Just then, Abernath leaned out a carriage window, also holding a pistol in her hand.
She leveled the gun toward him. Bad pulled the pistol from his own waistcoat and fired at the same moment she did. Burning pain whizzed through his leg. He looked down to see blood oozing down his pants. Still, he also noted the wound was on the fleshy exterior of his thigh.
Abernath, however, let out a scream and ducked back in the carriage. Not a moment later another scream cut the air. Cold dread washed through him. Grace.
Chapter Two
Grace sat in horror as Abernath slid back into the carriage, massive amounts of blood pouring from her shoulder. She thought a scream might have wrenched from her lips but she couldn’t be certain.
When the first shot had split the air, Abernath yanked a gun from her skirt. The soft woman pleading for help was gone. In her place, Abernath had given Grace a cold, hard stare as she pointed a pistol at her chest, ordering her not to move a muscle.
Grace had done as she’d been bidden. If she had a goal in this crazy mess, it was to make it out alive.
Abernath slumped over in the seat, the gun dropping to her side. Grace licked her lips, then turned toward the window, peeking out behind her. Her heart jumped in her throat. Bad rode toward them. Without thought, she wrenched open the door. Evening was falling, could she just jump out of the carriage, unseen?
But they were moving with amazing speed and fear seized her again. Bad spurred his horse faster and another shot rang out overhead causing her to crouch down from the opening while still able to view the road behind her. Bad veered wildly and then pulled another pistol from his belt. Grace watched as he took aim and fired.
For a moment, nothing happened. Grace held her breath wondering what came next.
A large thud shook the carriage and she nearly screamed again as the body of Crusher tumbled onto the dirt road, the carriage screeching and veering wildly.
Bad swerved around the man then whipped his horse again, moving closer as the carriage continued down the road. Grace crouched in the doorway, uncertain of what to do.
“Help me,” Abernath moaned behind her. “Please.”
Frowning, Grace looked back at the woman. For a moment, she wanted to tell the countess she didn’t deserve help. After all, the woman had just pulled a gun on Grace. But then she focused on the other woman. Blood pooled on the seat and dripped to the floor and all thoughts of anger fled. Abernath wouldn’t survive the wound. She turned back into the carriage but stopped again as Bad came abreast of the door. “Don’t move,” he yelled. “I’ve got to stop this carriage.”
Tears of joy at the sight of him filled her eyes. He’d come for her. “Thank goodness you’re here,” she said gripping the door.
He nodded brusquely as he spurred the animal faster, shooting alongside the other horses.
Grace turned into the carriage and began ripping strips from her petticoat. Taking a deep breath, she crossed the tiny
interior. “Let me bandage you.”
Abernath held up a hand. “Don’t touch me.”
“I won’t hurt you,” Grace answered. “You asked for help.”
Abernath stared up into Grace’s eyes still holding her arm out between them. “I wish I could be you, do you know that? Beautiful, fresh, clean.” Abernath’s eyes drifted closed. “I should have married Darlington. I did love him. Will you tell him that for me? I didn’t mean to hurt him. I just could never trust that he’d love me in return. I was always trying to keep multiple options open in case he changed his mind.” The woman closed her eyes. “So many mistakes.”
Grace winced. “Cristina, that’s your name isn’t it?” Cristina had caused the Duke of Darlington a great deal of pain with her cheating ways. “He forgave you those sins a long time ago. It’s the new ones that are troubling him.” Like kidnapping several Chase women, she wanted to add, but kept that thought to herself.
Cristina grimaced, slumping further down on the seat. “I never could trust a man to take care of me. Not after my father…”
Grace made no response. The carriage was slowing and she partially stood to wrap up the wounds.
“I told you, don’t touch me,” Cristina closed her eyes. “I don’t want you to catch whatever it is I have.”
That made Grace stop. “I can’t let you bleed out.”
“I want to bleed out,” Cristina whispered. “It will be a quicker, far less painful death. I just need you to help me first.”
“All right, I’ll help you,” Grace answered, sitting back down on the seat. “What do you need?”
“I want you to expose the club, remember?” Cristina’s eyes popped back open and she stared at Grace.
“I’m not doing that. What else?”