“What?” But Lord Fine had turned on his heel and was striding away. Sebastian tried to sit up, only to jerk against the cuffs again. “Lord Fine, what are you doing?”
Lord Fine ignored him, instead crossing the room to the large window framed with velvet drapes. He set the gun on the ledge and then opened the window, deliberately, so there was no question as to his movements.
Powderpuff’s little yips became louder.
Lord Fine picked the gun back up and leaned on the wall, eyes on the outside.
Sebastian furrowed his eyebrows. “What are you doing?” he asked again.
“Waiting,” said Lord Fine.
“For what?”
“For Powderpuff to come into view,” said Lord Fine. “She’s barely half a stone, you know, nothing but white fluff and barks.”
“But why are you waiting for Powderpuff?”
“The racket this mongrel makes has been the bane of my mornings.” He sighted down the barrel of his gun. “Not for much longer.”
Sebastian drew back in horror. “You wouldn’t.”
“I just told you I indulge in the monstrous English pastime of hunting foxes for sport. What do I care for a Maltese?”
Sebastian tried to sit up. The handcuffs bit into him, and held him down. “Lord Fine—”
“Tell me the truth about what happened last night.”
“You’re not taking your neighbor’s dog hostage!”
“I believe that’s exactly what I’m doing,” Lord Fine said, without taking his eyes off the window. “I am notnicenor aninnocent. I want answers and you will give them to me if I have to point this gun at every overindulged pet in Kensington.”
Sebastian’s temper was rising. Lord Fine wouldn’t. Hewouldn’t. Would he? “You can’t make that shot.”
“I served for four years in the British Army, three as captain, and have won five marksman trophies since. I could make this shot in my sleep.” Lord Fine steadied the gun. “And there’s little Powderpuff now. Lady Pennington is going to be so sad when her precious puppy is gone—”
Sebastian’s magic swept out before his brain could stop it.
Lord Fine toppled like a felled tree.
A strangled “fucking hell” escaped as he collapsed, missing the wall and falling out of Sebastian’s line of sight. Then there was a loud thump, like a body smacking solid wood planks.
Sebastian scrambled to rein his magic in, but it was too late.
“And there it was,” Lord Fine’s voice came, from the floor.
A moment later, two hands came into view at the side of the bed. One of the hands set the gun to the side. Then Lord Fine’s head emerged over the edge of the mattress, his hair sticking up strangely and the side of his face red, like he’d hit the floor with some force.
Sebastian winced.
Lord Fine crossed his arms, still kneeling at the side of the bed so their eyes were level.
“I believe in magicnow,” he said.
Chapter Seven
The last of that strange watery sensation was leaving Wesley’s limbs as he watched the guilt and sheepishness play out over Sebastian’s face. For a man who claimed to be a dangerous scoundrel, he wasn’t very good at hiding his feelings. Frankly, the sheepishness was a good look on him.
Everythingwas a good look on him, the bastard.
