“Stoke the fire.”
Eliza winced and shot a questioning glance to Kitty. Was Nathaniel’s wound so terrible he was already delirious?
She glanced to her left, toward the fireplace. The flames wobbled over the dilapidated logs. “I’ll take care of that after I—”
The fire poker!
She stopped mid-sentence and her mouth opened upon recognition. Nathaniel nodded. Thomas needed a weapon—something, anything to defend himself against Samuel’s sword.
She squashed the escalating panic that surged upward from her toes and moved toward the fire.
Lord, I can’t do this without you, please help me!
Eliza looked between Samuel and Thomas, leaving her eyes on her hero a second longer, hoping he would somehow sense what she was about to do. Thomas closed his lips and dipped his head ever so slight.
“I’ve been dreaming of this day you know,” Samuel said. “Eliza was mine long before you ever knew her.”
Thomas took a step back. “God doesn’t want people to be forced or coerced. Let her decide the future that she wants for herself, Samuel.”
Eliza grabbed the poker with two hands, fearing her trembling fingers wouldn’t perform the needed calling. Dear God, guide this from my hands to Thomas’s.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Thomas’s muscles flexed as he gauged his adversary’s every move. Samuel proceeded gracefully, with the same reserved strength of a tiger, ready to pounce.
Thomas kept a careful side-glance on Eliza. His body wanted to heave forward and snatch the weapon, but he used every measure of resistance to wait for just the right moment.
“She made her own choice, Thomas. Or don’t you remember?” Samuel said. He straightened an inch. His face lit with mock surprise. “Oh! That’s right. She chose me!” His hissed the last words as the muscles around his mouth contorted.
Now!
Thomas gave a slight nod, still locking eyes with his foe. The poker soared in a perfect arch. He reached out his hand and the heavy, impromptu weapon landed directly in his waiting palm.
Samuel recoiled in momentary surprise, then lunged. Thomas parried the attack, the sound of metal on metal clanking in the air. Samuel repositioned with lightning speed and swiped downward. Thomas dodged to the right before he could be sliced in two. He swung the poker against the sword with a powerful smack.
His muscles throbbed, raw energy pulsing through him as Samuel’s fight grew desperate. He slammed the sword over Thomas, but Thomas held both ends of the poker above his head to shield himself from the hit. He released one hand and held to the poker with the other, vaulting it through the air in a perfect arch, forcing the sword away from him.
Samuel reared back and poised for another strike.
The room around Thomas blurred. All that existed was the man who’d subjected him to years of blackmail. All that existed was the man who had taken Eliza against her will. All that existed was the man who wanted him dead.
“Give up, Thomas! All this dancing around is only postponing the inevitable. I am going to kill you.” Samuel lunged again. The sound of his slashing blade ripped the air.
Seeing the half-second opening, Thomas moved in. He gouged forward with his two-pronged poker. Samuel weaved to the side. Thomas jumped. He dropped his weapon and lunged at Samuel’s hand. Thomas gripped the sword, using both of his arms for added stability. The men wrestled for control, grunting and shaking.
Thomas worked all his muscles and wrenched Samuel to the side, smacking his wrist against the wall.
A hollow roar cut the air, and Samuel dropped the sword but pushed into his aggression and launched forward. He plowed his shoulder into Thomas’s gut and wrapped his arms around his back.
Thomas fumbled backward. He slammed into the table beside him as he fell to the ground, sending the burning oil lamp crashing onto the floor.
The air popped from his lungs as he hit the solid wood beneath him. Samuel released his hold then jumped on top of him, jamming his elbow into Thomas’s exposed ribcage.
Thomas’s vision blurred as the bones in his chest cracked, sending a stabbing sensation into his back. He battled for air and blinked to clear his sight when another blinding pain sliced into his jaw.
As if from a tunnel, Eliza’s panicked voice reached his ears. “Stop, Samuel! You’ll kill him!”
“That’s the point, my dear.” Samuel grunted, as he molded his iron-like fingers around Thomas’s neck.