Page 90 of Mail-Order Viscountess

A dark shape lunged from the trees, but she lost sight of it as the horse spun the other direction.

“Ho!”

That voice.

Even through the pain surging up her arms, that voice calmed inside her.

Then the horse slowed. Halted. The shots around them had ceased too.

“Easy there.” Thomas’s voice lowered, turning to a soothing croon. “Easy now. I’ve got you.”

She couldn’t see him—not with her face pressed against the horse’s shoulder, her arms trussed up on either side, blocking her vision.

But then a boot crunched in the snow close to her.

“Kate, are you hurt?” He kept that same calming tone. His voice not letting out an ounce of fear.

Something pressed against the rope around her wrists. Pulling it tighter for an instant.

Then the pressure released, freeing her hands from the saddle completely. In the same instant, an arm wrapped around her, scooping her up. Keeping her from falling to the snow.

Her entire body sagged, her legs buckling beneath her.

His arm tightened around her, his other joining as he pulled her close. Her back tightened against his chest. Thomas. His strength wrapped fully around her.

Then he slid to his knees, sitting her on his lap. “Let me get you free.”

His hands fumbled in her hair. That awful gag.

The fabric pulled tighter. Then loosened completely.

Pain seared through her mouth, burning the corners of her lips. The remnants of that foul taste lingered, but at least she could get a clean breath now without smelling sweat and dirt.

Then Thomas reached around in front of her, his arms wrapping her as he gripped the rope still binding her wrists with one hand. The other wielded a blade that sliced through the cord in a single sawing motion.

As he peeled the rope off, a fresh burning stung the raw, open wounds the ties had created.

Her hands trembled. Her entire body trembled.

“I’m sorry.” His voice broke on the words. “I’m so sorry, Kate.”

Then his arms were around her completely, turning her sideways against him. He crushed her against his chest with a desperation that matched the wild pounding of her own heart. She turned in his embrace, burying her face against his neck, and the tears she’d been holding back finally broke free.

“I’ve got you.” He murmured the words against her hair. “I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

Safe. The word didn’t quite make sense yet. Her body still vibrated with terror, every nerve screaming that danger lurked just beyond the trees.

The sounds of men drifted around them. No more gunfire. Just grunts and low voices. Had the Balfours won completely, or did some of the killers escape? Maybe even now, they were taking aim from the trees.

She pulled back just enough to scan the clearing. “Are they—? There were seven of them.”

Thomas’s arms loosened but didn’t release her completely. He turned them both so she could see the scene unfolding around them.

Enoch knelt beside a man in the snow, tying his hands to his feet, from what she could tell.

A few steps away, James worked over another form. Several bodies lay strewn about the rest of the clearing, but she didn’t let herself linger long enough to see if they were dead or tied.

“Enoch!” Thomas called out instead of answering her. “We got all seven?”