He kissed her forehead and darted away. The gunfire had ceased, but confusion still reigned. She watched from her hiding place as Lord Duncan barked orders that even the local soldiers and townspeople obeyed. A steady trickle of prisoners was escorted from the blacksmith’s establishment. One by one, those they had been watching for several weeks were brought out of a nearby building. These were the ones they had suspected of being Luddites. Each had been restrained before being loaded onto the back of a flatbed wagon, which was surrounded by guards from the prison to prevent any attempt of escape.
Annalise studied each person involved in the incident, searching for a particular face, but it appeared that neither Caroline nor Mr. Stark was among those who had been captured. “Was I mistaken?” she asked herself, but just as she had begun to question what she thought she had seen, Alexander appeared in the open door of the stable, directing Mr. Stark before him. Moran’s former carriage driver and man-of-all-works cursed her brother with each step they took. Looking upon the spectacle and still searching for yet another familiar face, she whispered, “I was correct, after all.”
“Yes, you were,” a familiar voice said from somewhere behind her. Annalise turned slowly to view Caroline near the rear of the opposing side of the house. Caroline’s hand held a gun pointed at Annalise. “Surprised to discover me in York, Audrey?” her former friend taunted as she took a half step closer.
Annalise claimed a firm hold on her husband’s pistol, which had been hidden from sight in the folds of her skirt. “In truth, I thoughtyou had been successfully delivered to a penal colony.”
“You know my father had many who were loyal to him.” Caroline executed another step in Annalise’s direction. “Before he died, he arranged for me to be placed on a ship where there were those who would assist in my escape. He truly loved me dearly.”
“How fortunate for you,” Annalise said sarcastically. “But why return to England? Surely you could live elsewhere with more freedom than you can find here.”
“Easy,” Caroline responded. A snarl of distaste marked her features. “Avenge my father’s death.”
Annalise slowly adjusted her stance as well as her grip on the gun. She would only have one opportunity to prevent her own death. “And you blame me for your father’s fate?”
“You. Your brother. Your husband.” Caroline frowned. “I never imagined you would choose to marry.”
“Why? Did you find me lacking in charms?” Annalise asked as she glanced about for who else might be available to assist her. “My dear Beaufort saw me as I am.”
“I recognized your charms,” Caroline declared. “You did not recognize mine.”
In response to Caroline’s declaration, Annalise raised her arm and pointed the pistol at her former friend. “I am asking you to place your gun down and surrender.”
Caroline smiled in evident irony. “You never preferred a gun.”
“Such was before I took Beaufort’s acquaintance. My husband does not fear a woman who prefers to do more than drink tea. He is quite the exception in the British aristocracy, and I am blessed to have claimed his affection,” Annalise countered.
Caroline shook her head in denial. “I do not wish to hear of Lord Beaufort’stoleranceof your hoydenish tendencies. Nor will I follow your instructions. You, after all, are nothing to me. Not even a fond memory.”
Annalise calculated the distance and made a slight adjustment inher stance, turning to the side to make herself a smaller target. She knew that Caroline’s gun would shoot straighter, and it would be more accurate than the palm-sized pistol Annalise held. She also realized Caroline wore men’s breeches under her dress so she could move more easily than most females might. It was what Caroline and Annalise had been taught when they were aboard the pirate ships captained by Jacob Moran. Moreover, Annalise had noted the lack of feminine under clothes when she spotted Caroline in the hayloft door, for Caroline had tied the hem of her dress into a sash about her waist.
“I am sorry to hear it, but please know, no matter what transpires between us on this day, you will remain my truest childhood memory.” She fired then—not waiting for their debate to continue. They had thoroughly discussed the merits of their relationship when Annalise was still under Moran’s care. She fired, but she did not aim for Caroline’s heart. Instead, she purposely shot Caroline in the leg, hopefully in her knee, toppling her over and sending Caroline’s shot buried into a nearby tree.
Annalise would not be the one to bring about Caroline’s death, but she also would not permit the woman to know freedom, for Caroline Moran had attempted to kill the two men who formed Annalise’s future.
As Caroline writhed in pain on the ground, Annalise stood over her. “This is twice I have bested you,Cousin.”
Before Annalise could take a step away for freedom, Lord Duncan rushed around the corner of the house only to draw up short when he found Caroline on the ground. “You be fit, lass?” he asked softly as Annalise stepped back against the house to keep her legs under her. He skillfully kicked Caroline’s gun out of reach.
“Most assuredly, my lord,” she said in a voice weaker than she would like, but she knew she had executed what was necessary. “Surely you know by now, mine is the tale of how the ‘princess’ saved herself, not just once, but thrice.”
