Page 79 of His Wicked Secret
The soldiers all turned toward him, laughing. One man, the captain, stepped forward, his cold eyes settling on Jonathan.
“Perhaps. Perhaps no. But that gives me the idea.” His English was about as bad as Jonathan’s French. He turned and pulled out a saber and placed the blade’s edge underneath Avery’s chin. The bright moonlight illuminated the blade, making the silver metal glint dangerously.
“Whoever tells me about the woman first will get to have a trial,” the captain said in French, slowly enough for Jonathan to understand. He glanced between Avery and Jonathan. “The other… Who can say?”
Avery gave a slight shake of his head. Jonathan stared at him for a long second and then cleared his throat. He nodded at the captain.
“I’ll talk, but only to you.”
“No!” Avery shouted, struggling to his knees. “Don’t you dare—”
“Silence!” The soldier kicked Avery in the face. Avery crumpled back to the ground, groaning in pain.
“I’ll take this one and speak with him.” The captain hauled Jonathan to his feet, gripping him by the arm and dragging him toward a tall cluster of boulders a dozen or so yards away. He kicked Jonathan in the back of the legs, and Jonathan fell to his knees. Then the barrel of a pistol was jammed between his ribs.
“Tell me where the woman is.”
He stalled, trying to think. “She…”
A dark form leapt from the shadows and sank a blade into the man’s chest.
“She is right here.”
The captain stumbled back, his pistol clutched in his hands, and fired as he fell to the ground. The shadow yelped in pain. Jonathan winced. He knew that silhouette better than he knew himself, even with trousers on.
“Audrey!” Jonathan crawled over to her. She was clutching her stomach, doubled over in pain.
“I…I didn’t think…he’d get a shot off.”
“It’s all right. Breathe for me, sweetheart. We’ll get through this.” He searched for the blade, and when he found it he pulled it out of the soldier’s chest. He cut the rope off his wrists and tossed the bindings away. Then he moved Audrey back behind the rocks, listening to hear if any more soldiers were coming.
“Captain, what happened? Have you killed him?” one of the French gendarmes called out, slurring his words a little.
Jonathan cursed under his breath and responded as best he could. “Oui!”
He heard the man laugh and lifted himself up to peer around the edge of the rocks. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but he soon realized that one of the soldiers had his rifle leveled at Avery’s chest.
Jonathan barreled into the group of armed guards and tackled the man taking aim, knocking him to the ground. He got in one solid punch before he was dragged off by other soldiers, then pinned to the ground.
“Hold him down!” a guard shouted.
This was it. He was going to die, and Audrey might die of her wound.
The grass beneath his hands was cold and slippery with sea spray. He lifted his head, viewing the horizon in the moonlit waters of the Channel. A fair enough sight, but he wished that his last sight would instead have been Audrey’s face.
We were supposed to grow old together, with grandbabes all around us. It was not supposed to end like this.
The soldier he’d struck now stood before him, blocking his view.
“Looks like nobody gets a trial today,” he said. He raised the butt of his rifle and struck Jonathan in the head.
Audrey’s face filled his mind. Flashes of memory from the last year played in rapid succession. Her brown eyes narrowed with anger as he carried her to bed. Those full lips curved in a tempting smile as she baited the hook to fish. Her sultry, hungry gaze reflected back at him through a mirror in the Midnight Garden. The way she’d whispered his name as he made love to her.
“How could I not love a man like you?”
A rumble of thunder caused a stir in the French gendarmes.
“Horses are coming!” a man shouted. “Horses are coming!”
