Page 106 of An Unwilling Earl
“Threw a shoe,” the hansom cab driver said when Jacob approached.
“Do you need help?” Jacob didn’t know the first thing about shoeing a horse, but he thought he should at least offer his assistance.
“Nah.” The driver straightened and brushed his hands on his trousers.
“Well, thank you for the ride.” Jacob handed him a few coins more than the cab fare to hopefully offset the cost of a new shoe.
The man nodded and tipped his cap to him. “My thanks, m’lord.” He jumped up into the box, and the carriage rumbled down the quiet street.
Jacob tiredly pulled himself up the steps to the front door. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed, tug Charlotte close, and fall asleep. The ball had been more exhausting than he’d thought, but he was pleased with the results. He’d met some important men. Men who would be good allies as he navigated the waters of this earldom. And it pleased him immensely that Charlotte had made friends, thanks to Lady Armbruster and Lady Chadley.
As time went on, he was becoming more and more accustomed to his new station in life. With his solicitor’s background and his new title, maybe he could make some real changes in this world. Maybe he could help clean up the rookeries or create more desirable jobs and opportunities for those who felt hopeless.
The possibilities were endless, and he looked forward to working with Charlotte to see his ideas become reality.
The thought of creating a new life with Charlotte, one he’d never envisioned a month ago, gave him a sense of worth and accomplishment like he’d never felt before. He’d loved his career as a solicitor, but he was beginning to realize that maybe his life was meant for more than that and he should embrace the change, instead of fighting it.
“Ashland!”
Jacob turned to find O’Leary jogging toward him, breathless, disheveled.
“She’s dead,” O’Leary said, stopping before him.
“Who’s dead?”
“Lady Morris. He killed her, and he’s missing. We can’t find Edmund. We’ve been looking all night. I sent a man here to watch your house.” Both O’Leary and Jacob looked around but didn’t see anyone else.
“Charlotte.” Both men pushed through the front door and raced up the steps.
He heard athudfrom above, then heard her cry out, followed by anotherthud.
Jacob ran up the rest of the steps, followed closely by O’Leary, pulling his pistol from his pocket as he ran. He burst through their bedroom door to find Charlotte racing toward him, but there was a man in the way. A rather large, tall man, swinging a knife toward Charlotte.
Edmund.
Jacob lifted the pistol and aimed, but he knew he didn’t have time to get off a shot, and it could possibly hit Charlotte instead of Edmund.
Jacob threw himself forward, pushing Charlotte out of the way as the knife arced down. He tried to twist out of the way, but the knife sliced through his new formalwear and ripped through his left side. Hot pain shot through him. As he fell he pushed Edmund with all of his might.
Edmund tumbled to the ground but was instantly lumbering to his feet as Jacob searched for the pistol he had dropped. His entire left side felt as if it was on fire, and he couldn’t move his arm or his leg. He tried to roll, to search for the pistol. Edmund was already on his feet, the knife still in his hands as he advanced on Charlotte.
Where the hell was O’Leary?
On hands and knees, Charlotte scrambled for the gun a few feet away. She picked it up, clutching it with both hands as she aimed at Edmund.
“Squeeze,” Jacob said. “The trigger. Squeeze.”
She closed her eyes, grit her teeth, and braced her body. The bang was loud. Edmund grunted, looked at Charlotte in surprise, and put a hand to the gaping hole in his chest before he sank slowly to his knees, listed to the side, and collapsed.
Charlotte dropped the pistol and crawled to Jacob.
O’Leary finally entered, his own pistol drawn, and he looked at the wreckage before him. Jacob realized that while it had seemed like long minutes from the time he entered the room, it had really only been seconds.
He was beginning to go numb on his left side and knew that couldn’t be good. Blood poured from a long gash across his torso, turning his once pristine white shirt a deep scarlet.
O’Leary checked Edmund’s chest for a beating heart and shook his head.
Edmund was staring sightlessly at the ceiling.
