Page 43 of Hastings (Brothers in Arms #15)

CHAPTER 43

M addy was thinking furiously. She’d toyed with the idea of getting them to bring Stephen but gave it up when she realized it would be too hard to protect him and herself and get away. Much easier if she were on her own. Now she’d have to reconsider her plans.

She shut out all thoughts of what she was losing here tonight. She’d save Stephen’s life; of that she had no doubts. She was more than willing to die to do it. But even if she didn’t die, if she survived, there was no way Stephen would still want to marry her. She’d glossed over her past, never telling him the full truth of it. Now he knew. She was a heartless killer.

She’d killed and she’d covered it up. She’d laughed about it with men like this, she’d fucked men like this. How could he possibly forgive that? He’d been willing to accept her vague background story, but when he was confronted with the real thing there was no possibility he could accept her. She didn’t expect him to. But none of that mattered. All that mattered was making sure Stephen got out of this alive.

“Let go of her and get down off there,” Dickie ordered Stephen. “Keep your gun on her,” he told his men.

Stephen let go of her hand and Maddy had to force herself not to hold on in desperation. Very carefully he stood and climbed down. One of Dickie’s thugs grabbed his arm and dragged him toward the horses. Maddy stood so she could see where they were going.

“Careful there, missy,” Dickie said, leveling his gun on her. “I know you too well. Leave everything you’re holding there on the seat.” Maddy set her shawl and her reticule down on the seat. “And the hat,” Dickie drawled. She raised an incredulous eyebrow at him but removed the hat. As she slid the large hat pin out Dickie grinned at her. “Now wouldn’t that have been useful?” he asked.

Well, it would have been. But if he thought that was the only weapon she had, he didn’t know her as well as he thought he did.

She set the hat on the seat. “Now what?” she asked. She was hoping one of the men would come over to help her down. The steps were high off the ground. Once she’d slit his throat, she could use him as a shield. Stephen and the other man were too far away to see what was happening, and Dickie was a terrible shot. He was half-blind, and it had gone full dark. It was improbable that he could see well enough to shoot her or Stephen. She just had to incapacitate him and kill the other three before they could kill Stephen. Unfortunately, there was no cover on the country road, the trees few and far between out here by the fields.

“I need assistance to get down,” she told Dickie.

“No, you don’t,” he told her. “I’ve seen you jump from a rooftop.”

“Not in skirts,” she snapped at him.

He shrugged. “Figure it out. No one’s getting near you until we’ve got you tied up.”

“Then how are you going to tie me up?”

Dickie frowned. Honestly, it was becoming clear she had been the brains of the operation.

“Just get down here,” he growled at her.

She sighed and made a show of tucking her skirts up around her waist. Luckily, she was wearing the pink today with all the flounces. None of them appeared to notice when she slipped the thin stiletto out of her garter.

“Maybe we can make a deal,” one of the men said suggestively, and the other two still standing near them laughed.

“I’m not ruling it out,” Maddy said with a saucy grin at them all. Her stomach was churning at the very thought, but she needed them to lower their guard. In her experience men who thought they were going to get a free fuck were ridiculously easy to roll.

She pretended to trip climbing down the steps and hit the ground on her left shoulder and hip, hiding the knife against her arm. It hurt like hell, but nothing was broken. Bruises healed faster than gunshot wounds.

“Skirts have made you clumsy,” Dickie said dispassionately. “I’m beginning to think I worried too much about taking you. Get up.”

She struggled to get up and he waved one of the men over to help her, which was exactly what she’d wanted him to do. God bless Dickie for being so careless and arrogant.

When the man reached down to get her, he slipped his gun into the pocket of his coat. She reached up to take his hand, and as he bent over, she thrust the knife straight into his throat. His eyes went wide and he tried to speak, but no sounds came out, just a slight gagging noise. She tugged the knife out and he fell over onto her.

“Here now,” she hollered as she frantically patted him down, looking for the gun in his pocket, while trying to make it look as though she was struggling against him. “I didn’t agree to anything yet, you greedy pig.” She could feel his blood spilling out onto her neck and shoulder, and she blanked her mind to it, to what she’d done. Stephen . She had to save Stephen.

“Get off her,” Dickie yelled. “Before she kills you, you bleedin’ sod.”

