Page 50 of An Execution, an Earl, and Miss Hughes
“You think I’d do something like go and die before I’ve married you?” Lucian grinned, “Have faith, Miss Hughes.”
He gave her a wink, turned his steed, and galloped back toward Long Acres. As he approached, he spotted Lord Crabb and Mr Marrowbone rounding the corner on the other side of the gate. Lucian took a deep breath, leaned low against the saddle, and kicked his heels.
Bramble galloped forward at speed. Just as Lucian reached the men on the other side, another shot rang out, this time hitting the other pillar and showering them with dust.
“Mrs Vickery is hosting a shooting party with us as the game,” Lucian said, by way of grim explanation.
“She’s deranged,” Crabb muttered, ducking instinctively as another shot rang out.
“She’s armed and desperate,” Lucian said, as he clutched hard on the reins—even Bramble was getting nervous. “MissHughes confronted her and she’s confessed to both murders. She’s trying to shoot her way to freedom, we’ll have to think of a plan.”
To Lucian’s surprise, it was Mr Marrowbone who dismounted first.
“All I need is a good vantage point,” the constable said, hoisting his shotgun and eyeing the nearest tree. Before they could stop him, he had trundled over and begun climbing with remarkable agility for a man of his bulk.
“Marrowbone!” Crabb hissed, aghast. “Get down at once. We don’t need to add you to the list of the fallen.”
The constable, now perched on the crook of a sturdy limb, gave a cheerful wave with his free hand.
“I was a sniper in the Flanders campaign under Wellington,” he called lazily. “Which no one seems to recall. Musket ball to the buttock put an end to my glory days.”
Lucian stared up at him. “You were in the army?”
“For three whole months,” Mr Marrowbone called back. “Until my backside gave in to the pressure.”
With a grin, he cocked the barrel of his shotgun and took aim. A moment later, a sharp report cracked through the air, followed by a startled, furious howl from beyond the gate.
“Winged her,” Marrowbone called with satisfaction. “She won’t be shooting at anyone else for a long time. Now, shall we go collect our murderer? I don’t know about you two but I’d like to get this wrapped up quickly so I can get back to my pint.”
The constable began his descent from his perch, a little slower than the ascent, but no less impressive for a man of fifty-odd years.
“I’ll assist Mr Marrowbone,” Lord Crabb told Lucian firmly as they awaited his return to earth. “You fetch Miss Hughes and take her back home. Send reinforcements, I feel that shot is the only work we’ll get out of Marrowbone for the day.”
“The man deserves a year of rest after it,” Lucian admitted grudgingly.
“Indeed,” the viscount looked pained. “Just don’t tell him that or he’ll take it as a command.”
With a grin, Lucian gave Crabb a hearty slap on the shoulder, called congratulations to Marrowbone, then took off to find Sarah. He could not bring himself to glance up the driveway of Long Acres as he passed, though he could well imagine the grisly scene.
Lucian found Sarah where he had left her, standing in the shelter of the hedgerow, her arms wrapped tight about herself. At the sight of him, she gave a cry and hurried forward, but he was already off the horse and striding toward her.
Without a word, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her thoroughly, his whole body alive with relief and joy . She clung to him, one hand resting on his chest, above his heart. It seemed to Lucian that she needed to be reassured it still beat within.
It beat for her now, Lucian knew.
“I love you,” he whispered against her lips, glad to say it aloud.
There was a short pause, during which Lucian questioned everything he thought he knew about women, including the woman standing before him. He also managed to fit in a few epithets directed Mrs Mifford’s way, before she replied.
“I love you too,” she said, her voice soft but sure—halting Lucian’s tumble into doubt.
Lucian heaved a sigh of relief as his fears evaporated. There was nothing like putting one’s heart in someone else’s hands to bring on a momentary lapse in confidence.
He then drew her close again, just because he could. His lips found hers, soft with need and desire. His hand crept to the small of her back and he pulled her against him, at last safe enough to enjoy the feel of her warm body pressed against his.
When he realised he was enjoying the moment a little too much to be proper, he reluctantly let her go.
He pressed a kiss to her brow, stepped back just far enough to lift her into the saddle, then swung himself up behind her.
