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Page 29 of Only Earl in the World (Taming of the Dukes)

After the man left, Preston prowled behind her friend with her gun in his hand.

He leaned in and sniffed her hair in a way that made Briar’s flesh crawl.

How had she missed all the signs that he was a zealous predator?

Bloody hell, had he sniffed her when she hadn’t been aware?

Studied her every move with those reptilian, unblinking eyes?

Briar stifled her shiver. She wanted to signal something to Minthe to give her hope—that Levi was on the way—but the viscount wasn’t stupid.

He was careful and slippery…a fact only obvious now in the glare of hindsight.

Perhaps Briar could find a way to get help from any of the people who were in the drawing room.

She needed time to come up with a plan. Or perhaps she could do something now so Minthe could escape…

“What now?” she demanded rudely.

That priggish gaze lifted. “Well, Lady Briar, since you asked, if you’re obedient and behave, this lucky little harlot will live.

” The viscount lifted her pistol and dragged the muzzle down Minthe’s discolored cheek to her throat to the visible embroidered edge of her corset.

Her friend quaked, though she tried to hide it. “If you defy me, she won’t.”

“What is it you want, Preston?” Briar asked.

His face twisted. “We will marry this evening. I have obtained a special license. If you do your duty with the decorum I expect, she will be released.” He lowered his voice to a hiss.

“And for extra incentive, if you say a word about any of this, your secret alter ego won’t be a secret anymore.

Think about your parents. The friends you will harm by mere association. Your pristine reputation.”

“I don’t care about reputation,” she shot back.

“No?” he said silkily. “Do you think the men in Parliament would think so highly of a woman of your questionable character, Lady Ivy ?” Briar ignored Minthe’s soft gasp. “What would happen to your petitions and signatures? Your influence? Your precious vote?”

Bloody hell . He was bluffing. If he exposed her, he would be tarnished as well. But could she risk it? Could she risk all the work she had done? Briar lifted her chin. “I am already engaged.”

“Not for long. I will have you,” the viscount said, a fanatic light in his eyes. “You, little dove, were put in my path for a reason. You are mine.”

“I’ll never be yours.”

“I will enjoy clipping those wings. You will repent, you will cease all depravity, and you will be the most perfect, most virtuous wife.”

Oh, if he only knew. Briar burst into laughter, snickering so hard she nearly toppled over.

When he glowered at her, she laughed harder and clutched at her stomach.

He took a menacing step toward her, gun lifted.

Briar wasn’t afraid. He wouldn’t shoot her, not if he needed her, and for all his posturing, he had guests.

Murdering his bride would ruin his plans.

Besides, she wanted to make sure he moved away from Minthe.

“Stop this at once,” he spat.

Briar wiped her eyes. “Oh, Preston, you silly fool, why would you want someone who has already given her virtue to another?”

He froze, that feverish gaze slamming into hers. “You lie .”

“It’s true. My very virile, debauched earl fucked me until I couldn’t walk. Made me scream his name to the heavens until I was hoarse.” She pretended to swoon and gave a melodramatic moan that would have made Lady Ivy proud. “Made me come so many times, I soaked the bedsheets.”

Minthe was staring at her with her jaw on the floor. At any other time, Briar would preen in the blatant approval she saw there, right before dying of embarrassment. But now, all she was thinking about was survival and keeping Preston’s attention so Minthe could run.

“Go,” she mouthed to her, and then angled her body so that the viscount’s view was partially blocked.

“Harlot!” the viscount snarled.

“That word doesn’t have the power you think it does,” Briar scoffed. “They’re women who know what they want and how to get it. And most of all, they’re very good at picking out those who know how to last, if you know what I mean.”

A demented sound ripped from the depths of him.

His face twisted, and he lunged at her. Briar tried to jump out of the way, but her limbs were still weak from whatever anesthesia he’d doused her with, and she stumbled.

His fingers caught on a few tendrils of hair at her nape, and she winced as they came loose in his hand. Briar gasped. Her coiffure !

It was still in the clever updo she’d fashioned earlier—the tiny lady’s maid still crouched in the corner hadn’t touched it, so that meant Briar wasn’t weaponless.

The viscount charged for her again, and she dodged his attack clumsily, while wrestling with the special pin holding her wealth of hair in its coil.

She didn’t want to accidentally impale herself.

It was a cleverly redesigned two-pronged hatpin made from Damascus steel with sharpened ends—the perfect hidden weapon.

“You’re going to be very sorry when I get my hands on you, little dove.”

When he lunged for her again, she was ready, aiming for the most lethal spot—the neck. Briar struck. But the viscount shifted at the last minute, and the hatpin sank into his arm. He howled, his face going puce with anger.

Damn and blast . She had wounded him and managed to enrage him.

With a growl, he rushed her, and in her haste to escape him, her foot got caught on the base of the divan.

His fingers snapped out and banded around her neck, yanking her back.

Briar crashed into his body, and she nearly vomited when her bottom encountered his groin.

He was hard . Dear God, he was enjoying this.

His hand tightened around her neck, and she gasped for air as he deprived her of it.

“Pres—” Her fingers scrabbled at his unbreakable grip. “S…stop…”

Suddenly, there was a loud crash, and his grip loosened as he slumped to the ground. Wheezing, Briar hauled huge gulps of oxygen into her lungs and spun to see Minthe standing over him with the remnants of a large vase in her hand. “I told you to run!”

“You wouldn’t have,” Minthe shot back with a shaky grin. “Thank me later. And don’t think for a second we aren’t having a conversation about a certain writer.”

The sound of a gun cocking made them both freeze. Sackley stood. “Neither of you are going anywhere. Now sit down or I shoot.”

