Robert sensed they had reached a point of no return. Victoria could identify the agent who held her captive. Who knew what the blackguard would now do in order to protect himself?
Robert moved forward, pistol raised. “Let go of her!” he bellowed.
It all happened so quickly. One minute she was in fear of this cad taking liberties with her body, the next the night had exploded in shouts and violence.
Robert’s loud cry was enough to startle the agent for the East India and the man turned his head and looked in the direction from which the sound had come. A horrid grin spread across his face. “Ah, now we get to the good part,” he said.
He pushed off from Victoria and took a step back. But instead of pointing his weapon at Robert, he aimed it at her. She stilled. This man was no fool, he knew full well that her husband wouldn’t do anything rash while his wife had a pistol pointed at her head. The easiest way to get the Duke of Spice to cave would be to threaten his duchess.
Her hands dropped to her side. It was now or never. Victoria’s fingers brushed against the pocket of her coat. Her hand slipped inside and took a hold of the loaded pistol.
Don’t carry a weapon unless you are prepared to use it.
Robert moved forward another step, and the agent whirled round, and fired a shot at him. It hit him in the shoulder, and he immediately dropped his weapon. While the agent’s attention remained focused on the injured Robert, Victoria withdrew the pistol and cocked it. He didn’t see the pistol in her hand as she aimed it at him and fired.
His shoulder was aflame with searing agony. The shot had torn into his muscle. Robert’s grip on his pistol slackened and it fell to the ground. The East India agent was serious, he wasn’t leaving here without taking Robert as his prisoner.
Through the haze of his pain, he spied the small movement of Victoria’s arm. His breath caught in his throat as she raised her pistol and shot the agent for the East India Company at point blank range. The bullet hit him in the head, and he dropped to the ground like a stone. The agent lay motionless, face down on the roadway, his black coat covering him in a makeshift shroud.
Victoria stepped away from the body but didn’t look at Robert. Instead his wife’s gaze fell, and she stared at the smoking pistol which remained in her hand. He waited, expecting her to break down; to collapse in tears.
But his duchess simply stared at the weapon.
And then her entire body began to tremble.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Victoria shook from head to toe. The night air was chilly, but she had enough presence of mind to recognize that she was going into shock. Cold didn’t make your heart race like hers was right now. It was pumping at a furious rate. Adrenaline coursed through her.
She’d killed a man. Shot him dead. To the moment when she eventually took her own last breath, she would remember that look of surprise on his face. The shocking realization that his life was over.
“Victoria.”
Robert staggered toward her, holding his injured left arm. When he reached her, he let go and held out his right hand. He was breathing heavy as he sought to prize the pistol from her fingers. She refused to let go. “No.”
“Sweetheart. Let me take the weapon.”
She shook her head, rejecting his command. If he thought to be a hero, it was too bloody late. His villainy had put her in this position, but she had saved herself. And while he’d been badly wounded, he was still alive.
The Tolley Manor steward, accompanied by Stanley, appeared from out of the darkness. Jasper took one look at the dead East India agent, then at Robert, and swore. Victoria tore her gaze from the man she’d just killed and met her husband’s eyes. “Yes, bloody hell is exactly what this is.”
She took in the blood which now seeped from the wound in his shoulder and pulled away. Robert groaned and released his hold. The look she gave him was one of warning. If he pushed, she was more than prepared to put a bullet in him.
Jasper now cautiously approached. His steps were slow, his hands raised in surrender. This was a man who knew how to handle angry estate livestock, and not get gored. “Your Grace,” he said, in a low calm voice.
Victoria remained silent. She wanted nothing more than for him to take the weapon as she didn’t trust herself not to throw it hard at Robert’s head.
When the steward held out his hand, she numbly handed him the pistol. “You might want to summon the local magistrate. I expect he will wish to take me into custody. Oh, and His Grace will need a physician.”
She followed Jasper’s gaze as it shifted from her to Robert. “His Grace is the local magistrate so that won’t be necessary, Your Grace. I’ll take the wagon and go make a pile with the empty barrels.” He nodded toward the body. “Once that’s done, I’ll get a fire started.”
Victoria’s hand went to her mouth. The mere notion of burning a body had her stomach churning. She’d just killed a man and now they were going to cover up the crime.
Jasper turned to the estate worker who had roused him from his bed. “Stanley, take the best horse from the stables and go fetch Doctor Gibb. Tell him there has been an accident at Tolley Manor and to come quick.”
Stanley gave a nod, then raced back down the laneway toward the manor house. Victoria let out a sigh of relief. The last thing she needed was for her husband to bleed to death on account of his spice smuggling.
Robert stepped closer. The expression of deep concern mixed with pain which sat on his face only served to further inflame her anger.
