Page 61 of The Return of the Rake

King moved to iron railings at the edge of the promenade and looked out at the sea.

“I have many plans,” he said quietly. “But they all revolve around you. So, you must listen and decide what things you like, and which you do not, for nothing is set in stone and cannot be changed. I want you in my life, Anne, and I will do whatever you need to see that happen but know that I would not rein in your ambitions or do anything to stop you from fulfilling them. If you want a dozen hotels, a hundred, I shall build them for you. In fact, I have already had plans drawn up, plans which you must approve or change as you wish. I’m a wealthy man, and every penny I have is at your disposal. I’d like nothing better than to be a part of your grand future, to do my part to see you achieve everything, if you’ll let me?”

Anne gazed up at him, her eyes sparkling.

“It’s not a proposal of marriage,” he said, hoping that look meant everything he wished for but needing to be certain. “For I have not earned the right to ask that question yet, but I shall ask, Anne, so if this is not what you wish for, if you want to stop this thing now before people start to talk in earnest—”

“Don’t—” she said, sounding breathless as she gazed up at him. “Don’t stop.”

He smiled then, feeling the way his lips quirked irrepressibly as happiness bubbled up inside him. “I shan’t stop,” he promised. “Not all the time you want me here, beside you.”

“Always,” she said, daring to reach out and grasp his hand. “Always and forever.”

King’s heart leapt for joy, but he glanced around, not wanting people to gossip about her until all was settled, but as he did, he saw Alfred Marwick hurrying out of his house, his hand raised in greeting.

“King!” he shouted, threading his way through the crowd towards them. Somehow, since the soldiers had left, the place had become even busier as the sunshine drew people out of doors to enjoy the day and do their shopping.

King sighed at the young man’s terrible timing. “Damn and blast.”

Anne just laughed, correctly judging just how frustrated he was by the interruption. King laughed too, squeezing her fingers before regretfully letting them go as he turned around to face Alfie.

He did not know precisely what caught his attention, only that the all too familiar prickle at the back of his neck boded ill. Alfie was almost upon them, and King looked around, certain something was wrong but unable to figure out what. Then he glimpsed a face in the crowd, the rat-like face of a man he recognised well enough to know nothing good could come of his being here.

“Get down!” he shouted, pressing Anne to the ground as she cried out in surprise and shock. “Alfie!” he yelled, lunging forward to grab the young man and bearing him to the floor in the instant a shot rang out.

Screams pierced the air, making King’s head ring as a sensation like fire exploded in his right arm.

Cursing in a manner he felt certain he’d need to apologise to Anne for later, he surged to his feet. Hands caught at him, trying to hold him back, but he shook them off, rushing through the crowd in pursuit of a man he knew worked for Silas Mourney. The man turned tail, running towards the horse he’d left waiting and climbing up, kicking the horse into motion, but King grabbed at him, grasping hold of his coat and pulling him from the saddle with a heavy thud.

“Leave go of me! This ain’t your fight, King,” the devil growled as he threw a punch that failed to connect with King’s jaw.

“Son of a bitch!” he exclaimed, and delivered a blow so hard the man’s head snapped backwards. “You fired into a street crowded with women and children!” It had been so close to Anne, King felt he might never sleep soundly again as he relived the moments in his mind.

“Lemme go!” the man snarled, trying to sink his teeth into King’s hand to make him release his hold. King smacked him, annoyed by such tactics, and turned him roughly over, pinning his arms together and holding him down.

“Shut your mouth,” King growled furiously. “You ought never to have come here, but you tell Silas, this town is under my protection now, and that includes Alfred Marwick. If he or any of his men dare to come slinking about here, I’ll deal with them a lot less kindly than I’m about to deal with you. So, I’d hold your damned tongue if I were you and go along with my story.”

“What’s this? Stand back! Make way there—”

King looked up at the clatter of hooves, confessing himself relieved to find Captain Underwood had returned with his men.

“Good day, captain,” he said politely. “This madman fired into the crowd. I believe he’s been drinking. He said he saw giant shadows running about devouring people. I’m afraid he’s quite out of his senses.”

The captain looked down in disgust at the fellow on the ground, who had been staring at King with mingled fury and indignation. Quickly realising it was his best option, however, he got into the role by groaning and pretending to swoon.

“Wretched creature,” the captain said, shaking his head before calling for his men to come and deal with the fellow. King stood up, brushing himself down and looking around for Anne. She burst through the crowd, running towards him.

“Jasper! Oh, Jasper, whatever has happened? Oh, you’ve been shot!” Anne cried, her lovely face blanching of all colour as she saw the blood oozing from the wound on his arm.

King glanced at it, reminded by her words that it stung like a bitch. “It’s nothing serious,” he said gruffly, for it wasn’t the first time he’d been shot, though he very much hoped it would be the last.

Anne looked little comforted, but he winked at her and patted her arm, all the reassurance he dared offer her as the entire town seemed to be crowded around them now.

“King.”

Alfred Marwick’s voice was quiet and not altogether steady. The young man was white as a sheet and looked like he might throw up at any moment. “You saved—”

“Hush,” King said sharply. “The poor fellow was quite out of his head with drink. He thought there was a monster eating people,” he said, with as much confidence as he could say the ridiculous words. In his experience, people would believe anything if you said it with enough authority.