Page 57 of Snowbound Surrender
Could it be?
But yes! For here were Lady Quamby, Lady Fenton, and the Colonel, bursting through windows and doors like an army of avenging angels.
But all Arabella could do was stare at Nicholas as he struggled with Algernon, her mind reeling with the magnitude of what had just occurred.
The snow continued to fall outside, heavy and relentless, as if the storm that had brought them together was determined to see their story through to its end.
And perhaps, she thought with dawning hope, it wouldn’t be an ending after all.
Perhaps it would be a beginning.
CHAPTER 19
“Arabella! Come away now!”
The voice belonged to Lady Quamby, who had burst through the drawing room doors with Fanny and Colonel Shankshaft close behind her. The crash of breaking glass suggested they had not relied solely on conventional entrances.
Arabella found herself swept up in a whirlwind of activity as Nicholas hauled himself to his feet, blood trickling from a cut on his lip where Algernon had managed to land a blow. Her captor lay groaning on the floor, apparently stunned by Nicholas’s final punch.
“The documents?” Lady Fenton asked urgently.
“Burned,” Nicholas replied grimly, wiping blood from his mouth. “Along with any evidence he held over her.”
“But there may be copies—” Arabella began.
“We’ll find them,” Nicholas assured her, his eyes blazing with protective fury. “Every last scrap of paper that bastard has used against you will be destroyed.”
Lady Quamby had thrown a warm cloak around Arabella’s shoulders and was gently but firmly guiding her toward the door. “Come, my dear. You need to be away from this place.”
“But Nicholas?—”
“Will follow shortly,” he said, though his gaze remained fixed on Algernon with obvious distrust. “I need to ensure this is properly finished first.”
Colonel Shankshaft moved to Nicholas’s side. “We’ll stay and secure any remaining evidence. Lady Quamby, get Lady Lushington to safety.”
Arabella wanted to protest, wanted to stay and ensure Nicholas wasn’t harmed, but her legs felt unsteady and her mind still reeled from the rapid succession of revelations. She allowed herself to be led from the house that had been her prison, out into the cold night air where snow continued to fall in gentle, persistent flakes.
The Earl of Quamby’s carriage waited in the drive, its interior warm and welcoming after the horror of the past hours. As Lady Quamby helped her inside, Arabella caught sight of a familiar figure on horseback near the gates.
Her brother?
James, mounted and alert, was clearly standing guard.
“James?” she called out weakly as Nicholas handed her up into the carriage.
“He’s been waiting,” Nicholas explained quickly. “When we told him the truth about what you’d done for him, he insisted on coming. Said he had to prove his loyalty to the sister who had sacrificed everything for him.”
Tears sprang to Arabella’s eyes. Her brother, good-hearted but often oblivious, had finally understood. He had come to help rescue her, just as she had once rescued him.
Nicholas squeezed her hand. “I’ll join you soon. I promise.”
As he spoke, a commotion erupted behind them. Algernon had apparently recovered enough to launch himself from the house in one final, desperate attack.
“Look out!” James shouted from his position, spurring his horse forward.
Nicholas spun around just as Algernon threw himself at him with the fury of a man who had nothing left to lose. They crashed to the ground in a tangle of limbs, rolling dangerously close to the carriage wheels.
“Drive!” Nicholas shouted to the coachman. “Get her away from here!”
