Lord Wakefield shrugged. “It doesn’t matter to me what his reasons are,” he said. “He could lock you up in an asylum for all I care.”
“How could you care so little for me?”
Lord Wakefield’s eyes blazed even as his voice became ice. “You have always been just a nuisance to me. I could no more love you than I could a nail in my boot.” He brought the pistol up. “Now move aside.”
Georgie remained rooted in place. “And if I refuse?”
“Then I will make your fiancé’s death as painful as possible,” Lord Wakefield growled.
William put a hand on her arm. “It is all right,” he said quietly. “You need to stand aside.”
“How can you ask me to do that?” Georgie asked with a glance over her shoulder. “I won’t do that!”
Gently, William turned her to face him. “Whatever happens, I want you to know that I have no regrets.”
Tears came to her eyes. “You were supposed to marry me,” she breathed.
“I know, and nothing would make me happier.”
“How sweet,” Lord Wakefield mocked. “Are you done saying your goodbyes?”
William released Georgie’s arm and took a step to the side, creating distance between them. “This isn’t over,” he told her brother. “I have friends who will see that justice is done.”
“I’m willing to take my chances,” Lord Wakefield said as he aimed his pistol at him.
Georgie watched in shock as Charles leveled his weapon at William, whose face paled but remained unflinching. She reached into the folds of her traveling habit and gripped her muff pistol. She had hoped not to need it, unsure she’d even be able to. She only had one shot, but she knew who her target was. Once she fired this weapon, one of her brother’s men would certainly shoot her, but she would gladly give up her life for William’s.
As she slid the gun past the folds of fabric, she heard someone shout, “Halt!”
Two riders emerged from the trees, and she immediately recognized them as Lords Haddington and Hawthorne.
They trotted past Charles’s men, their faces as serene as if they were on a leisurely ride. They reined in their horses and dismounted, holding the reins loosely in their hands.
“It’s about time you got here,” William said, some of the color returning to his face.
Charles scoffed. “Have you two come to die alongside your friend?”
Lord Hawthorne shook his head. “No, we have come to bargain.”
“With what?” Charles asked. “You are outnumbered!”
“Not for long,” Lord Hawthorne said, and as if on cue the sound of a gun discharging was heard in the distance, followed by one of the men falling dead off his horse, the beast running wildly the other way.
The other two men turned their skittish horses towards the woodlands, their pistols pointed towards the trees.
Another shot was fired, and one of the men reached for his heart before sliding sideways into the dirt.
Lord Haddington spoke up. “I would say that evens things up a bit.”
“But you don’t even have pistols!” Charles cried incredulously.
“We have them, but I do not think we will need them,” Lord Hawthorne replied. “As I said, we are here to bargain.”
“Why would I bargain with you?” Charles asked.
“Because if you don’t, you will die,” Lord Hawthorne asserted.
Charles tightened his hold on his pistol. “Not before I kill Grenton,” he declared. “This man has caused me nothing but trouble!”
