The Sherbrooke Bride (Sherbrooke Brides 1)

“But that leaves two of them,” Tony said.

“Don’t worry, they’re mine,” Douglas said and he rubbed his hands together. He saw that Georges would disagree and quickly said, “No, I am a better fighter in the dark. Obey me in this. Once we’re away from France, you can kill entire battalions, Georges.”

Georges didn’t like it. He was always the one in control, the commander of any and all raids. But he owed Douglas; he also respected his abilities, and thus held his tongue. Further, it hurt to talk because Douglas had hit him so hard in the jaw. Also it was difficult to see clearly. His right eye was now only a tiny slit.

They waited in absolute silence until the four guards were at their farthest points, then they scattered, hunkered down, appearing just shadows in the night.

Douglas planned to take the two remaining guards when they came together. He couldn’t wait. He was grinning in the darkness. The dried mud on his face itched but he ignored it. The three of them were dark shadows on this particular night. He watched Tony make his way toward the guard. He remained relaxed. He grunted in satisfaction when Tony brought the man down, his forearm pressed hard into his throat, the only noise the man was making was a soft gurgling sound. As for Georges, he grabbed his guard, twisting his arms behind him and arching his back. He didn’t kill him but Douglas knew he wanted to. He was relieved that Georges was sticking to their agreement.

Douglas readied himself. The guards were drawing closer. One was speaking and Douglas heard him say, “Ho, where’s Jacques?”

“Probably relieving himself. He drank too much of that cheap wine.”

They were nearly together. Douglas was silent and fast. He was on them before they saw him. He grinned and said in his flawless French, “Good evening, gentlemen!” He sent his right elbow into one man’s belly and his left fist went into the other man’s throat. He twirled on the balls of his feet, and slammed his foot into one guard’s chin while his other hand struck the other guard dead center in his chest. Both fell like stones. Douglas quickly dragged the two men into the bushes and straightened. He gave a soft hooting sound and Georges and Tony were beside him in an instant.

“Well done,” Tony whispered. “Remind me not to enrage you ever again, cousin.”

Douglas grunted. They quickly tied the men and stuffed gags into their mouths. Douglas then led the way to the side of the house to the salon where he and General Belesain had played the card game so long before. The window was locked. Douglas gently broke it, tapping it lightly with the palm of his hand.

Tony made a cup with his hands and hefted Douglas up. He slithered through the window, dropping lightly onto the carpeted floor. In moments, Tony and Georges were with him.

Silently they made their way up the wide front stairs, shadows against the wall, low and swift.

There was one guard outside General Belesain’s bedchamber. He was sprawled against the wall, sound asleep, his pistol on his lap.

Douglas tapped him with the butt of his own pistol over his right temple. He slumped over and lay on his side against the wall.

“Now,” Douglas said. Very quietly he turned the knob to the bedchamber door. The door made no sound. Slowly, slowly, he pressed the door inward. It was perfectly silent. He stepped inside.

He looked toward the bed but couldn’t make out the general’s body. He took another step forward then froze.

“Ah, that’s right,” the general said low, not an inch from his ear. His pistol was pointed

in the middle of Douglas’s back.

“Who are you, eh? A thief breaking into this house? A fool, more like. I will see in a moment. You see, I heard you, for I have the insomnia, you know? I heard you; I hear everything.”

Douglas didn’t move. He didn’t hear any noise from Tony or Georges in the hallway not two feet away.

A candlelight flickered and he was momentarily blinded when Belesain thrust it directly in front of his face.

“You,” Belesain said and he was shocked. “I don’t believe this, it makes no sense. Why are you here?”

Douglas said nothing.

“Ah, it matters not for you will die in any case. There is no reason not to kill you now, save for one small fact you must tell me. There are four guards. I cannot believe that you disabled all of them.”

“He didn’t,” said Tony, and slammed the door into Belesain’s arm. The pistol went flying. Douglas turned on his heel and smashed his fist into Belesain’s stomach.

The man was wearing only a white nightshirt and presented a perfect target in the dark room.

Georges came through the door and grabbed Douglas’s arm. “Now it is my turn,” he said and struck the general hard on the jaw. He went down on his hands and knees and remained there, panting hard, moaning softly.

“He has gotten fatter since last I saw him,” Douglas said.

“He could be skinny as a post and still be a pig,” Georges said, and spit on the general. “Attend me, old man. I am Georges Cadoudal and I am here for retribution. You abused my Janine. You not only kept her prisoner, you raped her and let other men rape her as well.”

“Cadoudal,” General Belesain said dumbly, looking up. “God, it is you.”