Page 78 of Her Wicked Highwayman
“No,” his father said, his tone gentle. “Rafe, one of the tavern wenches hit me in the head minutes earlier—I was unsteady on my feet and should have looked out for coaches. What happened wasmyfault.”
The sunny library began to shimmer around them.
“We don’t have much time, my boy. You must listen to me. Diana is still alive. Fight for her, for Isla—for yourself.” Malcom’sgaze dropped back to the chessboard. His fingers caught on the edge of the board, lifted it suddenly, and the pieces tumbled off the surface, clattering onto the wood floor.
Rafe and his father stared at each other. “Break the rules, Rafe.Upset the game.Take every risk.”
“Father!” Rafe gasped as the world began to slide into darkness. “I never told you—” He had to tell his father he loved him, but already he could no longer see him.
“I know, my boy. I’ve always known.” His father’s last words were a whisper of gold thread, binding the pieces of his shattered heart back together.
Rafe fell to his knees once more, this time on the cold stone floor of Caddington’s cell. The sunny library was gone and so was his father—but fire had returned to Rafe’s blood.
Fire and rage.
Take every risk.
It was the fear of risk that had held him back. The hope, however faint, that if he surrendered himself to Caddington, the man would spare those he loved. Hope wasn’t what he needed. Risk meant not trusting hope or fate. He needed to trust himself. He wasn’t alone, so long as he believed in himself.
Even though pain waseverywherein Rafe’s body and it felt like his back had been shredded, his fury brewed like a violent summer storm just beneath his skin.
“Get up,” Caddington snapped in a bored tone.
Rafe rose, a pounding in his ears running far deeper than the blood roaring in his head. It was the ancient rhythm of life that went beyond everything Rafe had understood until that moment.
Upset the game.
He heard the whip lash out, and Rafe swiftly leaned to the side, holding up his arm and letting the leather coil around hiswrist. He gripped it and yanked, hard. Caddington stumbled forward, not expecting the move.
Rafe jerked the whip out of Caddington’s hands and let it fall to the floor. Then he raised his fists in a fighting stance and waved for Caddington to come at him.
He smiled grimly at Caddington. “My brother was a champion boxer.”
“But not you,” Caddington sneered as he raised his own fists. “I know. I’ve followed your every move since your father died. You were never much good at anything, just like your father.”
Rafe waited for Caddington to take a swing at him, and then he ducked. The moment Caddington came close enough with that missed punch, Rafe swept his leg out, knocking the man down onto his back. He’d taken down dozens of the best brutes in boxing rings with that very move. He stood over Caddington, his blood roaring in his ears.
“I never fought in any of the fighting salons... because Icheat.”
Then he kicked Caddington square in the face with his boot.
Diana keptherself as limp as possible so as not to let that foul man Phelps know she wasn’t unconscious. She had taken Rafe’s warning to heart. She had to wait for her moment and thenfight. Nausea filled her belly where Phelps’s shoulder dug into it, but she fought the need to vomit. He passed the steps of the cellar and clear, fresher air hit her nose. She saw moonlight cut harshly through the windows as Phelps walked down the corridor.
Any minute now, she would take her chance...
Her body swayed as he adjusted her on his shoulder, and she felt the cold handle of a pistol briefly pass by her fingertips.Phelps took two more steps, and when her hands moved again, she grabbed the pistol, pulling it free of his leather belt.
Diana had but one thought as she pulled the trigger and felt the man’s body jerk with the impact of the muffled gunshot.
Save Rafe. Save Isla.
Phelps crashed into a wall. One hand gripped a faded tapestry, which he pulled down as his body sank to the floor. Pain crunched through her hip and shoulder as she fell to the floor beside him, knocking the wind from her. The tapestry fluttered down over them, and she fought to get free of the heavy moth-eaten fabric. Phelps lay slumped against the wall, the tapestry half draped over him like a death shroud. He gripped his lower stomach, where blood welled up thick and black in the moonlight. His spent pistol now lay useless next to him. She would have given anything for a second gun so she could charge back to the cellar and save Rafe, but she didn’t have time to search for one and did not know who else might be here. She had to do what he’d commanded, ride for help.
“You’ve killed me,” Phelps rasped, a look of shock on his face. “You’re nothing but a pathetic woman...”
A wave of cold fury burned within Diana as she rose to her feet and stared down at him.
“When a man believes women aren’t capable of anything, he is the one who will pay the price for that mistake. Caddington did the same, but I know something he does not.” She watched Phelps’s lips move as he tried to speak, but his strength was already leaving him.
