The Wedding Night Affair--An Historical Mystery L.C. Sharp (i read books .TXT) 📖

though he doubted Sir James would try to kill him in a crowded inn, he still didn’t trust him.

“Wait,” the man said.

Hearing the command in his tone, Ash stopped. He forced an expression of carelessness to his face, a slight smile curving his lips. “Yes? You have something else for me?”

“Only this.”

Sir James lifted his hand barely enough for Ash to see it.

“Down!”

Ash didn’t know who had shouted that, but he was grateful for the warning. He ducked, and felt Freeman do the same behind him. An explosion over his head shattered a lamp on the wall, showering him with glass. They were static targets here. He edged forward.

Around them, the inn had erupted into chaos. Another shot boomed and myriad inventive curses. People rushed for the door.

Behind the crowd, they had no chance. All they could do was head for the door.

Where they found the two guards. One grabbed for Freeman, who kicked out. Ash turned, his back to Freeman’s, and slammed his fist into the jaw of Sir James’s henchman. A shot of pain hit his knuckles like a lightning strike, but he had the satisfaction of knowing that his punch had hurt the man more than it had hurt him. The man crumpled like a pack of cards. Unfortunately, he rebuilt himself quickly, straightening and lashing out at the same time.

Ash ducked under his arm, and found himself outside.

There, standing in front of him, both hands on a pistol he recognized as one of the pair in his study, stood his redoubtable wife.

His foolish wife, who shouldn’t be here. But here she was. And standing a foot away from her, pistol trained at the door, was his sister.

“Stand,” Juliana said, as if she’d been doing it all her life. “Give your weapons to my—colleague.”

For some unaccountable reason, Ash wanted Juliana to say my husband.

Spectators stood around, mouths agape or smiling. None of them spoke, although a few murmurs buzzed through the crowd.

Sir James stood still, staring at Juliana. In her plain riding habit, hat crammed down to her ears, holding a gun in one hand with a significant bulge distending the pocket of her jacket, she looked as if she was used to all this. Ash was proud of her.

“You know,” she said conversationally. “I’m not used to firing guns. Not pistols like these. I’ve never used this one before, so it might have a hair trigger, or it might not. But I’ll keep my finger on it, just in case.”

Sir James groaned. “Can someone stop her?”

Nobody moved.

Except for Ash. He stepped right behind Sir James, and slid his arms around him in a lethal embrace. Sliding his hands inside the man’s coat, he found a brace of pistols and a useful knife. He handed them back to Freeman, who took charge of them. He took everything the man had, while Sir James and Juliana stared each other out.

When he’d done, he held out his hand. Freeman put a gun in it. He shoved the barrel in Sir James’s back, but unlike his wife, Ash didn’t put his finger on the trigger. He nodded to Juliana, trying very hard not to panic. Was that weapon even loaded? Did she know how to load a pistol? His sister Silence surely did. The life she led would demand it.

A little of his tension unwound, but only a small part. This situation was too febrile to relax. If he even mentioned Bow Street, the crowd could turn against them, and then they were done. This was a crowd, but it could turn into an angry mob in an instant. Especially if they realized who Juliana was. The woman who had been the cause of another mob, one of the largest in recent years.

No time to waste, then. Freeman took control of the ruffian accompanying him. “Walk,” Ash commanded, praying the man would see sense.

Thank God, he moved. He walked.

Ash didn’t breathe again until they were out of the danger area, past King’s and on their way to Newgate Prison.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Juliana was elated. She had done it. Her idea to visit Silence, or at least try to find her, had turned out well; so well that Juliana suspected someone in the house knew exactly where to find her. Considering the unusual loyalty and discretion of Ash’s servants, she wouldn’t have been surprised. At any rate, when she and the footmen she’d brought reached King’s, Silence was waiting. The footmen weren’t surprised. Ash had taken Freeman, and when she’d told the men trying to bar her way that either they came with her or she went on her own, thankfully, they came with her.

Now she understood why a relatively modest household needed half a dozen footmen.

Although infuriated by Ash’s refusal to let her go with him, she utterly refused to allow him to face the danger on his own. Losing two husbands in the course of two months? Absolutely not. She refused to accept it. So she’d set out.

The Bull and Bear was easily reached. Silence, wearing clothes as practical as Juliana’s own, was unrecognizable from the elegant and daring courtesan enthralling the highest in the land. Now the resemblance to her brother was more marked, the shape of the eyes and mouth, the slightly long face, the finely shaped aquiline nose.

And the determination in her celestial blue eyes.

Waiting outside was difficult, but necessary. Juliana hadn’t needed Silence to tell her. While they stood by the wall, Silence murmured, “So you’re one of the family now. I’m not sure I should congratulate you, but considering where you came from, you’re probably slightly better off with us.”

“Hugely better off,” she answered. “And thank you.”

When Ash left the inn and saw her, she caught resignation in his eyes and the hard line of his mouth. But after they had delivered their prisoners to the ungentle hands of the Newgate gaoler, she’d tried to apologize. He’d cut her off. “What’s done is done.” He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “But I am