Storm of Bells

33. Strip without the Tease

'Gah!'

Dalgliesh collapsed onto his knees with a garbled yelp—but he was still holding his sword. So, for good measure, I shot him in the other leg, too. He keeled over forward, and landed face-first in the dirt with a very satisfying thud.

Everything and everyone was silent for a long, long moment. Then Mr Rikkard Ambrose turned to me, his dark, sea-coloured eyes unreadable and yet so transparent. A shiver travelled down my spine.

'What?' I shrugged. 'Don't look at me like that. You told Karim not to interfere, not me.'

There was another moment of silence—then he dropped his sword onto the ground, strode over to me, grabbed my face and planted a fierce, hard kiss on my mouth.

'My little—'

'—gunslinger?' I suggested, blinking up at him innocently.

A growl erupted from the back of his throat and, grabbing hold of me once more, he reclaimed my mouth. Apparently, he very much appreciated my good aim. I would have to do some more target shooting.

Well, time to show him a gun wasn't all I was good at aiming. My hand, hidden between us, slide down his chest until it reached a...certain place.

'M-Miss Linton!'

'I know.' I whispered, smiling invitingly. 'Behind a church. Scandalous, isn't it? But honestly, if we send Karim away, who on earth is going to interrupt us?'

My question was rather abruptly answered a moment later when we heard swift footsteps approaching. Instinctively, I jumped back, putting a good bit of distance between myself and Mr Ambrose. A wise decision as it turned out when, after a second or two, puffing and panting, the reverend rushed around the corner of the church.

'What's going on here? I thought I heard a gunsho—oh my goodness gracious!'

Eyes wide with shock, the vicar rushed forward to where the prone form of Lord Daniel Eugene Dalgliesh lay unconscious on the ground. I guess in the excitement of kissing my fiancé, I'd forgotten the little detail that I'd just shot a man. A fact that boded rather well for our marriage, in my opinion. Swiftly, the vicar knelt beside His Lordship. I, however, was more interested in the figure who had appeared from around the corner behind him.

'Jenny?' I demanded, my eyebrows shooting up. This was even more interesting than Lord Dalgliesh possibly kicking the bucket. 'What are you doing here?'

'I, um...'

Jenny bit her lower lip—and then, she glanced at the vicar, and blushed. Blushed!

A grin spread across my face. Dear me. I was looking forward to hearing Amy's reaction to this.

The vicar, meanwhile, seemed to be unaware of the romantic atmosphere in the air, probably because of the bleeding soon-to-be corpse on the ground. Leaning over His Lordship, the reverend turned him over so he could see the wounds—then groaned and swayed. Apparently, he liked his red roses much better than red blood splatter.

'The Lord be merciful! What happened to him?'

'He, um....err...we found him like that. He, err...was in a duel! Yes, exactly.' I nodded energetically. 'Before he passed out, he told us he was here to fight a duel.'

'A duel? But duels are fought with single-shot pistols. He has bullets in both legs! What monster of a man would do that to the poor soul?'

'Um...' I cleared my throat. 'I can't imagine any man would do such a thing.'

'Your kind heart becomes you, Miss Linton. But there are men in this world more evil than you can imagine.' He glanced around. 'Quick, someone! Help me carry him into the vicarage!'