“Damn it.” His powerful shoulders bunching, Gideon struggled to control the rearing, squealing pony. The tree had missed the animal by inches. “Whoa there! Settle down!”

Charis clung trembling to the rocking gig as the maddened horse bucked and fought. Gideon fought to enforce obedience. Finally, recognizing the hand of authority, the pony stood quivering between the shafts with its head lowered.

Gideon cast her an urgent glance. “Jump, Charis, and run!”

But it was too late. Charis hardly drew breath before a roughly dressed man appeared from the underbrush. He snatched the halter with cruel force, wrenching the skittish pony’s head up.

“Sir Gideon, what a pleasure.” The oily self-satisfied voice oozed down Charis’s spine and held her paralyzed on the seat. A terrifyingly familiar voice.

Across the pony’s heaving back, she met Felix’s gelid gray regard. Her every muscle tensed. Choking fear set like stone in her belly. Dear Lord, they were trapped.

Felix looked so pleased with himself, rage boiled up to drown her fear. With just such an expression, he’d watched Hubert beat her black-and-blue. She invested every ounce of the contempt she felt into her glare. “Felix. Still a sneaking little worm, I see.”

Her stepbrother’s hands clenched on the halter, so the frightened pony whinnied and tossed its head in protest. “Shut up, you little bitch!”

“And eloquent as ever. I’m impressed.” Her voice lowered into irony. “I find myself less impressed with your appearance. Have you given up bathing for Lent?”

“Stay quiet, for God’s sake,” Gideon hissed, dragging her to his side with one strong arm. With his other hand he reached into the pocket of his greatcoat, she guessed for his pistol. “What in Hades are you about, Farrell?”

He didn’t shift his attention from Felix, and his voice was sharp and lordly, as it had been when he spoke to the brothers at Penrhyn. Charis pressed closer, her brief defiance fading beneath growing awareness of their terrible danger.

“I wouldn’t do anything too impulsive, if I were you, Trevithick.” Felix drew himself up and made a dismissive gesture. “You’re expendable, and I’m sure you won’t wish to leave my sister undefended.”

He nodded to someone behind the gig, and Charis heard the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking. She didn’t need to see who it was. The two brothers rarely acted apart.

Her pulses raced, and sweat prickled her palms, but Gideon’s heartbeat remained steady and sure under her cheek. The unhurried, regular sound bolstered her courage. Even as he lifted his hand away from his pocket.

“Lady Charis is now my wife,” Gideon said calmly, his arm tightening around her in a silent promise of protection. But how could he keep her safe when the brothers had them at such disadvantage?

“The devil she is,” Hubert snarled, stamping into view and brandishing two large horse pistols.

The brothers’ fortunes had clearly worsened in recent weeks. They were unshaven, their clothing was creased and stained, and their linen was gray. The Farrells’ unkempt state hinted they’d been sleeping rough. With sudden spite, Charis hoped it had rained every night. She hoped it had snowed.

“We’ve ridden to Gretna and back. We know you haven’t married the slut,” Felix snapped, snatching one of the guns from Hubert and aiming it squarely at the pair in the gig.

Gideon didn’t flinch although she felt him subtly shift so his body shielded her from the pistol. Foolish, heroic man. The rusty taste of regret flooded her mouth as she remembered how angry she’d been with him all day.

“I have indeed wed this lady.” Gideon bit out the last word. His sangfroid stirred Charis’s admiration even as acid dread rushed through her veins. “In Jersey a fortnight ago. For confirmation, apply to the Reverend Thomas Briggs of St. Helier. Lady Charis’s person and fortune are now at my disposal.”

Stupid Hubert lowered his pistol. Felix cast him an irritated glance. “What the hell are you doing, man?”

“They’re married,” Hubert spluttered. “The game’s up.”

“For God’s sake, keep them in your sights!” Felix whipped around to face Gideon and Charis. The feral light in his eyes indicated this was his last desperate throw of the dice, and he intended to win. “It’s not as simple as that, Trevithick.”

“No?” Gideon still sounded nonchalant. “Any harm gets you no closer to the money—and garners you a hanging when the law catches up with you. Make no mistake. You and your brute of a brother are identified as likely culprits should mischief befall us.”

“You have it all wrong.” Felix’s smile took on a smug curve that sent a shiver down Charis’s backbone. “I mean everyone to walk away safe and sound, Hubert and I considerably richer and you, sadly, considerably poorer.”

Gideon’s soft laugh lifted the hairs on the back of Charis’s neck. He sounded utterly powerful. As if he hadn’t a care in the world, for all that they were held at gunpoint without hope of outside aid in this wild woodland. “I wouldn’t toss you a farthing after what you did to her, you bastard.”

Felix’s lip curled in scorn. “Brave words.” Without shifting his attention from the gig, Felix tilted his head toward Hubert. “Get the jade.”

Hubert stepped toward them, then hesitated as Gideon spoke with a cold savagery that made Charis’s heart skip a beat. “Touch her, and you’re dead.”

Felix’s face hardened. Most people considered him a handsome man, but for a moment, he looked uglier than a hobgoblin. Charis suppressed another shiver. “We’ll hold the chit until you transfer every penny of her fortune to me.”

Charis bit back a gasp, and her hands clenched in Gideon’s coat as if that would save her from being dragged away. She should have expected this. She knew from bitter experience that Felix hated to be bested. He’d never allow her money to slip through his fingers.

Tags: Anna Campbell Historical
Source: readsnovelonline.net