Page 30 of The Major’s Mistake (Intrepid Heroines #7)

The laugh that followed sent a frisson of real fear through her. It became more than a mere shiver as he released her and removed the belt from his rough breeches. He slapped the thick leather against his meaty palm. “Now come here and show me how you kiss the bloody swells.”

She looked for any way of retreat but Scofield and Gibbs had already moved in closer on either side, their leering expressions leaving no doubt that they expected some entertainment.

Scofield licked his lips. “How about a taste for us as well, McTavish?”

The leader spit on the ground. “Perhaps when I’m finished—but that won’t be for a while.

” He took a step closer to Miranda and snapped the belt in the air.

“I said, come here!” But unlike earlier, he make no effort to grab her.

It was clear he was enjoying himself. Though she had her outward emotions under rigid control, he must have sensed some sign of her mounting terror and was taking pleasure in prolonging it.

“Think on it, my pretty one. If I have to come get you, you’ll soon feel the strap on that milky skin of yours.

I only want what you’re giving all too freely to your fancy man. ”

His two henchmen snickered and murmured rude encouragements.

“Yes,” continued McTavish. “Just a few sweet kisses.” One hand dropped down to fiddle suggestively with the fastening of his breeches. “Then you will toss up your skirts and let me have a ride.”

A sound of disgust caught in Miranda‘s throat.

His face turned dark with anger. “I think it’s time for you to start learning how to act proper with a man. Maybe His Lordship will even thank me for breaking you to the saddle.”

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” said Julian quietly as he stepped from behind the largest fall of rocks. His two pistols were leveled at McTavish’s chest.

For an instant, the leader’s jaw went slack with surprise, then he quickly recovered his wits, his eyes narrowing as they flicked from the marquess to Miranda to his underlings.

“My lor—” Miranda cut off her cry of surprise, sensing that any display of emotion might only serve to distract Julian.

Scofield and Gibbs fell back a step or two in confusion, but managed to catch sight of McTavish’s unspoken order and jerked their own weapons up to cover Julian.

The men around the fire sat in stunned silence, their expressions ranging from blank shock to disbelief to outright terror at the prospect of capture. Not one of them so much as twitched a muscle.

Julian started to advance, but stumbled slightly, giving McTavish just the opportunity he had been watching for. The leader whirled to his right, snatched the second pistol from Scofield’s belt and brought it to bear on Miranda in one rapid motion.

“Drop your barkers or I’ll kill her!”

“Will you, now?” replied the marquess in a calm voice. His lips curled in a grim smile. “In that case, I shall also be forced to pull the trigger.”

“And my men will drop you like a dog.”

Julian’s brow arched upward. “Really? The hue and cry over your present activities would be nothing compared to that for the murder of a peer of the realm. They would be hunted down like curs, no matter where they tried to flee. I wonder that they would stick their necks out in such a manner for a man already dead.”

He shifted one of his weapons to cover Scofield.

“Besides, I’ll think I’ll take my chances.

Their hands look rather shaky to me. Perhaps they are unused to aiming at people who can aim back.

” His smile became more pronounced. “I assure you, after my years of fighting on the Peninsula, I have no lack of experience in such a thing. And my aim is accorded to be very good.”

Scofield swallowed hard. Indeed, his hand was trembling perceptibly and Gibbs appeared to be in no better shape.

McTavish shot them both a look of contempt, then turned back to Julian.

His face revealed a seething anger, just waiting to boil over as soon as he had figured out how to turn the situation back to his favor.

But despite such emotion, there remained a glint of cunning in his narrowed eyes.

“The Peninsula?” he repeated with a shuffling of feet designed to distract the marquess’s attention. At the same time he sought to edge within arm’s reach of Miranda, seeing that if he could grab her to use as a shield, he would immediately regain the upper hand.

The hammer of Julian’s pistol came back with an audible click. “That’s quite far enough. One more movement of any kind and it is you, and not the lady, who will be meeting his Maker.”

“You wouldn’t dare. My men would kill both of you in an instant.” McTavish’s words came out in a rush of bravado, but an edge of uncertainty had crept into his voice.

Julian twitched another ghost of a smile. “You are welcome to test my nerve.”

The other man clenched his fist in frustration but he remained still. “You’ll not have her, not until I get my blunt. You make a move forward and I’ll kill her, I swear it.”

“Well then, it seems we have a stand off,” remarked the marquess after several moments of tense silence.

McTavish growled something unintelligible.

“There may, however, be a way to resolve it.”

A calculating look came to the leader’s face. “What do you mean?”

“Take me in exchange for the lady. I imagine you planned to send directions on how to deliver the ransom to my estate. My valet is not a fool. He will know how to handle the exchange.”

A gasp escaped Miranda’s lips. “You cannot mean?—”

Again, she swallowed her words on catching the pointed look Julian flashed her.

Someone around the fire emitted a low whistle, followed by several coughs as the men shifted uncomfortably in their places. It was clear that the idea of holding a peer of the realm hostage was even less palatable than that of snatching Miranda in the first place.

McTavish snarled a curse and sounds died away.

His tongue came out to run over his lower lip. “Take you instead?” An ugly grin began to spread over his face. “I expect the price would be considerably higher than it would be for a slut.”

Julian ‘s finer tightened on the trigger.

“But maybe I’ll just keep the both of you?—”

The marquess spoke softly yet his words slashed through the chill air with all the force of a saber.

