Page 40 of The Duke's Impetuous Darling
Hallerton had hidden his pistol in his cape pocket. Still, to Bee, the outline was apparent. If Sam had spied it, he must have felt the tension because he flared his dark eyes at her in alarm.
Hallerton urged her along behind the boy. "Help him."
She was no stranger to saddling a mount. She entered the stall, circling slowly round in such a way that Hallerton would have his back to the wall, she to the gate.
In the crystal silence of the morning, the only sounds she heard were Sam pulling down blankets and more...a vague crush as if...as if someone hurried across the frost-laden yard.
Hallerton alerted to the noise.
And she lunged for the pistol that wavered in his hand.
* * *
A shot rang through the pristine morning air.
"Good Christ," Alastair seethed. He broke into a run toward the stable block, Griff, Bromley and Trevelyan at his side.
A horse raised one hell of a ruckus inside the stable. Doors of the block ajar, the inner stalls were shadowed in the dim morning light.
Sinking to one side of the entrance, Alastair raised his hand to his friends to halt. Military men all, they sank to the wall, of a piece. Alastair, Griff and Trevelyan each had their own pistols drawn, at the ready. Bromley who'd hurried along behind them as quickly as his wounded leg could carry him, leaned against the mottled apricot brick and with the slick slide of steel on steel, unsheathed from the handle of his cane a slim and deadly dagger.
The three others nodded in wide-eyed approval.
Alastair tipped his head toward Griff to circle to the back entrance to the stable. Griff and Trevelyan set off soundless as cats. Alastair pointed that he'd enter one side of the stalls, Bromley should take to the other.
"Come now." Bee's voice rent the air as if she encouraged a wayward child. "Do let these gentlemen greet you."
Alastair ran toward her voice, her cajoling spurring him on. "Dear God," he exclaimed as Lord Hallerton slid around the partition of one stall where a horse danced and kicked the wooden frame. He'd not suspected this man of chicanery.
Hands up, the man looked sheepish in his surrender.
Alastair stopped in his tracks, pistol pointed at the man who'd abducted the woman he adored.
Bromley beside him, chuckled.
"I see you've not been able to take your morning ride, my dear," Alastair said to her as she came in to full view.
A glorious smile lit her pale face. But her hand quivered as she urged her captive forward with jerks of the weapon. "I caught this thief in my room. Imagine. Stealing me away on Christmas morning."
He tsked at the man who glared at him. "Stealing as a regular practice."
"He knows about Blue Hawker. We must learn why."
"He's in league with Carlson," he told her as he took the old heavy pistol from her shaking hand and caught her against him. "A Custom official came to the Hall this morning and has taken away Carlson. He returns for this one."
She melted against him. "Thank heavens."
"I know he'll be most grateful for your services, my darling." He handed his weapon over to Bromley.
Griff and Trevelyan ran toward them.
"We'll dispense with this man," Bromley told him.
Marjorie and Del, both in quite a state of dishabille in their robes and nightgowns, hair undone and flying, came running toward their sister.
“You’re not hurt?” Marjorie asked Bee, her hands running over her sister’s arms.
“No. And you?” She looked from one to the other.
