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But where was the attacker?
And did he mean her harm too?
She’d have to take her chances. She wasn’t staying with Ox.
Lily ducked back, slinking down the two steps to the ground. Stealing food for over a year had made her good at sneaking about, and she’d use that skill now.
The trees were ten feet away, underbrush making them ideal for hiding, and once she’d reached their cover, she should be able to hide.
She’d stay curled in a bush for hours if she had to. She’d practiced that too.
On hands and feet, she scuttled toward the woods, hoping to remain out of Ox’s and the shooter’s sight for as long as possible.
She nearly screamed when another shot rang out, but she trapped the scream in her throat.
Lily had been happy before her new brothers had arrived. Well, not happy exactly, but good enough.
She’d found a job, secured a hut, and had regular meals. Life had become…stable. Something she’d lacked after her mother’s death. To be fair, she’d not even had that sort of regularity before her mother’s passing.
Lily should have known better than to search for more. What did she think was going to happen when she rode off with two men she hardly knew? That they’d help her marry? That she’d have her own family, where there was enough money and food, and a man who actually cared for her?
It wasn’t that she hadn’t had a few offers.
Even destitute as she was, Lily knew men found her attractive. And more than one had offered her a brighter future.
But they looked at her in such a way…
They wanted something from her.
And she never quite knew the cost of giving in to them. But a few interactions had shown her enough to know she’d not like whatever they wished from her.
Her mother had given in to her father. The paramour of a duke, and for a time she and her mother been well cared for. But eventually…he’d grown tired of them both. And now her mother was dead and Lily was once again homeless.
Now was not the time for such memories, however. She’d have lots of time alone in the woods to ruminate on the past once she’d escaped. Then she could decide how she’d stop repeating either her mother’s mistakes or her own.
With that in mind, she kept moving.
Another pistol fired, and she heard the rumble of Ox’s feet as he came round the carriage. Was he looking for a better shot? Checking on her?
Lily, only a few feet from the woods, scrambled, trying to cover the rest of the ground—but her foot caught on a rock and she planted face-down in the dirt, her cheek scraping the gravel.
She cried out, just as a hand—that anvil of a hand—grabbed a fistful of her dress and hauled her up off the ground to her feet. “Where do you think you’re going?” he growled into her ear, spitting as he spoke.
Her features pulled taut with fear and distaste. She made no answer as she attempted to catch her breath. She’d been so close.
He didn’t wait for an explanation as he dragged her toward the carriage. “You’ll stay put or I’ll shoot you myself.”
And then he tossed her into the carriage.
She landed with a hard thump and a cry of pain, her arm, chest, and hip aching from the jolt as she hit the floor.
But she hardly had time to recover when another shot rang out, closer than before.
“Ah!” Ox cried. She turned in time to see him stumble back, blood already seeping through his shirt.
He just kept on his feet as she lifted herself out of the heap she’d landed in and back into a crouch. Did she try to run again? Get past him?
Wait and see if he died?
