Page 45 of Until My Last Breath

But would that be enough for her?

“… a quick death.”

Richard startled at Dr Alden’s word. He had not noticed the man had started talking about the body on the floor.

“I can see it now,” the doctor continued. “The bullet has passed straight through his heart, causing him to die immediately. That explains the amount of blood on Miss Elizabeth’s dress, and the bump on her head. Literally, a dead weight falling on her.”

At the mention of her name, Richard thought that perhaps Elizabeth was taking a little too long to finish whatever she was doing.

As Dr Alden had finish his work with Darcy, Richard went to knock on the door.

There was no reply.

He knocked again, stronger. “Miss Elizabeth?”

No answer.

Dr Alden looked at him alarmed. “Perhaps she has fainted?”

Richard did not think twice and broke through the door.

The dressing room was empty.

~ ♥ ~

Elizabeth had just finished changing her clothes and was braiding her hair. She heard a click behind her head. As she turned, all blood drained from her face.

Wickham.

And he was holding a pistol.

“Shhh. Do not make me use this,” he whispered. “After what you have done to Brown, I will not hesitate to hurt you if necessary.”

With widened eyes, Elizabeth looked at the door, but there was no way for her to escape.

“Come,” he ordered, pointing to the opened panel door behind him. The small corridor was illuminated by a single candle on the floor, which he took after pushing her ahead of him.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Wickham put the candle down. Pulling a dagger from his boot, he grabbed Elizabeth by the neck, placing the sharp edge under her chin, drawing a small trail of blood in her skin. Silently, they approached a soldier who had his back turned to them. With a precise blow, Wickham slammed the handle of his pistol on the man’s nape; after a sharp moan, the unconscious officer fell to the floor.

Once outside, he searched for the horses. He shoved his handkerchief on Elizabeth’s mouth, and dragged her with him while stealing one of them, for he had arrived on foot. He forced her up and mounted behind her, keeping his knife on her belly. They left unseeing, camouflaged by the foggy night.

She was spitting the piece of cloth from her mouth when she heard men shouting behind them. Turning, she saw a rider charging in pursuit. Wickham also noticed their chaser. Pressing the sharp blade against her stomach, he said in her ear, “Do not even think about it!”

Not much further ahead, when she hoped the rider would reach them, Wickham turned his horse in a drastic manoeuvre, taking a side path, covering Elizabeth’s mouth with one of his hands.

Alas. Horse and man passed by them without noticing the subterfuge. Wickham waited a little longer, then released her mouth. “Not a single sound,” he hissed.

Elizabeth had silent tears running down her face. “Why are you doing this to me? You could have escaped. Brown is dead, but you have decided to take me and now have the entire army is after you. Why?”

Wickham breathed deeply a couple of times, nudging his horse in theopposite direction. “Unfortunately, it is too late. I have already sold you, and now I need to deliver you, or I will have…” he trailed off, shivering, thinking of his nether parts. “I know you will bring the lady intact, or you will never have any problem with ladies again…”

“What do you mean by selling and delivering me?” Elizabeth remembered the story on her father’s news sheet. “You cannot possibly be that evil?”

He was quiet for a moment. “I have no choice,” Wickham stated. “My neck is already in the noose. I need to take whatever chance I have. And you, Miss Elizabeth, are my guarantee out of the mess. But I will be careful with you. You surprised me. You shot a man, good heavens! Granted, that scoundrel did not deserve to live, but I am surprised, nevertheless. At least in that I am grateful to you. I will not need to pay Brown back now.”

If only I can survive those pirates now.

By the sudden tension of her body, Wickham knew she was disgusted with him, and he could not blame her for it. He had finally hit the bottom of the pitch.

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