Page 42 of What A Rogue Wants (Lords Of Deception #1)

“We’re being shot at,” Grey hissed, dragging her belly-first through the dry leaves over hard ground.

“I got that,” she murmured. Another shot exploded, the sound making her instinctively cover her head with her free hand.

“Help me,” Grey demanded. She pushed with her feet against the dirt to slide toward the tree she made out in the darkness.

The pistol exploded again, the noise of the shot amplified by the increasing nearness.

A scream wrenched from her throat as bark from the tree beside her hit her in the right cheek.

A sharp sting slashed across her skin followed immediately by warm, sticky blood.

“Goddamn it,” Grey growled. “I’ll kill whoever’s trying to kill us.”

“Perfectly reasonable.” She wiped at her cheek while pushing with her feet and shimmying over the dirt and rough roots of the tree to take shelter behind the large trunk.

Just as they settled behind the trunk, Grey slammed his hand over her head and pressed her face, mouth first, into the dirt.

For a moment panic clawed at her throat.

He was going to suffocate her. Wait. She sniffed.

She could breathe. She took a ragged breath and pushed his hand away. “Grey?”

“Stay down.” She didn’t need to be told twice.

Bullets flew nearby, the loud pop of each shot resounding in her ears.

The smell of smoke filled the air. She jumped at the cocking click of Grey’s pistol.

His hand settled briefly on her back as if to calm her.

“It’s too late for you to run. I’m sorry. ”

The anguish that filled his voice made her heart jerk but there was no time to respond.

She locked her gaze on a lone figure emerging on the path in a sliver of moonlight.

Blazes. She couldn’t see his face. He came a step closer, and she clutched at the ground.

He had two pistols aimed directly at them.

Grey scrambled to his knees, raised his own pistol and fired.

The man disappeared off the trail leaving only the harrowing sound of a deranged cackle. Madelaine breathed in as all the sounds of the forest crashed around her sensitive ears. Twigs snapped, animals scampered, and somewhere to the right of them a terrible voice rose out of the dark shadows.

“You’ll die tonight, Lord Grey.”

She trembled.

“Who are you?” Grey demanded as he worked to reload his pistol.

“I’m the man who is going to destroy you.”

Madelaine’s breath caught in her throat. Instinctively, she grasped the back of Grey’s coat. He pushed her away, the hard bark from the tree scraping her legs through the thin material of her dress. He moved directly in front of her. “Let the lady go. She’s innocent.”

“Innocent?” the man called back. “No one’s innocent, young lord. Best for you to understand that right now. If you’ve turned your back on the fair Lady Madelaine, I suggest you turn round. The biggest threat always comes from those you trust most.”

Madelaine’s breast swelled with a silent protest. She couldn’t see Grey’s face and how the man’s words affected him, but the muscles of his back tensed under her grasping fingertips.

To their left a horse came charging out of the woods without a rider.

A distraction. Her mind registered the fact.

She turned to the right, Grey did the same.

But it was too late. The hesitation had cost them.

The stranger stood on the path directly in front of them.

She smelled his sweat and the gunpowder that had discharged from his pistols.

He stepped closer, his face blanketed by the dark.

“Hand over Lady Madelaine,” the man growled.

Grey stood and moved out from behind the tree with his pistol aimed at the man.

“I wouldn’t shoot if I were you, Lord Grey. I’ve two pistols. Even if you manage to hit me, I could still shoot her. I don’t want to. But to save myself, I will. Don’t make me.”

Though she thought the tree would protect her, Madelaine shrank further behind the oak and away from the man.

Something about his voice struck greater fear in her than the two pistols he aimed at them.

Frantically, she searched the ground for a stick to use to throw at the man to distract him and give Grey a fighting chance.

“Move and you’re dead,” Grey snarled.

“An impasse?” the man taunted.

Madelaine closed her fingers over dirt, twigs and leaves. None of that could help her. Her throat constricted with despair. She couldn’t just let Grey die. She pushed herself off the ground to charge at the man. A strong arm clamped around her waist and a rough hand over her mouth.

She was propelled backward through the air by whoever had her.

Not more than ten feet away, her feet touched the ground, and she was jerked roughly around.

Lord Gravenhurst glared at her. “Don’t move a goddamn inch.

” He withdrew a pistol and crawled silently back toward the oak tree and Grey.

Relief threatened to buckle her knees, but there was no time for respite or indecision. Grey would be fine now.

This was her chance to flee. She waivered for a second, caught by wanting to make sure Grey emerged alive and knowing if she didn’t go she might not get another chance. A stick broke beside her, and her heart jumped and then plunged as a figure emerged from the woods.

“It’s Abby,” Abby whispered.

Madelaine released a rush of breath, all her nerves tingling. “We need to escape.”

Abby didn’t hesitate or question. She yanked Madelaine toward her and pulled her up an incline.

As they climbed the small slope and deeper into the dark woods, branches scratched Madelaine’s arms and face and tore at her clothing.

Sharp pains pricked her sides as she ran and her breath came in short gasps.

At the top of the hill, they stopped by a large tree.

“One minute,” she choked out, doubling over. She put her hand out to keep from falling, but her legs gave way. With a thump, she sagged to her knees, her hands splayed atop gnarled roots meandering in all directions.

Abby fell beside her with a huff. They sat for a moment, their ragged breathing the only noise Madelaine could hear until a bang rent the night.

She jerked and shoved at the leafy ground to gain purchase.

Her heartbeat roared in her ears. Was Grey wounded?

Should she go back or forward? Another pistol fired into the silent night.

Her heart pumped furiously, indecision making her sick.

If she went back, she could be killed or captured.

If she went forward, she’d save her father.

“Let’s go,” she said, her voice raw with pain and sorrow.

“We’ve got to get to Kew and the prince.

” They barreled through the woods away from the stranger and Grey.

The muscles in her legs burned as she climbed the hill, but she pushed herself to keep going.

Through the thinning trees, a steep drop opened to her right.

Tears burned her eyes, and her throat ached with the need to cry.

She shoved branches out of her path as she ran, the tears breaking through her determination and blurring her vision.

Unable to see properly, she wiped furiously at her eyes.

A branch caught her in the chest. It knocked the wind out of her and she stumbled on a root.

She teetered at the edge of the cliff, her arms flailing for purchase through the air.

Abby’s scream of horror followed Madelaine over the side.

Jutting trees jabbed into her sensitive flesh as she fell.

Her body rolled and bounced off the brush, tumbling until she hit the bottom and struck her head with a thud.

Streaks of pain shot through her skull and blackness swept across her vision.