Page 108 of A Scottish Bride for the Duke
Adrian gave a curt nod, scanning the fog for any signs of movement. Briggs had been murdered just minutes ago, which meant his assailant was probably somewhere nearby.
“Give me the gun, Isobel,” he said, holding out his hand. “And stay by my side.”
For once, she didn’t argue with him, depositing the weapon into his hand. He wrapped his fingers around the pearl-inlaid butt and exhaled.
Time to leave.
He could find a way of getting back at Moreton some other time. Someone would have some information. Briggs wasn’t the kind of man who kept his mouth shut about his successes. That wasn’t how gang leaders worked.
“When I nod, you must run back to the carriage,” he murmured into her ear. “I’ll be right behind you. Understand?”
She sent him a clear glance that told him everything he needed to know about his wife’s intelligence; she had suspected that there was someone else here, the murderer, and she understood the necessity for this.
“On the count of three. One. Two. Thr?—”
“Ah, Somerset. I had thought you might come here, but I didn’t think you’d be foolish enough to bring your wife.”
At the sound of Moreton’s voice, Adrian stiffened. Adrenaline charged through him as he slowly turned to face the owner of the voice. Moreton stood casually, a gun in one hand, pointed squarely at his chest.
He stepped a little in front of Isobel, whose hands clutched at his coat.
“Moreton,” he said, far more calmly than he felt. If he had just been here alone, he wouldn’t have had to worry about Isobel. “I presume you were the one to kill Briggs.”
Moreton gave a cold, cruel smile. “Couldn’t have him blabbing his mouth off and ruining my reputation, now, could I?”
“Ye bastard!” Isobel cried. “What of that poor girl ye murdered?”
“Oh, that.” He waved a hand. “She was an inconvenience. As you are, my dear. Really, it’s wonderful that you both came here together. Otherwise, I would have had to kill your husband here and then go after you, which as I’m sure you can understand would have been a lot more work. Too much effort, in truth.”
“I can’t believe ye,” Isobel breathed.
“It’s easy enough, my dear. Want something badly enough, and you’ll be prepared to do anything necessary to gain it. For example, what would you do to protect your wife, Somerset?”
Adrian reached a hand behind him to encourage Isobel to be quiet. The last thing he wanted was for her to pose more of a threat than he did. Moreton was unpredictable and a cold-hearted killer. Adrian couldn’t risk her encouraging him to do more harm to her.
“I think you know I’d do anything to protect her,” Adrian said calmly.
“Including die?”
“I hope it won’t come to that.”
“Oh, it will.” A smile touched Moreton’s face, and Adrian knew without a doubt what was about to happen.
It was as though the world slowed around him, giving him the time he needed to drag Isobel out of the way.
The pistol cracked, the shot firing through the air. Burning pain erupted on Adrian’s arm.
“Adrian!” Isobel gasped.
Yet when he glanced down, it was the slightest scratch. The bullet had cut across the flesh of his upper arm, burning through his clothes, but although he could already feel the blood soaking down his arm, it was unlikely to leave any lasting damage.
Moreton moved the gun again, but Adrian was already moving, his own weapon coming up. He steadied his arm, aiming just above Moreton’s shoulder. The other man’s composure broke, and he flinched away, practically dropping his weapon as he did so.
Adrian’s suspicion was confirmed: the man was a coward. Happy to strike in the darkness, happy to pay someone else to do his dirty work for him, but useless in a fight.
Luckily for Adrian, his father’s beatings had given him a tolerance for pain, and he barely noticed the wound on his arm as he flung himself at Moreton.
The two men collided, and Moreton’s hold on his pistol slipped. The gun scattered across the ground, firing again.
