Page 79 of Inventing Vivian

Vivian scowled at the man. “Your Lordship, I fully understand the workings of a firearm, as well as the composition of chemical explosives. Do not make me prove it.”

Lord Hargreave laughed again. “Come, girl. Don’t be ridiculous.” He held out his hand, palm up, and started toward her.

Vivian pulled the trigger. She’d intended to shoot far over his head, but her shaking hands threw off her aim, and the bullet hit his top hat, sending it flying. Lord Hargreave blanched, clapping his hand to his bald head.

“Now, sit down,” she told him.

He did as instructed, with no argument.

“You all right, Barnaby?” Devon said. Out of the corner of her eyes Vivian saw him aim his assailant’s pistol at the man he’d taken it from.

Mr. Barnaby nodded and stood. He wiped dust from his trousers and looked at the three men on the ground at Benedict’s feet. “Lord Covington, I’ve only ever seen fightin’ like that in Hong Kong, during the Arrow War.”

Vivian’s shaking grew worse, and her throat clogged with tears. Embarrassed by her coming apart, she put a hand over her mouth to hold back a sob.

Benedict came to her and took the pistol from her hand gently. He gave it to Mr. Barnaby, who pointed it at Lord Hargreave, and pulled her into an embrace.

Vivian’s sobs came full force now. “I’m sorry.” Her words came between gasps. “I was just so frightened.”

“It’s all right now.” He spoke into her hair, rubbing a hand up and down her back. “You’re safe.”

One of the men on the ground groaned, and Benedict stepped back to where he could watch Hargreave’s men. He pulled Vivian with him, keeping his arm around her.

Lord Hargreave started to rise, but Barnaby cleared his throat loudly, keeping the pistol aimed toward him.

In the distance came the sound of police whistles.

“Sounds like the cavalry’s on the way,” Mr. Barnaby said. “I’d prefer to be gone before they get here, if you don’t mind.”

“I thank you for your help, sir,” Vivian said. Her voice was still unsteady, and she wiped tears from her cheeks with her fingers.

“Yer concealed camera”—he motioned toward the crate with his chin—“’twas a brilliant idea, Miss Kirby.”

“Would you like to take it?” she asked.

“I can think of a few uses for the thing.” He grinned, tapping the side of his nose. “I’ll see ye soon, then, I hope?”

She nodded. “Devon, you’ll see that he gets home safely?”

“I will, miss.” He and Mr. Barnaby both gave their pistols to Benedict. They took the crate with the camera, and a moment later, they disappeared into the night.

“You know they’re as good as dead,” Lord Hargreave said, sitting back against the warehouse wall and examining his fingernails. “You all are. They’ll never convict me.”

“Not unless someone were to find your accounting books in the hidden office of a small warehouse on Glengall Road.” Benedict spoke in an offhanded voice without glancing at the man.

Lord Hargreave stared at him with wide eyes.

“Are you better now, Vivian?” Benedict moved to a position where he could keep the weapons at the ready, trained between the five men.

“Yes.” She stood close to him, watching to make sure none of the men tried to escape. “I didn’t mean to fall apart.”

“Perfectly understandable, given the circumstance.”

Vivian studied Lord Hargreave’s henchmen where they lay on the ground. Two of them weren’t moving, one was bloodied, and the other held his shoulder, glaring at Benedict.

“I’ve never seen anything like that, that kung fu,” Vivian said. “You were incredible.” She glanced at him, looking him over quickly. “You aren’t hurt?”

“My knuckles are a bit sore,” he said. He shrugged, glancing at her long enough to smile.

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