Blood dripped into Jasper’s eyes.

Trussed up with his arms behind his back, his head throbbed, and his shoulders burned, but he’d been able to pick at the knots with his thumb. He’d almost worked them loose when he heard noises outside the potting shed or wherever he was.

Fuck .

He picked at the ropes faster, but it was to no avail. Footsteps halted outside, then there was a murmur of low voices. He closed his eyes and evened his breathing. He might have a chance if his assailants thought he was still unconscious. The door pushed open.

“It’s the earl, Inspector,” someone said softly, and Jasper’s eyes flashed open. Levi Givens, Briar’s brother, came into view, his frame outlined by the sparse moonlight. Relief swamped Jasper when his bonds were cut by the man who had spoken.

“Lushing,” Givens said as Jasper stood, blinking woozily and swiping at the congealing blood on his brow. “Where’s my sister?”

“Sackley has her,” he said hoarsely. “How many men?—”

But his words were cut short when someone—clearly not one of Givens’s—approached.

Givens and his man took him down in relative silence, but Jasper was already hurtling toward the house.

He had to get to Briar. He hoped he wasn’t too late, and he didn’t know what he was running into, but he didn’t care.

Christ, how long had he been out?

Enough time for the bastard to compromise her?

There was no time for subterfuge. People in the ton knew who he was, and he would use them as eyewitnesses, just as Sackley had intended to. Jasper entered the front door, past the gaping butler, past the foyer of well-heeled people.

“It’s the Earl of Lushing,” someone whispered.

Another let out a shriek. “He’s bleeding!”

“Has he been in a brawl? Look at him.”

He knew how he appeared. Jasper didn’t care what any of them thought. He searched through the rooms, not seeing Briar or the viscount, and ventured deeper into the house. His gaze snagged on a footman. “Where’s your fucking master?”

“U…upstairs, my lord. The master suite, east wing.”

Not wasting a second, Jasper took the stairs two at a time on soundless feet, ears pricked just as a crashing sound of a dish breaking came from the far end of the corridor. He veered toward it and picked up his pace until he reached a pair of closed doors.

“Now sit down or I shoot,” a man snarled.

It was him . A seething Jasper pressed his ear to the wood. He forced his boiling blood to calm because he had to be smart. If Sackley had a gun, it could go off.

“Preston, please…I’ll do what you want, just let her go.” Briar !

“Shut up. I need to think. Look at the state of you. You can’t go down there looking like that. Girl, go fetch a comb and some powders, and send a servant for some water. Now!”

Jasper stepped back just as the door opened and a thin, terrified maid hurried out.

He put a finger to his lips as her eyes rounded when she caught sight of him.

Most servants wouldn’t be privy to their master’s plans, especially one who looked this frightened.

Jasper jerked his head for her to leave.

He had seconds, if that, before the door latched, which would lose him precious time.

Kicking the door open, Jasper briefly caught sight of Briar and Minthe on a seat— both alive —before springing for the man to his left.

Sackley held a pistol, but Jasper had faced many an armed robber at Lethe.

Without hesitation, he dove low, going for the knees.

Both men tumbled in a heap, thudding to the carpet.

Dimly, he heard Briar scream his name over the sound of the blood rushing between his ears, but his fists were moving, crashing into any part of the viscount as they rolled.

The gun was caught between them as they grappled for it.

Jasper absorbed a punch to his torso and then grunted when Sackley’s skull crashed into his already wounded temple.

Fresh blood spurted, temporarily blinding him.

Get the gun, get the gun .

He almost had it, but suddenly, a loud crack made his ears ring as more wetness drenched his face, a stinging pain searing through his breastbone.

Jasper’s head banged backward hard as he crashed down.

A second gunshot reverberated, but he couldn’t make sense of it.

Blinded by blood dripping into his eyes, he could not hear or breathe.

Everything felt heavy. The viscount stared viciously down at him, his weight crushing Jasper’s throbbing ribs, those pale eyes open and locked in rage.

Christ, his fucking chest was burning…

“Jasper!” Briar cried. Hands tore at him until he was lying on his back, gasping for breath. She tugged at his clothing, searching for any wounds. “Have you been shot?”

There were people in the room—he caught sight of Givens—but he only had eyes for one.

His Sweetbriar. God, she was beautiful. Her hair fell around her face in a silken cloud as she crouched over him, those green eyes glossy with tears and glittering brighter than the emerald in his pocket.

He cupped her face with a bloodied hand. “I love you so much.”

“Jasper, did he get you?”

“No,” he rasped. “Just the burn from the muzzle. I’ll live.”

They both stared at the viscount’s unmoving corpse beside them as Briar burst into sobs and peppered his face with kisses. “God, I thought you were dead. You silly, beautiful fool. He was armed. How could you be so reckless? I could have lost you.”

“You’ll never lose me. You would miss me too much. You’re stuck with me like an in-growing toenail, remember?”

She sniffled, smiling through her tears, her eyes flickering as she remembered their banter years ago in their back garden when she’d first met Nève. “How do you remember these things? I didn’t mean that.”

“Yes, Prickles, you did. But I know a way you can make it up to me.”

“And what’s that?”

He fumbled for his trouser pocket, pulling out the small box and opening it. Her eyes widened. “I think you should marry me, love. My odds of survival chasing after you in dangerous places are dwindling by the day. A man needs assurances.”

She giggled. “Does he?”

“The sooner I can call you my wife, the better. Now be a good girl and say yes.”

Her eyes dilated, but she gave him a teary nod. “Yes, Jasper. Always, yes.”

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