Page 71 of The Captain Claims His Temptress

“You bloody blighter,” growled Georgie. Her weight shifted, but she didn’t move from her spot.

Pierre chuckled as he taunted, pushing his finger farther into Maddie’s bodice.

She would not allow him to see her fear, and she would stand up to him. “You are a poor excuse for a man.” Thereupon she did the unthinkable. She conjured saliva and spat in his face.

His eyes wide, Pierre stepped back and wiped the spittle from his cheek. His face contorted until he resembled a grinning creature from hell.

Dear Lord, she’d gone too far.

“No one move,” Stephen said. “There are two pistols aimed at Madalene, one on me, and one on you, William.”

Maddie held her breath, waiting for Pierre to take his revenge. Would he slap her? Kick her in the stomach? Spit back?

Instead, he strolled away. Once he was out of her line of sight, his voice broke the silence. “You should not have done that, mademoiselle.”

What else was she to do? Ignore his repulsive touch?

“Right between her eyes,” Pierre declared.

What in the devil did that mean? And why was Stephen screaming, “No”?

Time seemed to slow as Georgie and William lunged for their weapons. Thereupon, time sped up and everything happened at once.

A shot rang out; Myrle knocked her onto the ground; something sticky splattered across her face; and everything faded to black.

Chapter twenty-five

October 7th, 1817

Whilecallingtothebutler for assistance, Stephen cradled Madalene in his arms and carried her into the vestibule. His cry for help seemed to startle her because her eyes fluttered open.

“Stephen?” she asked, her soft voice barely audible.

“Shh,” he comforted her.

“Am I dying?” she asked. “There was so much blood.”

Did she believe she was the one who’d been shot?

“No, beautiful. You are going to be fine. You were knocked out.” Hopefully, the man who had taken the bullet to protect her was not taking his last breaths.

Stephen steadied his voice as he gave Niles, the butler, further directive. “Myrle is dead weight.” Probably not the best choice of words. “The duke and duchess require assistance carrying him, and we need hot water, towels, blankets, and tea in the drawing room.”

Maddie blinked and her muscles stiffened. “Was Myrle shot?”

He would answer her question as soon as she was comfortable.

She grasped Stephen’s lapel. “Was Myrle mortally wounded?”

Dare he tell her that they had called for the physician because Myrle’s wound was quite serious? Nay, she had also been injured. Simple truths were best until she rested.

“The physician has been called. Myrle will be in good hands,” he said.

From all around them the staff of Hockley Castle hustled. Meanwhile, Stephen carried Maddie up the stairs to the drawing room and placed her on a settee.

“You must be exceedingly strong to carry me. I am not exactly dainty,” she said.

He would carry her from one end of the earth to the other to keep her safe. “You are quite light,” he said. And she fit in his arms perfectly.