Page 79 of Not a Fine Gentleman

The killer’s blade hurtled toward her. She threw herself down to the floor of the carriage. A thud and a strange twanging sound erupted over her head. Footsteps lead away, and more came toward her.

“Margaret?” A vaguely familiar voice gasped.

A pair of strong hands gripped her shoulders. Margaret let out a cry and fought them back.

“Meg, it’s me.”

It took several gasps to clear the haze of panic. Her youngest brother’s dear face came into focus. “Christian.”

“Are you hurt?” her brother demanded.

“No.” She sat up and bumped against a knife embedded in the carriage seat mere inches above where she’d lain.

The killer must have thrown the knife and missed her by pure luck.

“Thank heavens.” Christian pulled her into a rough embrace. “Was that the killer?”

She nodded. “He was in the study the night I found Hennessy.”

Rachel. What of her?

She pushed away. “We have to get to Regent’s Park. Rachel is in danger. Hurry. We only have until sunset.”

Christian shook his head. “Rachel’s safe at home. She arrived not long after you left.”

“She’s safe?”

“He never had her. His message to you was just to lure you out.” He pinned her with such a disapproving stare that she hardly believed it came from her mild youngest brother.

He was right, of course. She seemed to act on pure instinct and no sense when it came to her family.

“All I knew was that a killer had her. Or claimed to. I won’t take chances on Rachel—on any of you.”

He nodded. “I understand. I suppose I would have done the same thing.”

Rachel was safe. Nothing else mattered. Margaret leaned her head against Christian and focused on breathing. She looked down at the gun in her hand. Had she injured the killer badly? She peered around. Where had he gone?

Christian shook his head. “He got away. I would have gone after him, but I had to be sure you were safe. I couldn’t leave you here alone.” He kissed her forehead. “I’m glad you’re unharmed. Come. I’ll drive us home.” He closed the door and climbed up onto the driver’s seat.

With the danger passed, and Rachel safe, Margaret relived the assault. She’d nearly lost her life. A tremor started vibrating her insides and moved outward until her whole body shook so hard she could hardly sit upright. Questions spun through her mind. Had she shot him squarely enough that he would bleed to death even though he’d escaped? Had she killed him? Was that the same as murder?

Connor was right; shooting at a human target was nothing to take lightly.

If Christian hadn’t come when he did, the killer, even wounded, might have succeeded in ending her life. She would have met the same fate as Hennessy—stabbed and left to bleed and die.

Thank heaven for family.