“I’m glad you feel that way.” That was Clive’s rough voice. Clive was here for me? Even though… even though… Anguish filled me as I remembered his anger, his fight with William. That hurt even more than my head did. “Hand her over, and you won’t have to die.”
“Has it escaped your notice that you’re outnumbered?” Lord Carmichael’s voice hardened, and my breath caught in my throat. Oh, God… my husbands were going to be killed, and it was all my fault.
My eyes popped open as I began to struggle against the arms holding me. I was unceremoniously dropped onto the ground, knocking the breath from me. The sight that met my eyes did nothing to make me feel better.
William and Clive were both there, hands on their holsters, glaring daggers at the two men standing in front of me. I could see my husbands through their legs. I glanced up to see Carmichael on my right, glaring at my husbands. Carmichael’s face was horrifically scarred, and I gasped when I saw my handiwork, jerking my gaze away. Twisting my head around, there was another unknown man standing behind me, blocking off any chance of escape.
I peeked at Carmichael again.
No wonder he’d chased me across the ocean and into the west. I had ruined his face and one of his eyes. Likely ruined his chances of a good marriage. How would he have explained such a scar? Most women of the ton would have run screaming at the sight, although there would likely have been those who would hold their noses for his title… though he wouldn’t have wanted to marry any of the latter.
He’d been one of most handsome men in England, and I’d taken that from him. I’d done more than reject him and steal from him—I’d taken away his face.
He was here for revenge.
None of the men looked at me, not even Carmichael, disregarding me as unimportant. They were all focused on William and Clive, who both snorted at Lord Carmichael’s words.
“Last warning,” Clive said, glaring at Lord Carmichael. I clapped my hands over my mouth, not wanting to distract them.
“Kill them,” Lord Carmichael snarled. I screamed as rough fingers grabbed my hair, pulling upward. The pain in my head intensified, my scalp burning, and I lashed out, kicking hard as the sound of gunshots filled the air.
Oh God, they’re dead, and it’s all my fault.
Tears burned my eyes, from more than the pain, and I found Carmichael’s hand in my hair. I grabbed onto him, digging in my nails, kicking and screaming for all I was worth.
I knew he meant to kill me, too, but I wasn’t going to make it easy for him. I felt my foot connect and dug in my nails harder, sinking them into the flesh of his hand, scratching like a hellcat.
I heard him bellow, then felt the blow across my face that left my ears ringing.
Another shout, more gunshots, horses whinnied, and more shouting. I couldn’t take in the words, couldn’t make sense of them. Everything was too chaotic. There was so much dust, and my eyes were full of tears, even though I hadn’t thought I had any left.
I kicked and kicked and kicked. Arms wrapped around me from behind, and I screamed so loud, it hurt my throat.
“Let go, Sassy, let go, sweetheart, I’ve got you,” William said in my ear, gentle, soothing.
I sank back against him, sobbing and blinking, only now realizing Lord Carmichael’s grip on my hair had loosened. William rocked back, pulling me onto his lap and holding me in his arms. I clung to him, selfishly taking in every drop of comfort he offered, even though I knew I didn’t deserve it.
The sound of fighting drew my gaze, and my eyes widened. The two men who had been standing in front of me were dead on the ground, blood stains on their chest. I couldn’t see them very well, they were too far away from me, but I could tell they weren’t moving. Just past them, Clive was rolling around with the man who had been standing behind me.
“Clive!” I whispered his name, jerking forward, but William held me back.
“Stop that, sweetheart. He’s enjoying himself.” William tightened his arms around me. “He’s got quite a bit of anger to work out.”
I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand any of this. How was this possible?
“Well, these guys seem more used to fists than pistols,” William told me, which was when I realized I’d asked the question aloud. “Clive and I got the draw on them, then I shot Carmichael while he was trying to d
rag you up in front of him as a shield.” His tone gave Carmichael’s title a sardonic twist. “Clive decided to jump on the last henchman and work out some of his issues, instead of shooting him, I suppose.”
“He’s dead?” I twisted around on William’s lap. Deep down, some part of me knew Carmichael was dead, or William wouldn’t be holding me, but I had to see for myself.
William tried to stop me from looking. “Sweetheart, don’t—”
“No, I need to see him,” I whispered, pushing his hand away from my face. “I need to see it for myself, William, or I’ll never believe it. Not deep down.”
He sighed but let me look.
I almost gasped again. I hadn’t realized Carmichael’s body was so close to us, only a few feet away. He was lying on his back, eyes wide open and sightless, staring at the sky. There were two holes in his chest, and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.