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Chapter Twenty-Five

V iscount Randall picked up the weapon and displayed it against his flat palm.

“I’d be delighted to," Kitty said with feeling. Although she was keen to try the firearm, she was more pleased about the short delay she'd bought herself. Telling Zeke goodbye was going to kill her.

She and Lord Randall approached the starting mark.

“Its sight is here.” The viscount gestured to the rear of the barrel, as opposed to the hammer.

“Oh, that is different, isn’t it?”

“You’ll hold it like…” He stretched out his arm, adjusted his stance, glanced at her. “You angle your body and stack your—” He broke off. “Perhaps it would be best if I showed you.” He stepped toward her tentatively, as if he meant to position her arms himself and felt awkward over the notion.

Zeke practically shoved Randall out of the way. “I’ll show her.”

Kitty thought she heard muffled laughter coming from both Caden and Randall.

Her cheeks burned as he crowded in on her. How mortifying. She wriggled and elbowed him in the ribs.

He chuckled low in her ear and refused to give an inch. Widening his stance to place his booted feet on either side of hers, his arms came around her, encircling her, before his warm, large hands covered hers.

“I comprehend the basic operation, my lord,” she said through gritted teeth. “I don’t require your assistance.”

“Nevertheless,” he said in a velvety soft voice, his lips close to her ear, “I insist.”

Kitty closed her eyes as liquid heat rippled through her. She took a fortifying breath, and struggled to maintain her righteous indignation. But how could her will prevail against sandalwood and spice and Zeke’s hard muscled body cocooning hers?

Best to take the shot and get this over with. She pinched one eye closed, and used the other to sight the target.

“Make sure your footing is secure,” he purred. “Do take your time.”

“How can I adjust my stance with your feet in my way?” she hissed.

No question about it; the two observers’ laughter rang through the air.

And then, the brazen peacock propped his chin on her shoulder. “Am I?”

“Seriously, Zeke, you must tell her to—” Randall began.

She squeezed the trigger.

A deafening explosion sounded in her ears, while seemingly in the same instant the most powerful recoil she’d ever experienced pulled her off her feet, pounding her into Zeke’s chest, while her firing arm shot back, pistol in a death grip in her hands.

Or Zeke’s hands. She couldn’t tell. Instinct bade her pinch her eyes closed and crane her neck sideways to avoid the gunstock’s impact. The wood collided with something solid.

And then time slowed.

In the eerie silence and through the acrid smoke, she flew up and up—then back. Trees, then treetops, and finally blue sky, passed before her eyes.

She landed with a thud that stole her breath.

Before she could begin to right herself, rough hands patted her arms, grasped her shoulders, her head, then lifted her to her feet.

“Are you all right?” Caden asked, his throat muscles cording so she knew he shouted, though she could barely hear him over the ringing in her ears.

She nodded and craned her neck searching for Zeke, then stared in horror at the ground behind her where Zeke lay, motionless.

Randall crouched beside him. Garnet red blood matted Zeke’s beautiful golden hair.

She had no coherent thought of twisting out of Caden’s arms, nor of lunging forward and dropping to her knees beside Zeke. She cradled his face in her hands.

“Zeke,” she cried over and over till her throat felt raw.

He gave no response.

Dear God, she’d killed him. She’d killed him and she never told him she loved him.“You’ll make yourself ill, Kitty. You must calm yourself,” Lady Lillian urged.

“My lady, I appreciate your concern.” Kitty executed a sharp pivot. She was well aware she was making a spectacle of herself, crying, pacing outside Zeke’s closed chamber door, wringing her hands till her fingers ached. She didn’t care.

“Perhaps a cup of tea, then?” Lillian asked.

“Tea would be lovely,” Kitty lied.

Lillian seemed grateful for the task. “I’ll see to it myself.”

“Lovely,” Kitty repeated. Dear God, didn’t anyone understand she just needed to know Zeke was all right? That she hadn’t permanently maimed him—or worse.

Certainly the men in the room with Zeke all thought her ridiculous. Oh, they hadn’t said so directly. No, the words they’d used had been perfectly reasonable and rationale. Perfectly polite. What was it Caden had said? Oh, yes.

“Kitty, love, he came to in the buggy on the way up to the manse. It’s the laudanum we gave him that’s kept him knocked him out. He’ll be fine, trust me. No small tap could crack that hard head.”

Small tap indeed. She’d brained him.

She hadn’t argued the point however. Neither had she mentioned she could do without the condescending pats, indulgent smiles, and not-so-subtle speaking glances passing between Caden, Viscount Randall, and even the earl inferring she suffered a fit of the vapors.

She couldn’t blame them entirely. They were looking at things with their man eyes. Whereas her more reliable women’s intuition kept screaming at her something awful was about to happen. The proverbial other shoe was about to drop.

She paused to scrub the heels of her hands over her burning eyes.

She wanted to ignore the innate knowing.

Really she did. Wanted to dismiss her fears as simply owing to her idiotic love for the man.

Unfortunately, in her experience, whenever her inner messenger of doom spoke up, it proved unerring.

Like the time Collin left for America. She’d known tragedy would follow.

Collin has come safely home , a tiny voice inside her argued. The thought brought a tremulous smile to her lips. Collin.

Where was he anyway? She’d sent a footman for him a good half hour ago, well before the doctor arrived.

The good doctor. She snorted and resumed her pacing.

Summoned from the nearby village, they awaited his arrival the better part of an hour.

An eternity as far as Kitty was concerned.

