He had jumped out of the coach and, once again, was coming to her rescue.
Becky said on a hushed whisper, “Scott … oh Scott …”
Scott had Becky tucked into one arm, his pistol leveled at the blackguards, while the duke told them, “Don’t move. I am a very good shot.” With his free hand, the duke gathered Felicia against his side and cast her a quick appraisal.
* * *
The duke had his pistol aimed as he held Felicia against himself and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. When he saw her, dirty and disheveled, bleeding, and yet still so very brave, he thought his heart would explode with all the emotions that raced through it.
Fear had gripped it these past moments; now, all he could think was that she was, as Scott had first told him, indomitable.
She was here, she was safe, and, he could see, she was ready to take on the world. How he adored her.
Was there, ever, any woman like to her? No, the answer was no.
His hand itched to pull the trigger of his leveled pistol and forever end the life of the brutes that had dared to lay hands on her and Becky.
One of the miscreants said to the other, “Now whot do we do, Lew? We ain’t got the morts … so whot now?”
“Shut it, Styles.” Lew glared at him.
“Ah,” the duke directed at Lew, “doesn’t seem like such a wondrous plan, now, does it, you blackguard.” He had a sudden urge to put down his pistol and tear the swine apart with his own two hands.
Lew gave the duke a worried grin and said, “Well then, whot now? No harm … we’ll be on our way.”
The duke bent, and without taking his eyes off the scoundrel he kissed Felicia once more and said, “Get in the coach, at once. Take Becky and obey me in this, for there will be blood.” The duke could see that Scott was hugging Becky to himself, and he said, “Send her with Felicia into the coach and out of this.” He held her for one moment and said, “Tell my driver that at the first sign of trouble he is to take off and get you and Becky safely away.”
“Yes, but—”
“No buts, my sweetheart, just do as I say,” he told her firmly.
Felicia seemed to consider his words and for once, he was pleased, did not argue but took Becky’s limp hand and said, “Yes, Glen.” She turned to her friend and said, “Becky … come with me, I must get you off the street.”
Scott touched Becky gently as he guided the ladies safely towards the coach and turned around to see that the duke had his gun leveled at the two blackguards. He leveled his own as well.
“I wouldn’t move a muscle if I were you,” the duke said. “As I told you, I am very good at hitting my target, and I am aiming for a spot between your beady eyes.”
Lew obviously knew they were in a bind. “Lookee, I don’t have no quarrel with ye. We’ll call it a day and just head on home now. Even, we are … we’ll call it even.”
“Will we?” The duke shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“Shall I drop the one with the knife?” Scott asked, his lips drawn with fury.
“I think not,” replied the duke, but at that moment Lew made the mistake of lifting his pistol, apparently hoping to get off a shot.
The duke put a bullet in his hand, sending Lew’s gun flying. The other dropped his knife and began running, and Scott took chase.
Lew was screaming, and the duke walked up to him and with one blow knocked him senseless. He dropped to the cobblestone and appeared down for the count.
The duke turned to see if Scott needed help, but the young man had overtaken Styles, jumped him, and dropped him to the ground. He dragged Styles back and threw him down to his knees in front of the duke, who said while reloading his pistol, “Thank you. Now it would appear that you two have a problem. This is how you will solve it.”
From the coach he heard Felicia swing the door wide and shout, “Ashton!”
He turned in time to see that Lew had come to, reached for and retrieved his pistol, and had it aimed with his uninjured hand.
/> One shot!
Lew now had two bullet wounds, one for each hand. He would never be able to use a gun properly again, the duke thought with satisfaction.