Page 79 of A Bride for the Baron

Mrs. Uppington screamed.

“Go inside the book room,” Vera said. “We can shut off the lamp, and we should be—”

Mrs. Uppington screamed again, this time pointing past Vera.

Spinning to look back, Vera saw Sir Nigel running toward her. Did he have a second pistol? She had to protect herself and Edmund’s aunt. But how? He was almost to the suits of armor. His eyes glittered as they focused on the sword held by the first knight.

With a shout, she leaped forward and yanked the long lance from the gauntlet of the nearest suit of armor. It was heavier than she expected, but she held it up, ignoring her protesting shoulders. She had to halt the baronet before he could reach the armor and the weapons waiting there.

“Stay back,” she ordered as she tried to see if anyone was following him. She doubted she could keep the baronet from pushing past her for more than a few seconds.

“Now, Miss Fenwick, this isn’t how a vicar’s sister should act. I assume you were the one who found my flask and gave it to Meriweather.” He inched toward the lance’s pointed end as he taunted, “Did you think it would make him fall in love with a mouse like you?”

As he put his hand out to grab the lance, she jabbed the sharp point toward him.

He jumped aside and cursed before ordering, “Put it down, Miss Fenwick. Now. Before I become angry. I don’t want to hurt a woman, but, if you don’t move, I will make you very sorry.”

She shouted over her shoulder, “Mrs. Uppington, go and get help.” She did not dare to look back to see if Edmund’s aunt did as she asked.

“Help won’t come in time,” Sir Nigel said. “I have led them on a merry chase. Put down the lance, and we will forget this happened.”

“Forget that you ordered your smugglers to kill Lord Ashland and they nearly succeeded?”

“Nearly?” His arrogance cracked for a moment. “Ashland is alive?”

“Alive and sharing everything he knows about you and your smugglers. It’s over, Sir Nigel.”

“Not yet.” He tried to sidestep the lance, but she countered.

The motion threw her off balance. As she teetered, trying to keep the tip of the lance from hitting the floor, he reached to grab it again. He miscalculated, and the sharp edge cut into his hand. He shrieked even more shrilly than Mrs. Uppington had. Blood dripped onto the floor as he yanked the lance from her hands.

She stepped back as he flipped the lance and pointed it at her heart. He moved toward her. She banged into the wall. Hearing a scream, she realized Mrs. Uppington had not gone for help. Sir Nigel’s smile became savage as he drew back the lance to thrust it into her. She closed her eyes, knowing she had no escape.

Help Edmund, Lord, she prayed. He had suffered so much sorrow. Now...

There was a thump, but no pain. The lance clattered against the floor. Another thud. Louder than the first.

Opening her eyes, she saw Sir Nigel sprawled on the floor. Behind him, Edmund held his pistol by the barrel as he had on the shore. “Maybe one of these days, I will actually fire this thing instead of using it as a cudgel.”

She threw herself into his arms. They closed around her, and, for the first time since she had discovered Gregory was missing, she surrendered to tears.

Chapter Eighteen

Three days passed before Lord Ashland was well enough to return to his estate. Lady Meriweather had ordered a wagon lined with enough blankets to keep a fairy tale princess from feeling the bumps along the road. It waited outside the stable, because it had been simpler to bring the viscount down the back stairs than the front.

Edmund went to the side of the wagon to bid the viscount a good journey. “If there is anything we can do while you are recovering, let us know.”

Ashland clasped Edmund’s right hand with his left. “I owe you my life, Meriweather, and I will not forget that.”

“You owe God your life, because He set my feet on the path that let me find you in time.”

“I admire your faith, Meriweather.” Lord Ashland smiled, but tightly. “And I wish I had realized earlier that you were on the side of good in this battle.”

“What have you reported to your superiors?”

His smile broadened. “If I were ever to forget that you are a former army officer, questions like that would remind me.” He grew serious. “I have reported the recent events.”

“And their response?”

“What you would expect. They will send some extra excise officers to arrest any smugglers they can catch. With the tunnels no longer hidden, their activities will be curtailed at least for a while.”

“And Sir Nigel?”

“Without clear proof that Tresting is the leader of the smugglers, they will not move against him. To accuse a baronet, even though he is not a member of the peerage, is a grave matter.” He smiled coldly. “However, the charge of murdering Cadman is another thing, though that is still under investigation. The attempted murder of your aunt will be easier to prove because there are plenty of witnesses.”

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