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The Black Diamond (Black Diamond 2)

Page 93

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"Fine—ye want towels? Get 'em yerself."

"I'd be happy to. Where are they?"

Rawley jerked his head toward the rear of the pub. "Back there. In the storage room."

"Thank you. You've been most kind." Veering sharply about, Aurora stalked off, weaving her way through the rows of tables, pausing only to wave at Barnes as she passed.

"Where're ye goin'?" he called out.

"To get more compresses. Mr. Rawley's busy," she returned as loudly as she could.

Skirting the tavern's furthermost table, she reached the area in question, frowning when she saw there were not one but two doors to choose from. One of them had to be the door she sought.

It wasn't the first. Yanking it open, she was greeted with a burst of cold night air, informing her that she'd come upon the back entrance to the pub. Fine—then it was the other door.

Pulling it open, Aurora breathed a sigh of relief as rows of boxes and piles of towels told her that this was indeed the storage room.

"'Ey, duchess, ye need 'elp?" one of the sailors at the last table yelled good-naturedly. "I'll take on Barnes and yer 'usband if ye'll take me in that storage room with ye "

"Yeah, sure ye will," the sailor beside him chortled, giving his friend a dubious look. "'Er 'usband's Merlin. Even 'urt, 'e'd be able to thrash ye. Forget Merlin's wife and drink yer ale."

Both men dissolved into laughter and tossed back their drinks.

Aurora shrugged off the good-humored teasing, stepping inside the chamber and gathering up a small pile of towels—she hoped enough to finish treating Julian's wound so they could go home.

With that goal in mind, she retraced her steps, shutting the storage room door and turning to leave.

The cold hard object that was jammed against her ribs changed her mind.

"Good evening, Aurora."

Her head jerked about as she recognized the familiar voice, and she peered over her shoulder, requiring confirmation that her assailant was indeed who she thought it was.

"Drop the towels, my dear," the Viscount Guillford said with a pleasant smile. "You're coming with me."

* * *

Chapter 14

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The towels tumbled from Aurora's hands. "Viscount Guillford?" she gasped, paralyzed with shock.

"Shh, keep your voice down, my dear. We wouldn't want to alert your husband to my presence. Not when you've just gone to so much trouble to save his life." Guillford pressed the gun closer against her as a purposeful reminder. "I needn't tell you what harm this pistol can do. You discovered that for yourself firsthand, not a half hour ago. So just do as I say and you won't get hurt. Nor will Julian."

Aurora sucked in her breath, aching to cry out, to alert some of the sailors to her plight in the hopes of ending it. Yet she couldn't—wouldn't—risk their lives, her own, and certainly not Julian's, before discerning the viscount's state of mind. Was he insane? Angry? What in God's name was his motive for holding a pistol to her, threatening to kill her and Julian? Would he in fact carry out his threat—shoot her, then rush into the room and shoot others?

She had to find out. "What is it you want me to do?" she asked cautiously.

"Do?" he murmured. "Merely looked pleased to see me, speak to me as if we were having a most enjoyable chat, then walk out that rear entrance as if we were leaving together."

"But why…?"

"Do it." Another jab of the gun. "Unless you want me to finish what Macall began."

Aurora forced a smile to her lips, half-turning to face Guillford, only too conscious of the pistol shoved into her ribs. "Why, Viscount Guillford—what an unexpected surprise," she managed. "'Tis delightful to see you, my lord."

"Excellent," Guillford commended under his breath. "Now turn and walk through the open door."



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