Page 51 of An Unexpected Earl

Her toe caught on a bump, and she fell. Her hands and knees slammed into the stones, and she cried out in pain.

“Amelia!” Pearce was immediately at her side, his arm around her shoulders and lifting her to her feet.

Too late. The men had caught them.

“Halt where you are!” the taller of the two men shouted as they slowed to a stop in the alley less than ten feet away. They were breathing hard from the chase, their hands drawn into fists. The taller one pointed at Amelia and told Pearce, “We only want the woman. Hand her over, and no harm will come to you.”

“The hell I will.” Pearce moved her behind him to shield her. His gaze darted between the two men, and every muscle in his body tensed. Alertness coiled inside him, ready to spring. “Go away, and no harm will come toyou.”

The two men laughed and started forward.

“Run!” Pearce ordered Amelia, then stepped forward to meet the attack.

As the shorter man charged toward him, Pearce hauled back his arm and swung. His fist landed with a sickening thud in the man’s stomach. The attacker doubled over as a whoosh of air poured from him with such force that the sound echoed off the stone walls.

But the taller man was quicker. When Pearce swung, he ducked, dodging the blow and countering with one of his own. His fist caught Pearce on the chin. Pearce staggered back a step, then recovered his balance and let his right fist fly, followed immediately by a cross punch from his left.

As he beat the man back, the first man recovered his breath and staggered up from behind.

“Look out!” Amelia cried as the man swung and landed a lucky blow to the side of Pearce’s head.

Pearce dropped his shoulder as he spun in a circle, throwing a punch into the first man’s face with his right fist and into the second’s stomach with his left. The sound of bare knuckles thudded sickeningly with each punch, along with groans of exertion at each flinging swing.

One last jab, and the tall man crumpled to the muddy ground. This time, he couldn’t find the strength to climb to his feet and stayed down on his hands and knees. Blood lay splattered across the alley around him.

The other man leaned against the stone wall, a trail of blood trickling from the corner of his mouth as he fought hard to catch his breath and pant down the pain. He glared murderously at Pearce, but he was smart enough to stay back.

Pearce kept his fists clenched, his eyes on the two men, as he slowly moved down the alley to Amelia.

He swiped a trickle of blood from the corner his mouth with the back of his hand. “I told you to run.”

She took his hand and laced her fingers through his. “I’m not leaving you.”

That stopped him cold for a moment, and his expression softened with relief in the darkness. He bent down to touch his lips to hers—

“They went into the alley!”

Pearce stopped, his mouth hovering just above hers. Biting back a curse, he broke into a run again, once more pulling her along with him.

As they raced through the rabbit warren of streets lying between St James’s Square and the river, she could hear men pursuing them, but thankfully, she and Pearce were too far ahead to be seen. In the dark shadows that grew thicker the closer they came to the riverbank and the wharves built up along every inch of it, they were practically invisible. Yet the men remained always behind, like a pursuing pack of dogs nipping at their heels.

They reached the river. Pearce halted at the top of the embankment to glance over his shoulder. She followed his gaze. Three men wearing all black hurried down the street toward them.

Biting back a curse, he led her down to the water’s edge. “This way!”

She followed trustingly, staying close at his side as he rushed her down a set of stone steps to the black river below.

A boat waited at the bottom of the stairs, its waterman sitting back in the bow, half-asleep. The man jerked up with a start.

“Downstream,” Pearce ordered, helping her quickly into the boat. “Now.”

Without waiting for the waterman, Pearce yanked the rope loose from its tie and shoved off, pushing the skiff away from the stairs and into the river’s fast current. But not quickly enough. The three men reached the top of the steps and hesitated only a moment before scrambling to find another boat.

“Go!” Pearce shouted.

“Aye, guv’nor!” the waterman returned as he took up the oars and rowed them out into the river.

In the darkness, Amelia could just make out the three men as they jumped into a boat and pushed off in pursuit. She clutched at Pearce’s hand. “They’re coming after us!” Panic rose in her voice. “They’ll catch us!”