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Alex nodded grimly. “You wait behind the door and cosh him on the head. I’ll attack from the front and try to get Belle out of the way. Shipton, you wait here. We may need you.”
Shipton nodded, and the two larger men slipped silently down the hallway, positioning themselves on either side of the door. Alex stood slightly farther away than Dunford and pressed himself against the wall. Woodside would be heading in his direction when he emerged, and he didn’t want to be seen until after Dunford sprang into action.
After a few minutes of agonized waiting, the hinges creaked and the door swung open.
“Not a peep out of you while we go down through the inn, do you—”
With surprising grace, Dunford jumped up onto Woodside’s back and jammed his elbow down onto his skull.
“What the hell?” The blow disoriented Woodside but it was not quite enough to knock him out. Still, he loosened his grip on Belle and she dashed away from him, straight back into the room.
Alex lunged forward, hurling himself into Woodside’s midsection, knocking the breath from him. But somehow Woodside managed to keep his grip on his gun and a shot exploded in the hallway, sending Alex flying back down the corridor, where he landed in a crumpled tangle of arms and legs. Shipton rushed forward immediately, but the groom had no experience with gunshot wounds, and the sight of bright red blood oozing from his master’s shoulder was enough to send him into a swoon. He landed squarely atop Alex, effectively pinning him to the floor.
From beneath her blindfold, Emma heard the sounds of the scuffle and then of the gunshot, and her heart started pounding wildly with terror. Clamping her teeth down against the gag in desperation, she waited miserably on the bed, somehow knowing that her husband was hurt, maybe dying. And she could do nothing to help him. She couldn’t help anyone, even herself.
“Get the hell off of me!” Woodside cried, spinning around wildly, trying to loose the death grip Dunford had around his neck. Finally, in one last desperate move, he slammed Dunford with all his might into the doorframe, and Dunford went down. Unfortunately, so did his pistol, which clattered to the floor and slid into the room, where Belle picked it up in horror.
Woodside’s face erupted into a sinister smile as he raised his gun and pointed it at Dunford’s heart. “You are a very stupid man,” he said softly, his finger tightening on the trigger.
“Not as stupid as you.”
Dunford gasped as he saw Belle pointing his gun at Woodside.
“If you shoot him, I’ll shoot you,” she added, trying to keep her voice level.
Emma almost died in that moment. She had no idea what was going on, but she did know that Belle had no idea how to use a pistol.
Woodside’s expression turned wary for a moment but cleared quickly. “Really, Lady Arabella,” he said condescendingly, keeping his eye carefully fixed on the man in front of him. “I cannot believe that a gently-bred lady such as you—an earl’s daughter— could ever shoot a man.”
Belle shot him in the foot. “Believe it.”
Woodside was momentarily stunned. Dunford took advantage of this temporary lapse and lunged forward, intending to knock Woodside to the ground and wrestle the gun away from him. But before Dunford connected with his target, another shot rang out, and Woodside came tumbling down, landing on top of Dunford. From down the hall, Alex breathed a sigh of relief as his pistol slipped from his fingers. Under the heavy weight of Shipton, it had taken him precious seconds to retrieve his gun, which had fallen to the floor a few feet away from him. His shoulder was throbbing, his arm was numb, but still he had inched forward, gritting his teeth against the pain. When his hand finally found the weapon, he had no idea just how fortuitous his timing was, and he picked up the gun and shot Woodside in the back of the knee.
After Woodside and Dunford went down, the scene was eerily quiet, with only Belle standing, a smoking gun in her hand. Her mouth was slightly open, and her eyes seemed to have lost the ability to bunk as she stared at the aftermath of the battle that had been waged in her honor. The horror that she had managed to gulp down when she shot Woodside belatedly rose within her, and the gun slipped from her fingers, landing loudly on the floor.
“Oh my good Lord,” she breathed, her eyes roving over the scene. Alex was pinned beneath Shipton, and Dunford was pinned beneath Woodside. Two of the ton’s most virile men had been incapacitated by mere body weight. It would have been humorous if she weren’t still shaking from terror. To top everything off, Emma was still tied up and blindfolded on the bed.
And she was not happy about it. Deducing that the danger had passed, Emma started grunting and thrashing wildly, gutturally insisting that someone come and release her.
Emma’s jerky movements broke Belle out of her haze, and she rushed over to release her cousin. “Calm yourself,” she said, trying to sound stern. Belle undid the gag first and was immediately sorry that she had done so.
“What happened? What’s going on? Is Alex hurt? I can’t see anything! Will you—”
“You just cannot bear to be left out, can you?” Belle said, shaking her head as she pulled the blindfold off.
Emma blinked as her eyes adjusted to the light. “There were so many shots. I felt so helpless. Where is Alex?”
Belle cut away the ties around Emma’s ankles and then had to race after her as she dashed out into the hallway to find Alex.
“Oh my God! You’ve been shot!” Emma froze, sickened by the sight of Alex’s blood. She kicked away one of Woodside’s legs and hurried down the hall to her husband.