The Hellion Bride (Sherbrooke Brides 2)

"She deserved it, and as soon as I get my hands on her again, I'll whip her until she's begging for mercy."

"I won't let you. Ryder won't let you."

Ryder Sherbrooke, the young man Theo wanted very much to kill. Ah, but he had the boy here, the useless little cripple. He grinned down at Jeremy. "And just how do you think you'd ever stop me, whelp? You couldn't even keep your whip. I have it now, don't I?"

"I will think of something."

There came the hissing sound of a whip cutting through the air. Then she heard a sharp cry. It was Jeremy. Uncle Theo had struck him with the whip.

She thought she'd felt all the rage of which she was capable. She'd been wrong. The wooden door was partially open. She slipped through it very quietly to see Uncle Theo, his shoulder heavily bandaged, wearing a dressing gown, standing over Jeremy, the whip raised again in his right hand.

"I'll give you another taste, Master Jeremy, just to show you how important you are!"

"If you do, you filthy wretch, I'll put a bullet through your belly. I don't want you to die quickly. I want you lie on the ground, holding your belly, feeling your guts rotting from the inside out while you scream and scream."

Theo Burgess froze, but just for an instant. Slow­ly, very slowly, he lowered the whip and turned to face his niece.

"So, you discovered the little cripple was gone and came galloping to his rescue."

She ignored him. "Come here, Jeremy. Keep your distance from him. That's right, come to me now."

Jeremy's face was white with pain, his eyes hollow with failure. She understood both feelings very well, and said, "It's all right. This time, we've won. You're very brave to come here. That's good, come to me now and we will leave soon."

"You think so, do you, slut? Don't count on it. All I have to do is call out and at least ten slaves will be here to do my bidding in an instant."

"It won't matter because you'll be belly-shot. Go ahead, Uncle, yell as loud as you want because it's the last sound you'll make without agony. I want to kill you very badly. You're a coward, whipping Jeremy, who's half your size. I suppose your utter lack of any feeling surprised even me, but just for a moment."

Theo Burgess didn't know what to do. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts from all the rum he'd had to drink for the damnable pain in his shoulder. He believed the girl. She'd stabbed him, hadn't she? Lord, he should have continued hitting her until she was dead, but he'd had to stop because the blow she'd dealt him was making him dizzy and light-headed. He looked at her now, feel­ing renewed pain in his shoulder, despite the huge amounts of rum he'd drunk, remembering the bitter torture of that damned letter opener, remembering how Thomas had pulled it out and how he'd tried to keep silent but had failed and screamed. Even then it hadn't been fair. He hadn't fallen into blessed unconsciousness. Oh no, he'd stayed with the tor­ment and it hadn't let up for a very long time. He'd sworn to make her pay. He had to make her pay and he would.

He said at last, very pleased with th

e indifference of his voice, "You know, my dear, if you kill me, you won't have a thing."

"The rum has curdled your wits. Jeremy is your heir. He will have everything."

"Oh no. He isn't my heir for the simple reason that I don't have a will."

"Will or no will, we are your closest relatives, and thus when all is said and done, Jeremy will inherit Camille Hall. Of course my father's house in Fowey is also his."

"Did dear Oliver Susson tell you that when he was plowing your belly?"

"That you believe your own fiction rather points to a failing mind, doesn't it, Uncle? I have two bullets in this derringer. Jeremy, let me see how badly he hurt you."

Her brother turned his back. The single stroke of the whip had cut through his shirt. Thank God the skin wasn't broken, but the long diagonal welt was ugly and red, the flesh rising around it. She sucked in her breath. "You're a monster, truly. Now, as I said, I have two bullets. If that whip had drawn even a fingertip of blood, I would have shot you in your belly. However, you are lucky, Uncle. I won't shoot you at all, this time. I'm simply taking Jeremy back with me to Kimberly Hall. You will leave us alone, do you understand? You won't come there nor will you send Thomas again. Now, we will leave. Don't move an inch."

"And just what will you do when Ryder Sherbrooke tosses you and the boy out of Kimberly?"

"That isn't your concern."

"Thomas told me you were installed in Ryder Sherbrooke's bedchamber. Everyone knows now that you're his mistress. Your reputation is—"

She actually laughed. "Look at my face. Can even you imagine a healthy man being interested in bed­ding me now? My ribs are even more violent shades of purple and green than my face. Believe me, even if I wanted to be in his bed, even if he'd wanted me there, I would have been unable. You saw to that. Now, Uncle, I want to leave here with Jeremy."

"To go back to that damned Englishman?"

"You're a damned Englishman, remember?"

"As I said, he'll remove you quickly enough. I hear he bores easily and no one woman could ever hold him. My agent in England wrote that he had women climbing over themselves to become his mistress. No, you ugly little slut, you couldn't hold him for more than a night."