And then the stuffy old goat ejected her from Zeke’s chambers.

Said he couldn’t do a thorough examination with a female was present.

“What’s all this, puss?” Collin said, sauntering toward her.

She launched herself into his arms. “Collin, oh, Collin, it’s Zeke. I bashed him in the head with a revolver, and now he’s unconscious.”

“You what?” Collin held her slightly away from him to study her, a horrified expression on his face.

She almost laughed. “Not on purpose, silly.”

“That’s a relief. I say, this has been quite a day for you, hasn’t it, poor darling? And I’m afraid there’s more to come.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. I knew you’d understand, Collin.”

His brows knit.

“The doctor’s with him now. They kicked me out for decorum sake.” She stamped her booted foot.

Collin’s frown deepened. “Of course you can’t be in the room. Unless…you haven’t already seen the man…eh…that is…”

She cut him off with an impatient tsk. “Of course not, Collin. What kind of person do you take me for?”

He gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I do apologize, darling. It’s something James said.”

“James? Did you speak with him this afternoon?”

Collin gave his fancy cravat a small tug, as if he’d tied it too tightly.

“Indeed we had a lengthy, rather productive conversation. In point of fact, I have some important things to discuss with you, and the sooner the better.” He glanced meaningfully at Zeke’s closed door.

“Are all the Thurgoods in with your—in with the patient?”

The hair on the back of Kitty’s neck lifted a fraction. She smoothed a hand over her nape.

“Everyone save Lady Lillian.” She eyed him. “Why?”

“Because I need a private word with you.”

Kitty blinked. “Now?”

“No time like the present.”

“But, Collin. I can’t leave now. I have to know the extent of Zeke’s—Lord Thurgood’s—injury. I’m responsible,” she said, her voice rising an octave.

He gave her a look of impatience. “Is the injury likely to lead to his death?”

“No, but—”

“The doctor’s in with him now?” Collin gestured toward the closed door.

“Yes, but—”

He threw up his hands. “For God’s sake, Kitty. I’m your brother. Your family. One would think you’d have a little more partiality for my well-being.”

She winced at the direct hit. “Collin, nothing means more to me than having you here, alive and well. It’s just—” She eyed Zeke’s chamber door, then, resigned, relented.

“You’re right, of course. We can talk now.

Only…can we do it somewhere close by? So that I may be here in the event the doctor deems Lord Thurgood’s injury more serious than I’ve been led to believe? ”

Collin sighed with impatience, but conceded the point. “Very well, someplace close. But private.”

“There’s a small, family parlor at the end of this corridor.” She was already hurrying toward it.

The room was cozy, with burnished gold papered walls, two comfortable seating areas, with soft throws and pillows strewn hither and yon. Several oil lamps burned, illuminating the small space. A baize covered billiard table stood to one side, set and ready for a game.

“Will this do?” Kitty asked.

Collin nodded, his expression once more affable. “Quite. After you. Let’s sit, shall we?” He reached behind him to close the door.

Her fingers flew to her lips. “Oh could we…that is, I’m certain we won’t be interrupted here. It’s just I want to hear if—”

He rolled his eyes and half smiled, as he finished her thought. “If someone comes or goes from Thurgood’s chamber. You know, I’d almost forgotten your tenacity. Almost. Very well, love. Now do sit and listen to what I have to tell you.”

She perched on the edge of an armchair, folded her hands in her lap, and waited expectantly.

Collin sat across from her. In spite of having pressured her into this tête-à-tête, he didn’t immediately broach the subject. Instead he glanced around the room, taking in the hanging portraits and ornately tiled ceiling. “I’m not sure where to start.”

“Something to do with Garrick?” Kitty offered. Anything to get this over with so she could return to Zeke’s chamber.

“Actually, yes. As I mentioned, I had a long discussion with James this afternoon, initiated by him, to his credit.”

“Oh?” In her experience, conversations launched by dear cousin Garrick were never to his credit. One of her feet began to tap with nervous energy.

“Yes. He said he expected I was anxious to discover the status of the Maidstone title.” Collin’s face flushed with feeling. “My title. As you noted this morning, the Crown’s awarded the Barony to him.”

“But surely they’ll rescind their decision now you’re back? They’ll have to transfer the entailment to you, the rightful heir, won’t they?”

Collin’s mouth curved in a humorless smile. “It’s what’s right. It’s what should happen. But it’s a legal matter now, and as such, subject to all sorts of delays and missteps. For instance, what if I contest James’ claim, and the courts simply refuse to undo their decision?”

Kitty’s mouth dropped. “But they can’t.”

“Can’t they?”

“Surely we could find a way…”

“We could fight. Appeal to the courts. But a drawn-out legal battle eat up every shilling.” Collin’s voice went low, and intense. “On the other hand, if James and I jointly petitioned the crown to overturn the decision, why, I’d be assured of success.”

Kitty’s brows furrowed at her brother’s obvious naiveté. “Collin, I hope you’re under no illusion James will cooperate with such a scheme.”

Collin shifted off his seat to kneel in front of Kitty. His green eyes held hers in an intense stare. “That’s just it, Kitty. He is willing, more than willing, to return the title.”

The dread whispering through her as she paced the corridor outside Zeke’s chambers turned into a deafening drumbeat.

“Why would he do that?” she whispered.

“In exchange for a good faith effort on our part,” Collin said.

She swallowed hard. Tried to clear the buzzing in her ears. “On our part?”

“My darling. He asks only for the honor of your hand.”