Page 87 of Her Duke in Shining Armor
“I need you to go to France and retrieve a man, Hamilton Burchell, the Earl of Norwich. He is the father to the late Duchess of Brisdane, Lady Elizabeth.”
Aaron sat there, expecting the bounty hunter to ask him why this man was important but the silence dragged on until McGowan snorted, “Yer Grace, I make it a point not to ask too many questions. The less I know is better for me.”
“Straight to the point then,” Aaron appreciated the man’s candor. “A thousand pounds should get you to the south of France, Avignon, I believe, and back. Take care to have him in good condition when he arrives and then you’ll receive another thousand, agreed?”
“More than agreed, Yer Grace,” McGowan shook his hand with a vigorous pump.
Aaron fished out the packet of money and handed it over, “Good man. But be warned, I will take reprise on being cheated.”
“I assure you,” McGowan’s words were sincere. “I’ll get tha’ job done, Yer Grace.”
He reached up to tip his hat before he remembered that he was not wearing one and with a small laugh, left the pub with a farewell. The evening had come faster than Aaron had expected, and the dark clouds above were being spurred on by the rumbles of thunder he heard in the east.
“Home,” Aaron ordered curtly to the driver.
Settling in, he felt satisfaction in knowing that Eleanor’s grandfather would soon land on English soil. They would get more information from him. He leaned back, thinking on the lovely smile Eleanor would have when she heard of his success and even more, seeing her grandfather.
It took a good while before he realized that the neighborhood they were driving through was a strange one and he frowned. Where was this place? He banged on the roof and the carriage halted to a sudden stop. Nothing came after that and, frustrated, Aaron shoved the door open and hopped out.
“Barns, what is—”
The driver turned to him, body and face petrified in fear, and then Aaron shifted to see a man, holding a pistol to his driver’s head.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
“Is that really the question you should be asking, guv?” the masked man sneered.
Aaron’s teeth grit. His fingers were itching to yank the door open and grab his pistol but the man sensed that and held the gun in a deadlock to him.
“What do you want from me?”
“I don’t want anything from you, guv, it’s the man I work fer who wants your head,” the man said. “And since they weren’t to be any witnesses…” the pistol was cocked and as Barns’ mouth opened in fright.
“Y-you said you’d let me go if I d-didn’t make any trouble,” the poor man stuttered.
“Did I?”
“Leave him be,” Aaron tried to negotiate. “The man has a wife and three children. He’s not who you want.”
“But he will cause trouble,” the hijacker said.
“But you said—”
“I lied,” the blackguard sneered and a loud shot rammed itself into his driver’s head.
Aaron barely avoided the spray of blood and was in motion immediately as the pistol was now turned on him. He lurched himself back and yanked the door open so he could get his pistol when the attacker launched over to the ground, and forgetting the door, Aaron tackled the bastard, slamming his opponent’s body against the frame.
The pistol clattered out of sight, but Aaron took no pleasure in seeing it. His body was in full-on defense mode and delivered a set of hard blows to the man’s middle. The cutthroat replied in kind and landed a head blow, stunting Aaron and letting stars erupt across Aaron’s vision.
Through his pain, Aaron lunged at blackguard who had retrieved the gun and was fumbling to reload. He threw himself fully, slamming the man to the ground and fought back with feral desperation. Aaron dragged the mask off and barely got a glimpse of a man with a half-moon scar bisecting his left eye before the man scrambled for the gun and aimed.
Pain erupted in Aaron’s upper arm but he managed to fight through the pain and blood to land a blow that rendered the man unconscious. With a low pain-filled curse, Aaron sat back and tugged off his neckcloth and bound his arm, wounded with a deep enough gunshot, with his soiled cravat.
He managed to loosen one horse and take its ropes to bind the man. His breath was short and static, but he managed enough strength to hoist the man into the carriage and lock it before heaving himself into the driver’s seat and slapping the one horse into action.
It was slow going with pain spiking and ebbing in his arm but thank God there were no interruptions from inside the carriage. He spotted the main road and directed the horse down it, praying with every second for a constable to emerge and help him out. The roads were empty, and Aaron was losing hope when a man, simply dressed like a farmer, came around a corner.
“You there!” Aaron called as loud as he could with black dots blinking at the edges of his eyes. “Help!”
