. She grabbed his right arm and squeezed. Forrest screamed in pain and dropped the pistol. It clacked against the rock and bounced over the waterfall.
Free of him, Amelia took a step backward. That was the moment Penn dashed down the rock face, nearly slipping over the falls himself.
“You bitch.” Thaddeus sneered as he lunged forward. Amelia danced backward, evading his grasp.
Thaddeus grabbed air and realized his mistake. He’d overextended himself, and he pitched forward, falling onto the slick rock. He tried to find purchase but slipped to the edge. “Help me!” he cried, as his legs swung out over the fall, dangling in the air. He grabbed at the rock, but gravity had other ideas, and he simply fell over the side and tumbled down to the river below.
Amelia wasn’t out of danger. She’d lost her balance as she’d worked to stay clear of Forrest. Penn moved as quickly as he dared, sticking close to the rock face and away from the edge. “Take my hand!” He reached for her as she started to slip.
Just when he thought he was going to lose her, his fingers met hers. He clasped her hand and pulled her hard against him. They fell back against the rock, and he fought to keep them upright.
Her breath came hard and fast against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. “I’ve got you,” he said, kissing her temple. “I’ve got you.”
She dug her fingers into his shoulders and clutched his coat so tightly that it pulled around him, reminding him that a bullet had grazed his arm. But he didn’t care. He’d endure anything for her.
“Is he...?” Her voice was muffled against his chest. “I can’t look.”
Penn couldn’t look right now either, but he couldn’t imagine anyone would survive the fall with the rocks below. “I can’t verify anything, but I think we can assume he’s dead.”
A shudder racked her body. Penn held her more tightly and brushed his lips across the top of her head. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.
“Can we get off this ledge, please?” she asked, still without lifting her head from where it was tucked into him.
“Yes, let’s.” He positioned her between himself and the rock face as he slowly led her back to the incline.
She climbed up with him holding and guiding her from the back. He scampered up after her and, well away from the edge, drew her into his embrace once more. “You’re safe now.”
She twined her arms around his neck, her body still shaking. He held her close, stroking her back and whispering words of calm and care. The rain continued to mist around them, and he moved his hat to her head.
Blinking, she pulled back and looked at his arm. “You’re bleeding.”
Penn winced. “That last brigand shot me.” He studied her, looking for a wound he couldn’t see. “What about you? I heard a gunshot earlier.”
“That was an accident. Price—the one you shot—slipped on the path, and his pistol went off. He injured another of Thaddeus’s men, Bertie. Did you see him on your way here? We need to help him.”
Penn shook his head, his mouth pressed into a grim line. “No, we don’t.”
Amelia lifted her fingertips to her lips and briefly closed her eyes. “I feel terrible that any of this had to happen.”
Penn brought his hands to her face and cupped her cheeks. “None of this is your fault. The Camelot group is evil and will stop at nothing to achieve their ends. They need to be stopped.” He thought of Gideon and again wondered what had happened between him and Foliot.
Thinking of Gideon prompted his next question. “Are you ready to go find the heart?”
She breathed deeply. “After I look at your wound.”
“It’s fine. Barely a scratch. You can tend it when we get back to the inn.”
“You must at least let me wrap your cravat around it.” Her tone brooked no argument.
He pulled his coat from that arm, with her assistance, wincing with the effort. “You’re behaving like a wife again.”
“Is that a proposal?”
“Hell yes. Marry me, Amelia.”
She rolled up the sleeve of his shirt and looked at his wound. “You may need a couple of stitches.” Reaching up, she tugged his cravat free, then wrapped it tightly around his lower bicep. “What is it with everyone getting shot in the arm?” she murmured.
