Page 84 of Earl's Well That Ends Well (The Way to a Lord's Heart 5)

Three footmen ran in with Chirt right behind them. Teresa held up a hand and let the pummeling continue for a little longer. Then she moved forward to pull the girls away. The footmen hauled Lord Simon to his feet and held him upright. He drooped in their grip, much worse for wear. He would have some bruises of his own, Teresa noted with satisfaction.

She turned to replace the poker and discovered Odile, sitting up shakily on the sofa and pointing Teresa’s pistol at the intruder. When had she taken the gun? The last Teresa knew it was shoved into the back of a drawer in her bedchamber. Had she even mentioned that? It seemed that the girl had searched her room. “Odile,” Teresa said.

“I wish to kill him dead,” replied the girl.

“It will cause great trouble for you if you kill him,” said Teresa.

“I don’t worry. He is deserving of death.”

“He may deserve it, Odile, but you do not deserve the consequences of such an act.”

“No one cares about me.”

“We do.” Teresa looked around at the other girls. “Don’t we?”

They all nodded.

“He ain’t worth it,” said Poppy. “He’s no better than a piece of trash.”

“Me, I know someone to kill him for us,” said Jeanne, breathing hard, her fingers still crooked into claws.

Teresa didn’t respond to this. Better not to discuss hired assassins. “We will use the law,” she answered instead.

“They will not listen to the likes of us,” objected Sonia.

“They will listen tome,” said Lord Macklin from the doorway.

His sudden appearance startled Odile. The pistol jerked upward in her hand and went off. The report was shockingly loud in the closed room. The air filled with the acrid smell of gunpowder.

“Merde!” Odile dropped the pistol as if it had bitten her.

The footmen had flinched and ducked, but they hadn’t released their captive. The earl, perhaps seeing the angle of the weapon, had stood very still. The rest of them had quailed. Slowly now, they straightened.

A chittery sound broke the silence. Bits of plaster fell from a hole high on the wall.

“Take him to a storeroom and lock him in,” said the earl.

Lord Simon glared at him. “You’re no better than me,” he said. His voice was more slurred than before due to a bloodied lip. “You’ve got yourself a houseful of whores right here in London.”

Teresa’s fingers tightened on the poker.

Lord Macklin showed no reaction to the taunt. “I shall speak to the authorities, and your father.”

“He won’t care,” declared Lord Simon. He rasped and spit on the carpet. His spittle was red. “Nobody will care about a bunch of light-skirts. Why should they? Worthless doxies.”

The earl gestured, and the footmen pulled Lord Simon out of the room. Chirt followed them.

Teresa replaced the poker and went to pick up her gun, which she would hide far more securely from now on.

“I am very sorry for this intrusion,” said Lord Macklin. “I hope you are not too shaken up.” His gaze passed over them all.

“I liked kicking him,” said Poppy.

“I would have preferred killing him dead,” said Odile.

“Quite understandable,” answered the earl. “But that would have been imprudent.”

Jeanne walked over to sit beside Odile and take her hand. Teresa made a note to discover the details of their whispering and make certain they did not involve hired killers.

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