Too late, Dickie , she thought as she grasped the gun in her hand. She hastily pulled the hammer back and then used both legs to shove the body off her. She rolled to the side just as Dickie’s shot hit the ground beside her. She aimed at the man who wasn’t holding the horse’s halter and blew a hole in his stomach. She was still quite close to the carriage and the horse reared, screaming, knocking the last man off balance. Throwing the empty gun at Dickie, she grabbed her stiletto from the ground, then scrambled to her feet and ran for the last place she’d seen Stephen.

When she got there, Stephen was wrestling with Bale’s thug. Their arms were up in the air as they struggled for the gun the other man held. She was afraid she might hurt Stephen if she tried to stab his attacker while they were spinning around and grappling. Stephen was quite strong, but he didn’t have enough experience with fighting to hold Bale’s man off for long. Frantic, she ran over to the fighting men and leaped onto the back of Stephen’s attacker, but her hold was awkward and unsteady.

She’d obviously taken him by surprise, and he relaxed his hold on Stephen. Without the support of the other man’s arms, Stephen stumbled and lost his balance. His attacker wrenched his hands free and spun around, flinging Maddy off his back before she had a chance to stab him. She hit the ground hard, the wind knocked out of her. She struggled to her knees, trying to catch her breath, worried about Stephen.

She saw Stephen knock the man down, but before he could do more the other man leapt to his feet and spun back around, the gun raised. Jumping up, she ran at them, pushing Stephen out of the way. She threw her knife at the assailant, burying it in his chest. As he went down, he fired, and when the shot hit her the pain was white hot and immediate. She fell to the ground, gasping for air. She heard Stephen shout, and as he took her in his arms her vision went black.

* * *

Hastings kicked Bronny’s side, trying to make him go faster. They’d learned to fly through these fields together in the last few weeks. Hastings had never had a horse of his own, and he’d certainly never had the chance to race across open fields before. Now Bronny gave him everything he asked for, having learned that Hastings was as fearless as he was.

He’d left Grady and Essie far behind. That was fine. It was easier for one man to sneak up on someone and silently kill him than it was for a small battalion. That was one of the first lessons Sir Barnabas had taught him. Barnabas would kill him if anything happened to Maddy. Not that it mattered. Hastings would kill himself.

When he heard the gunshots, it felt like they were going into his own body the pain was so sharp. “Maddy!” he screamed. “Stephen!”

From far behind he heard a voice yell, “Hey hip!” and suddenly it seemed as if the entire countryside was alive with baying dogs. That must have been Grady, calling his sheep dogs. Hastings didn’t know what good they’d do, but he’d take all the help he could get.

Finally, he could see Stephen’s carriage ahead. It had flipped over on its side, the horse still attached to it and trying to drag it off the road into the field. Another shot rang out and Hastings instinctively ducked, but he didn’t slow his horse. He saw a man standing there and it looked like he was trying to reload a gun. Hastings ran straight at him and jumped off the horse onto him.

They fell to the ground, Hastings on top. It knocked the wind out of him, but the man underneath him wasn’t moving. Hastings rolled off him and quickly wrapped one arm around his neck, ready to snap it. There was no need. He could tell it was broken already. He tossed the body away. Then he saw the two other dead bodies lying there. He crawled over to the first, but it wasn’t Stephen. He could see the second wasn’t, either.

He could hear shouting and horses’s whinnying from off to his right and leapt to his feet. Before he could race in the direction of angry voices, someone tackled him from behind.

He took a good punch to the head that had his ears ringing but didn’t let it slow down his reactions. Hooking his leg over his attacker’s he rolled him, changing their positions. He quickly slammed the butt of his palm into his face, and he felt the bones of the other man’s nose break accompanied by a sickening squelch. The man cried out, and Hastings kneed him in the groin. As he curled into a ball, Hastings jumped up and kicked him in the head twice. He rolled him face up and punched him as hard as he could, knocking the man unconscious. When it was over he backed away, panting heavily from the fight.

He heard Grady yell, “On him, lads,” and suddenly the field was overrun with barking, snarling dogs. He took off running toward the other fight.

When he got there, it was over. He saw Stephen kneeling on the ground holding Maddy’s bleeding body. He fell to his knees and let out a keening wail of misery.