“
The blackguard had probably shot Victor, or worse, Dom! And he was getting away!
Not on her watch, he wasn’t.
She didn’t stop to think. As he came abreast of the carriage, she swung the door of the carriage open, directly into his path.
It knocked him right off his feet. As he lay there, stunned, she leaped out and marched over to him. A red haze filled her vision at the thought of everything he’d done, and she dug the heel of her half boot into the wrist of the hand holding the gun. As Samuel let out a howl, she wrenched the pistol from his hand. Then she backed up and aimed it at him, praying she could pull the trigger if she had to.
Not that she was likely to hit anything if she did; she’d never shot a firearm in her life. But he was not escaping, drat it.
Samuel stumbled to his feet, then blanched. “Jane!”
“Yes, it’s Jane, you…you…vile…horrible…arse!”
“Give me the gun, Jane,” he said hoarsely, fixing his gaze on it. “You don’t want to be playing with that.”
With her blood beating a fearful tattoo through her veins, she steadied the pistol in the general direction of his heart. Though she could think of better places to shoot him, frankly. “I’m not playing. And you’re not going anywhere.”
Samuel lunged at her, and the pistol went off.
Which was odd, because she couldn’t remember pulling the trigger. But she must have, because smoke came out of the end of the pistol and he cried out and dropped to the ground at her feet, grabbing his thigh.
As Samuel rolled there, clutching at his leg and howling, Victor skidded to a halt beside him.
“Good shot, Jane!” The grin he flashed her reminded her instantly of Max. “I saw you hit him with the carriage door, too. Excellent work. We’ll have to make you an honorary Duke’s Man.”
“Over my dead body,” Dom growled as he ran up beside her.
”
”