Page 62 of Tempting a Lonely Lord
No!
She tried to fight, tried to force herself to stay conscious. But the laudanum dragged her under, her limbs going slack as darkness swallowed her whole.
~*~
Chapter Twenty-Two
Bridgewater Manor
William and Michael had just crested the hill dividing the two estates when shrill cries and panicked screams split the air. A horse.
Then he saw it—a thick plume of black smoke billowing from the Bridgewater stables.
“My God! The stable is on fire.” William’s pulse thundered. He turned to Michael. “Ride to the main house—now! Alert everyone. We need all hands to put out the fire and get the animals to safety. Make sure no one stays inside in case the flames spread.”
Michael gripped his reins tightly. “But I can help—”
“Youarehelping.” William’s voice was firm. “We need the household warned immediately, and I can’t have you near the fire. Now go!”
Michael hesitated for only a second before nodding, then spurred his pony toward the house at a gallop.
William didn’t waste another moment. He swung off his horse and ran toward the stables, the acrid scent of smoke burning his lungs.
Through the thick haze, movement near the paddock caught his eye.
Winterborne.
The stallion had broken free, his muscles taut with fury. His ears were pinned back, nostrils flared, teeth bared as he lunged at Baron Darkmoor. The massive horse snapped at the man’s arm, forcing him to drop Bella to the ground.
But the baron wasn’t safe yet.
Winterborne reared, hooves pounding the dirt with furious intensity. Darkmoor staggered back, eyes wide withshock, struggling to stay upright. He was strong, but against the unrelenting wrath of an enraged stallion, he was powerless.
William surged forward, his only thought—Bella.
As he drew closer, he saw Lacey dragging herself toward her mistress, barking hoarsely, as if trying to wake her. When Bella didn’t stir, the dog let out a distressed whimper and curled over her, a small, fierce protector shielding her from further harm.
“She’s mine, you stupid beast,” the baron spat, breathless and enraged.
William’s blood turned to ice as Darkmoor yanked a pistol from his coat and aimed it at Winterborne’s head.
“I should have killed you a year ago,” Darkmoor growled, his face contorted with fury, his cheeks flushed a deep crimson.
William didn’t think—he moved.
In an instant, he grabbed the baron by the collar and yanked him back, throwing his full weight into a punch that smashed against Darkmoor’s face. The baron staggered, dazed—but before he could recover, William tackled him to the ground, fists flying.
Blow after blow, William drove his knuckles into the baron’s face. He barely registered the crunch of breaking bone beneath his fists—he just kept hitting.
“I’ll get Bella out of here!” Stephen’s voice cut through the chaos.
With one final, bone-shattering punch, William knocked the baron unconscious. He turned just in time to see Stephen pass Bella into the waiting arms of a footman.
“My God, man! We saw the smoke and came to help,” Lucas called, reaching William’s side. “I brought Franklin and your footmen. Harriett is organizing the fire brigade, and we’ve sent Franklin for the doctor.”
“No!” Stephen’s scream split the air.
William spun just in time to see Darkmoor grabbing his pistol again. The barrel lifted—aimed directly at William.
