Page 17 of Brazen

He blinked, clearly flummoxed by the idea, then shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. “I ain’t heard of no sick lady.”

Mia snorted. “I doubt you move in her circles.”

“She must have something valuable beneath that dress,” the man on the horse said.

The man nearest gave her an appraising look. “I imagine so.” He took a step toward her.

Boyd shifted.

“Dinnae move,” the brigand on the horse warned.

Boyd went still.

The highwayman lunged and seized Mia’s arm. Her heart pounded. He leaned so close she could smell whisky on his breath.

“Do ye have something special for me beneath that dress? His hand shot up and jerked her sleeve. Fabric rent. She yanked the pistol from her cloak pocket and swung it at his head. The barrel connected with his temple. He cried out and staggered backward. Mia pointed the weapon at him. Thank the Lord her hands didn’t shake.

The highwayman froze. “Bloody hell, she’s got a pistol.”

“Throw down your weapon or I will shoot your friend,” she instructed the man on the horse.

He gave a nasty laugh. “Shoot him and I shoot your friend.”

Mia locked gazes with her assailant. “You will still be dead.” She drew back the hammer. Would it fire in the rain?

“Kevin,” her assailant’s voice held a note of warning.

Mia stepped left so that she could keep the horseman in her sight, as well. “Tell your companion to lay down his weapon,” she ordered.

“I won’t do it,” Kevin said, and Mia realized he meant it.

He cared nothing for his companion and would shoot Boyd, as he’d threatened. If she laid down her weapon, the highwaymen would likely shoot all of them. Tears threatened. If she cried, they would know she was weak. A tremble began deep inside and started to work its way to her hands. She willed her teeth not to chatter.

The highwayman nearest her stepped closer. Kevin shifted on his horse. Mia swung the pistol toward Kevin and pulled the trigger. The deafening blast and recoil caused her to drop the pistol. The carriage horses reared and started forward, dragging the carriage across the road. Kevin wheeled his horse around and raced away.

Wood cracked as Boyd seized the reins. “Whoa there, lads!”

The remaining highwayman sprang for her. Mia stumbled backward.

Another gun roared and the highwayman twisted and stumbled toward the carriage, which now blocked most of the road. Mia yanked her gaze up to the young footman, seated on the driver’s seat beside Boyd. He gripped a gun. The remaining brigand whirled and raced past her, then disappeared into the trees. The rain came down harder. Her head swam. An instant later, someone stood before her.

“My lady, are you hurt?”

Mia blinked at Boyd.

“Sir,” the young footman cried.

The rain had slackened, and Mia discerned the pounding of horse’s hooves. She tensed. Was Kevin returning? Boyd took her arm and urged her toward the carriage. They stopped at its edge and peered around it at the approaching rider. Fear caused her heart to race. Then her mind comprehended that the horse was black, not the chestnut the brigand had ridden. An instant later, she recognized the rider.