Page 116 of The Lady Needs a Rogue
Vile amusement played on his mouth. “I’ll never forget the look on his face when it dawned on him... when he realized I’d poisoned him. He didn’t know I’d followed him to the theater. By then, he’d begun to feel the effects. He actually dared to strike me.” Aylesworth swept a lock of hair off his temple, revealing the cut the old man had inflicted. “I could have throttled him with his own cane, but it was more satisfying to simply watch the life ebb from his body.”
My God, such an evil man.
Macie’s pulse thundered in her ears. If she cried out, no one would hear her scream.
There was no one to help her. No more time. She had to get away.
She had to save herself.
Her mind raced. If she struck him with the parasol, he would see the blow coming. Standing so close, she could not muster much force. He could easily block the strike.
And then, she would have no chance to escape.
If she had to use the umbrella as a weapon, the element of surprise would work in her favor. She had to put distance between them. That was her only chance.
“You knew my grandfather, better than most. Surely you, of all people, understand he would not have relied on a single vault to secure such crucial documents.”
He regarded her for a long moment. “Where is it?”
“It’s hidden behind a bookshelf.”
“Take me to it.”
She nodded her agreement as she turned toward her grandfather’s desk. “It’s here,” she said. “Behind the barrister bookcase.”
Aylesworth followed her as she crossed the room. Standing before the shelves, she turned to him and affected a look of helplessness. “I cannot move this on my own. I do not possess the strength.”
He put his hands on a shelf and pushed on the heavy shelves. “If you are lying to me—”
Now.
Macie lifted her parasol, holding it rather much like she’d held her brother’s cricket bat when they were children. Mustering as much force as she could, she whipped around.
Crack.
The umbrella connected with the side of his head. Hard. Bellowing in pain, he spun on his heel.
Again.Macie swung the parasol, aiming directly for his face. Its weighted ribs smashed into the bridge of his nose. He cried out.
Run.Still clutching the parasol, Macie darted from the room.
Spewing epithets, he chased her. Closing the distance between them. On her heels.
His hands clamped over her shoulders. She whirled around, freeing herself. With all her might, she plowed the umbrella into his midsection.
“You little shrew,” he murmured, still fighting to control her.
One hand pinned her upper arm. His free hand wrenched the parasol from her grip.
He dragged her to his body, holding her to his chest. “How very foolish.”
“Go to Hades.”
Instep.Mrs. Johnstone’s firm voice echoed in her thoughts. Macie slammed her heel upon his foot. He grunted in pain.Ribs.She drove a sharp elbow into his side. Murmuring foul words in a voice raw with misery.
Bolting down the corridor as if a phantom were on her heels, she ran into a chamber. Before she could secure the door, he blocked it with his arm. Crashing into the heavy panel, he forced his way into the room.
Blood streamed from his nose. Rage flared in his eyes as he ripped his tie from his throat.
