Page 142 of The Rogue's Last Scandal
“You’ll not get my crew to take you anywhere,” Llewellyn growled.
“Well, not that boat. I will be long gone before you have your turn at the gallows.”
“She is going with her cousin, Carvelle,” Graciela said. “He was another partner in your crimes, wasn’t he, Lady Kingsley. Along with your husband.”
“My husband? That fool? All of our hard-won money, invested in a cargo that your father chose to steal.”
“Oh dear,” Charley said. “A cargo sent under a Spanish flag. Plunder taken from the people of New Spain. Do lower your pistol, my lady.”
“Come here, girl.” She beckoned Graciela. “You are my safe passage out.”
Behind her, Juan and Bink had landed their last punches, and Juan’s dagger was drawn.
And Father wanted the woman alive. He shook his head, praying Juan would see him.
“You’re a fool, Blanche,” Charley said. “So sorry to inform you, that boat you’re planning to catch won’t be at the dock in Bermondsey.”
She glared, and the pistol veered his way.
Fortunately, Llewellyn was in front of him.
“Blanche,” Llewellyn said. “Put the gun down.”
“Who’ll talk first?” Charley asked. “Shaldon won’t need both of you.”
He heard a rustling and the gun veered back to Gracie.
“The boat’s been warned away, Blanche,” Charley said. “You really have no choice.”
The pistol moved their way again, shaking.
“Now,” Charley shouted.
Juan’s knife slashed and,pow, Llewellyn slammed into Charley, pulling them both to the floor.
He rolled the man off. Llewellyn clutched at his belly.
“Gracie,” Charley yelled.
“I’m here.” She crawled over to him, dagger drawn and threatening the Captain. “Are you hit?”
“I don’t think so.” he said.
Llewellyn groaned.
“He’s faking.” Gracie got to her feet and toed the man’s coat open.
Blood stained his waistcoat.
She inhaled sharply. “She shot him.”
On the other side of the room, Juan restrained Lady Kingsley, while Farnsworth staunched the wound in her arm.
And Father had made his appearance.
Charley started going through Llewellyn’s pockets. “I guess we’ll be charging you with attempted murder, Lady Kingsley.”
“It’ll be murder,” Llewellyn said. “I’m gut-shot.”
