Page 75 of The Highlander’s Improper Wife

Taran shot into the corridor, then came to a skidding halt thirty feet from them, a pistol aimed at them. Caroline darted a glance at the open door. Where was Lord Edmonds? A sob lodged in her throat. She had counted on the viscount being there. Etherton would be far more nervous at facing two men, instead of one.

“Drop it,” Etherton ordered.

Taran’s gaze flicked from the gun at her head to her face, and she read that he was familiar with the weapon.

“Drop it,” her uncle again ordered.

Taran tossed the weapon down. It hit the stone with a clatter and skidded several feet towards them.

His eyes shifted behind her. “Come to finish the job yourself, Etherton?”

“If you had taken your wife in hand, she would be safely in your bed, instead of here.”

Taran’s gaze remained neutral, but Caroline sensed he didn’t disagree. Hysteria blurred her vision. She clawed at the hand banded around her waist. Her left elbow bumped something hard at Uncle’s waist.

“What do you want?” Taran demanded.

Caroline froze. Was that a second pistol in her uncle’s waistband?

“It is no longer a matter of what I want,” he replied, “but what I need.”

Taran nodded. “And you need me dead. Caroline, as well.”

“Caroline can live.”

Taran’s gaze didn’t break from his. “So long as she remains in a laudanum-induced state?”

“She will serve a purpose.”

Her mind raced. That was a second pistol stuffed inside the waistband. He surely had a third pistol in his boot. But he would never be able to get to it before Taran was upon him. If she grabbed the pistol from his waistband, he would be forced to fire the weapon at her temple—if she didn’t get a round off into his belly first. Either way, Taran would be safe.

“Patterson knows you are here,” she blurted. “He will inform the sheriff.”

“Good,” Etherton replied. “That will aid the story that I fought to save you both from your attacker.”

Her heart thundered. He had yet to cock the pistol. How fast was he? Faster than her.

But that was of no consequence. She thrashed. Taran took a step forward.

Etherton dug the pistol into her temple. “Halt.”

Caroline yanked the gun from his waistband as she rammed her other fisted hand into the arm holding the gun to her head. The gun jostled away from her. She pulled back the hammer and jammed the barrel against his side.

Taran lunged.

She fired.

The report exploded in her ears. Warm liquid bathed her side. Etherton stretched his hand forward, the pistol pointed at Taran.

“No!” she screamed.

Taran halted.

Time seemed to slow as her uncle’s thumb pulled back the hammer and she reached for his arm. Uncle shoved her. She propelled forward and hit the stone, shoulder first. Pain radiated up her arm, blood stained the bandage covering her injury. She dropped to her knees.

Another shot sounded. Confusion rolled over Caroline. Etherton stiffened. The pistol went limp in his hand, then clattered to the stone not far from Taran’s gun. Etherton slumped against the wall, then crashed to the floor.

Caroline gasped at sight of Patterson, only the half of his body that pointed the revolver visible around the edge of the wall at the end of the hallway. His arm dropped to his side and he stepped into full view.