Page 48 of The Countess Caper

It was very, very satisfying.

He screamed. Shrilly.

Also very satisfying.

“Serves you right, you old lech,” Rue shouted. She didn’t even try to disguise her voice.

“Stand down, Stanhope,” Tessa ordered him. “Or the next bullet finds your spleen.”

She was a bit proud of that threat, actually. It was clear, concise. Vivid.

If only she actually knew where one’s spleen resided inside the body.

Stanhope made a strangled sound. Tessa moved into view, keeping her pistol at the ready. “Your pouch, sir. Coins, bank notes. That pretty cravat pin.”

He sucked in an offended breath. “My grandfather was given this pin by the King of England.”

“Excellent. It should fetch a pretty penny, then.”

“I’ll see you hanged for this.”

“Will you? I assure you, I’ve never heard that before.” She whistled once. It was piercing. A command. On the first try. She was rather pleased with herself.

Rue shot at the carriage. Near the carriage. Close enough.

Lord Stanhope turned purple. Oh dear. She hoped he wouldn’t faint before handing her his money. She had no wish to rifle through the sweaty man’s pockets. “My associate is rather impatient,” she said. “And he only gives one warning. Your gold, if you please.”

“I’m an earl!”

“You’re a blackguard and a lecher, and you prey on young women. You’re a widower three times over, each bride younger than the last.”

“What are you implying?”

“Be thankful your money is all I’m taking.” She reached inside and poked him with the end of her pistol.

He gulped.

“You are boring me, earl.”

He shoved a pouch of coins at her, then folded bank notes, and clawed at his cravat pin with shaking fingers. “It’s all I have on me.”

She dearly wanted to take his carriage and his horses and his clothes and leave him in his smalls in the middle of the road. She would have, were it easier to hide a carriage with an earl’s crest on the door. Or to fence it. She eased back before she decided to try it anyway. “Go ahead,” she called out to the coachman.

He dragged the branches out of the way and climbed back onto the box. “I don’t have any money,” he said.

“Even if you did, I wouldn’t want it. Walk on.”

Tessa waited until the carriage rounded the corner, until the sound of hooves faded, and then waited a little bit longer before pulling down her scarf and grinning into the treetop. “Well done.”

“I was aiming for rock. We need better weapons.”

“Don’t be sour. We have”—Tessa dismounted, peering into the pouch—“enough to feed two more women for several months.”

Rue scrambled to the ground. “Enough for a cod’s head pie and onions for Holly?”

“Enough for two. Although why?”

Rue shrugged. “She craves them.”