“How did you know what I was doing?”
There was a slight cough. “Er, we’ll discuss that some other time.
Ludlowe had been staring at them in growing disbelief during the short exchange. “My God! This shrew lives at Greenfield Manor. She must be the one who told you …but I can’t believe a female would have had the brains to figure it out.”
Marcus gave a grim smile. “It is all very well to disparage my intelligence, but you made a grave mistake by underestimating Lady Augusta.”
“Not likely.” The other man had inched toward his desk.
“Augusta, watch out—” he began.
With a flick of his wrist Ludlowe sent the branch of candles flying onto Marcus’s lap.
As Augusta gasped and took an involuntary step forward, her attention riveted on the sparks and flames threatening to set the earl’s coat on fire, Ludlowe lunged at her and was able to wrest the pistol from her grasp.
“Intelligence?” he snarled, pushing her away from him. “She has no more than you do. Indeed, the two of you gudgeons make quite a matched pair.”
Marcus slowly levered himself up from the floor, having easily put out the flames. “Think on it, Ludlowe,” he warned. “You might arrange my demise to look the work of footpads, but two deaths will raise any number of awkward questions. Let Lady Augusta go. She has no proof against you, and who is going to take the word of a sharp-tongued, old female—” Augusta’s eyes sparked with indignation. “—over that of a gentleman.”
Ludlowe gave a nasty laugh. “On the contrary, Dunham. There will be nary a troublesome question. The two of youhave just given me a perfect opportunity to rid myself of your meddling with no risk to me at all.”
He paused, savoring his cleverness. “You see, in the course of doing business, I have made certain acquaintances at out-of-the-way inns who, for a price, will be happy to turn a blind eye on anything that might occur in the dead of night—even several shots.”
A mock sigh. “No doubt it will give the tabbies food for gossip for months when it’s learned that the unfortunate Lady Augusta allowed herself to be seduced by the Earl of Dunham, only to put a bullet in him when she learned he had no intention of continuing on to Gretna Green. No one will be surprised that she was then driven by remorse and shame to take her own life. I have already begun to compose the note?—”
Augusta gave an audible gasp and staggered forward several steps. Her hand came up to clutch at her throat. “I … I am feeling very faint.”
“Catch her before she keels over,” ordered Ludlowe. His lip curled in contempt. “Hysterical harpy. You’ll soon feel worse than faint, but for the moment, I need you alive.”
Marcus reached out and Augusta fell back into his arms, so hard that her dead weight caused grunt to come from his lips. For good measure, she flailed her arms and squirmed in a fit of vapors, taking care to rub hard up against Marcus’s middle.
His arms came firmly around her waist, but one hand slowly stole under her clock. “Close your eyes and go limp,” he whispered in her ear as his fingers found the hidden pocket pistol.
In a louder voice, he called to Ludlowe. “She’s passed out cold. Allow me to lay her on the floor—she’s damn heavy.”
Ludlowe motioned for him to proceed.
Marcus put her down, and then slowly rose. While still in a crouch, he whipped up the gun and squeezed off a quick shot.The bullet caught Ludlowe in the arm, sending his own weapon clattering to the floor. Augusta slithered across the carpet in a trice and grabbed it up.
“Meddlesome old bluestocking!” cried Ludlowe, clutching at his bloodied sleeve. “I shall?—”
Marcus slammed his fist into the other man’s jaw.
There was a mere wisp of a groan as Ludlowe crumpled to the floor.
Augusta scrambled to her feet, Ludlowe’s weapon still cocked and ready. “I was sorely tempted to pull the trigger.”
“I know, but it’s best this way. We will let the authorities deal with him. He won’t escape the noose.” He held out his hand. “Give me the pistol, Gus. I shall see to him.”
She gave a resigned sigh and handed it over. “I suppose you’re right.” Her gaze lingered on the unconscious body lying in a heap on the carpet, then rose to the earl’s glowering face. “I wish I knew how to do that.”
Marcus couldn’t hold back a lopsided grin. “Your knowledge is quite extensive enough without knowing how to throw a punch. Besides, I fear that I’d be the main target and your prowess with lemonade is lethal enough.”
A moment of awkward silence followed. He set aside the spent pistol. “Gus—” he began.
“I know. You wish to ring a peal over my head,” she said in a rush. “But?—”
His hand came up to caress her cheek, causing her words to catch in her throat. “A peal? Yes, I suppose I do,” he said softly, though there was some emotion other than anger in his voice. “Don’teverscare me like that again. The thought of you racing neck or nothing into such danger had me half mad?—”