“What you will do is lower your pistol and allow my—Mrs. Ransford to join me here by the time I count to three, or you are a dead man. And don’t think of so much as a blink or the consequence will be the same. ”

McTavish shot him a murderous look.

“One.”

He wet his lips as his features betrayed his inner struggle.

“Two.”

“How do I know you’ll keep your end of the bargain?”

“Because I am a gentleman and my word is binding, even to a piece of gutter slime like you.”

McTavish’s face twisted into a scowl that made it clear he intended the marquess to pay for such a remark, but after a slight hesitation he slowly lowered his weapon.

Miranda crossed quickly to where Julian was standing. She hadn’t failed to notice the patch of crimson seeping through the knee of his buckskins or the pallor of his skin under the sweat and grime.

“You’re hurt,” she exclaimed in a murmur low enough that only he could hear.

“I’m not going to leave you with that cur.

Keep your pistols up—we’ll both go. You needn’t honor any pledge made to that sort of man.

The men by the fire will not try to stop us.

They wish themselves well out of this and he and his two underlings hold them here only out of fear and force. ”

“No. Now go!” he whispered, not taking his eyes off of McTavish. “And quickly!”

“But—”

“Please don’t argue.” His voice was tight with concern.

“It’s no good—I’d never manage the climb back.

Justin found us. Sykes knows what’s happened.

He’ll see to things.” A spasm of pain crossed his face.

“Besides, there is no real cause for worry. If he murders me, there would such a reaction from London that the authorities would be forced to tear these hills apart searching for the culprit. Whatever else, he doesn’t appear to be a total fool.

Besides, he wants the money too badly, and he knows he’ll have to produce me in one piece. ”

Julian then raised his voice to address McTavish.

“I’m going to give the lady one of my pistols.

The other one will remain aimed at your heart until she is well away.

” His mouth quirked in a dry smile. “Then I will submit to your hospitality until satisfactory arrangements can be made. But don’t forget, my man is a rather cautious sort of fellow and will demand to see the merchandise before he pays for it.

” Though his words retained their steely edge, the marquess couldn’t keep from swaying slightly as he finished.

Miranda’s hand came up instinctively to rest on his sleeve.

“Julian!”

It was the first time she had uttered his name. Julian felt a lurch in his throat as his eyes fell away to regard her pale features. He wanted nothing more than to gather her in his arms and beg her to say it again. And again.

“It’s all right,” he whispered, then his gaze swung back to the leader.

It was too late.

McTavish hadn’t taken his eyes from the marquess as well.

At the momentary lapse in attention he was ready to take the advantage.

The pistol was still dangling in his hand.

In one quick motion, he hurled the heavy weapon at Julian’s injured leg while dodging to one side to avoid any answering shot.

It caught the marquess flush on the knee.

Stifling a cry, he dropped to the ground where he lay in stunned agony.

“Julian!” cried Miranda as she dropped down to the ground next to him.

“Cover them, you idiots!” screamed McTavish .

Scofield and Gibbs managed to recover their wits enough to train their weapons on the two figures in the dirt.

“Well, well,” sneered McTavish as he sauntered towards them. “Isn’t this an interesting turn of events.” He tossed one of the Marquess’s pistols to his two cohorts and stuck the other in the waistband of his pants.

“Think on it,” Julian warned. He managed to push himself up to a sitting position. “You’ll get not a farthing if, as I said, the merchandise isn’t in one piece.”

An ugly laugh rent the chill air. “Oh, the merchandise will be one piece. It will just be a bit … used.” His expression turned even uglier as his gaze strayed to Miranda and then back to the marquess. “Perhaps you’d like to watch.”

Julian went absolutely rigid. His tone remained low but the words cut through the air with all the steely force of a saber. “You so much as lay a finger on my wife,” he said very slowly. “And I will rip your heart out of your chest with my bare hands.”

A murmur of shock and surprise ran through the men around the fire.

“Shut up,” snarled McTavish, but it was clear he, too, was taken aback by the force as well as the import of the Julian’s words. It was one thing to take advantage of some poor widow of dubious morals but even he had to think twice about forcing himself on the wife of a marquess.

“Wife? She ain’t your wife,” he said uncertainly. “It’s a hum.”

“It’s no hum.

“Look at her gown! It’s nought but a rag. And she don’t live with you.” He was beginning to regain his bravado. “I tell you, it’s a hum.” He took another step forward.

“The reasons for our current arrangements are of no concern to the likes of you, but rest assured the lady is my wife and if you touch her, you—and your underlings—are dead men.”

Scofield swallowed convulsively while Gibbs shuffled nervously from foot to foot.

“Maybe we should talk things over,” said Scofield. “There’s still plenty left in the jug and besides, they ain’t going nowhere.”

Seeing that his support was in danger of ebbing away, McTavish allowed himself to be convinced. “Very well, but I’ll see them tied up in any case. You!” He pointed to one of the men at the edge of the fire. “Fetch some rope and bind their hands.”

The fellow rose reluctantly and returned with a length of rough hemp. After cutting into two lengths with one of the cooking knives, he did as he was told.

“Bring them over here.” McTavish pointed to a place hard up against a slab of rock and some distance from the warmth of the fire. Miranda was able to walk on her own, but Julian didn’t have the strength to get to his feet. The man had to drag him over to the spot.

“Rip out my heart,” said McTavish as he glowered over the marquess’s prostrate form. “Why, you don’t look so mighty now, Your bloody Lordship.” As he finished, he took back his booted foot and delivered a vicious kick to the injured leg.

Julian bit back a scream. His head spun in a haze of pain, then everything went black.