Page 59 of Charlotte's Kisses

“Is someone there?” he called.

Metal against metal clinked, and the door cracked open. Hugh stepped back and crouched low, preparing to pounce if the situation called for it.

One of Lady Chesterhill’s men peeked into the room. He cautiously entered, his pistol steadied, ready to shoot. Dressed in the finest red silk and carrying a bright lantern, the lady drifted in behind him. Two men goose-stepped at her heels.

She smiled at Hugh. “Good morn, my dangerous wolf. I see you have freed yourself from your bindings.”

“I see you made it across the River Styx unharmed,” he said.

She chuckled as if she found Hugh’s insult charming, but anger simmered in her pupils.

“Enough with the pleasantries,” Hugh said. “Tell me what you want from me, and then let me go, or I will strangle every last breath from your lungs.”

She stepped close and thumped his bare chest. The wanton woman was always touching his chest. “Mayhap you should cease with the idle threats because you can see how well they have served you,” she said.

“But these are not idle, my lady. My hands are large, your neck is thin, and my fingers itch to squeeze.”

Lady Chesterhill waved a dismissive hand. “I have told you what I want. I asked you to report your findings to me before you took them to my husband. ’Twas a simple enough request, yet I have heard nothing from you.”

And for this, she had threatened and maybe taken—nay, Charlotte was still alive—threatenedCharlotte’s life?

Lady Chesterhill sighed and ran her cold-as-ice hands down his torso to rest over his belly button. “’Tis such a pity. We could have been good together.”

“But you are married as well as Satan’s spawn,” he hissed.

“And you have left me with no other choice.” She exhaled dramatically. “I suppose ’tis for the best since it will make the rumor so much easier to believe if you disappear along with that ridiculous stepdaughter of mine.”

As evil as she was, there was still something very unpalatable about killing a woman.

“Shoot him. But take him far away from here. Be sure to dispose of his body,” the lady commanded.

How fortunate that her private army was fair game. Hugh snarled, then pounced on the man closest to him. In one swift move, he disarmed him, aiming the pistol at the blighter’s heart.

Lady Chesterhill scoffed. “Dispensable. Do what you will, Hugh Fletcher. But know that the second you shoot him, these two will end your life.” She pointed at the men behind her.

Realizing he was to be immolated, her loyal foot soldier gasped, his eyes wide with horror. “My lady?”

As much as Hugh did not want to touch her, he stalked to the marchioness. After days of lying dormant, his fighter instincts returned with a vengeance. Keeping the pistol aimed at her human sacrifice, he swung behind her, locked his forearm around her neck, and pulled her off balance. She tipped backward until her shoulder blades pressed against his torso.

“I knew you wanted me, my dangerous wolf,” she said, her voice chilling his soul.

“Yes,” he whispered, feigning his best seductive baritone. “I do want you, my lady. Good. And. Dead.”

Her body tensed.

“Or, at the least, ruined when the truth of your deeds is announced to theton,” he added nonchalantly. “I am sure you are well aware of who my cousins are.”

As her three Capes looked on, brows furrowed, Hugh dragged her toward the door. “This ends now,” he declared. “I do not wish to harm a woman, but know that if any of you follow me, I will shoot her without a second thought.”

“Do something, you fools,” Lady Chesterhill screeched as Hugh dragged her from the room.

Chapter twenty-six

Charlotte’s heart beat erraticallyas she raced up the stairwell and down the hallway with Snowball clutched to her chest. Praying that her stepmother had not chosen this particular eve to slumber with her father, she opened the door and peeked into his chamber.

Crackling flames in the hearth cast the room in a peaceful glow. Since it was a bit warm for a fire, Papa must have needed the extra heat due to ailments. Luckily, he slept alone. After arranging Snowball in her basket, Charlotte shook him awake.

He sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Charlie, ’tis the middle of the night. What are you doing in my chamber?”