Chapter Eighteen
Present Day
Nobi had no concept of time anymore. She only recognized daytime by the sun still in the sky, but it looked to be going down soon.
Having finally made it to the house, she dismounted.
The stone house was a castle, and it was open and welcoming.
It did not look like the place where her best friend might be tortured for information or some item that was not worth his life.
The flowers were in bloom and the vibrant fuchsia and yellow blossoms were cheery and bright.
The image of it all betrayed the storm thundering in her heart.
Her bedraggled clothing and disheveled hair were a far better reflection of the misery and chaos rampant in the air.
Thankfully the rain had stopped and she was not dripping wet.
She didn’t need a crying dress, no matter how much of a relief it might offer her to have something cry for the state she was in.
She knocked on the door. When no one answered, she pushed on the door to go inside. Of course, it was locked. Dash it all!
Bringing the horse out of sight of anyone who might come up to the front of the house, she tied him up and then proceeded to look for another door (or window if need be) to climb into the house.
Yes, she was desperate. She was more than willing to climb through a window at this point.
In fact, if she had to lose some layers of clothing at this point to squeeze through a crack, she would do it.
She was a woman willing to do anything, and that should terrify Chris’s captors.
Fortunately, after pushing on a few entrances with no luck, she finally found one at the back of the house. A servant’s entrance.
She entered quietly, unsure of what to expect. But the house was eerily silent. No voices. No tapping or clattering. No banging or brushing. No sounds of any kind. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought that there was no one in the house at all.
So then…what to do? The ruffians would likely be barging in with Chris in the next short while.
Where should she wait? Where she was, the kitchen, seemed as good a place as any.
The less time she spent wandering the house, the more time she could spend devising a new plan.
All of her former plans required involvement from the staff.
With this new turn of events, she was all on her own.
She scanned the kitchen taking note of her surroundings.
The bucket of some kind of oil by the door.
The cool stove. No one had been in here all afternoon it seemed.
Likely some kind of local event was going on.
A church event or a fair in the local village.
Just her luck. Thankfully there was still a candle burning on the wall to shed some light as evening approached.
She watched the light flicker against a glass on the table in the middle of the kitchen.
The refracted light sending color in varying directions was at odds with the dismal state of her heart.
Here in the kitchen, there were hazards and opportunities.
A kitchen had many sharp tools if she located them first. Nobi took stock of a few knives and a cleaver, placing them beside a seat somewhat out of sight but still able to watch the door.
She hoped she wouldn’t have to use them.
She could hardly imagine doing any damage to a human being with her pistol, least of all with a knife.
She shuddered, sending up a prayer again that she wouldn’t have to shoot anything.
Of late, she really didn’t trust her aim.
She settled herself in her chair, taking vigil.
If the captors did come through this door, this location was her best bet at rescuing him. She would have the element of surprise on her side, and if Chris (assuming he was conscious) saw her first, they might be able to work together quickly.
How had life brought her to this point? All she wanted was a nice life in the country with a man she loved. She didn’t crave this kind of stimulation. She didn’t need to be thrilled or experience new things. She liked safety. Comfort.
But this was Chris…
And she couldn’t live without him…
No. She really couldn’t. Look at her? She was risking her life for this man. She loved him. And what if she rescued him and they both came out alive? Then what? What was next? Going back to their friendship?
That felt so…hollow. Almost wrong. Their friendship was incredible.
It was the single most reliable, heart-warming, inspiring relationship she had outside of her sisters.
It was. And now that her sisters were moving on, she needed to as well.
That was what the duke dare had been all about.
She needed to shoot her shot. And now she might never have the chance to do it.
Because what if one or both of them didn’t make it out alive? A tear burned the back of her eye, and her throat throbbed.
That was an unconscionable thought. If he died…she couldn’t live.
It was finally her turn at the duke dare, and by God, she would take it.
This was her chance. Life might not give her another one.
There might not be more time. She almost wanted to kick herself for wasting so much of it already, but then she realized that if she had changed anything, her sisters might not have all found their true love matches.
And their happiness was just as important as hers.
So what if she had to sacrifice it for the last several years?
Well, now it was her time. Her turn. And she was finally ready to take it.
Nobi withdrew the pistol from behind her pocket and thumbed the rose embellishment. She loved him, and there was a time when she thought he loved her, too. She only hoped she wasn’t too late.
She knew it now more than she had ever known before.
Her soul, her heart, her body were made for him.
Chris was the man she loved and she would give up everything for him.
He wanted to travel the world, so she would ask him—beg him—to take her with him.
If she could handle a little abduction, surely she could handle a little world traveling.
There was no greater uncertainty than risking your life.
Now that her decision was made, there was a fire in Nobi that could not be put out.
After a while, Nobi thought she heard voices heading toward her. She braced her hand on the pistol and sent up another prayer, knowing that in a few minutes she would likely not have the wherewithal to call upon any deities.
Chris crashed through the door first, and she could see his hands were tied and his eyes were as wild as she had ever seen them.
He was surveying the room knowing he had only a second to find something, anything, but then his eyes tripped over her.
They caught sight of each other, in complete disbelief.
He was alive. She could breathe, for a second. She hadn’t realized how much hope she had been clinging to just to be reassured that he was alive. Now that she knew, her hope was rewarded. He was alive. Her heart fluttered. She saw him.
And he saw her, too. His face registering shock, relief, and fear all at the same time. She flashed the pistol at him so that he knew she was armed. He nodded.
Then he tilted his head back and she understood it to mean she should stay hidden, so she pulled back as far as she could into her corner.
And just as she did so, a tall lanky man came barreling in behind Chris.
Chris tried to dodge him, but his shock combined with the other man’s momentum did not pair well for Chris’s favor.
Immediately, the ruffian threw his arm around Chris’s neck and pulled him into his chest.
Nobi gasped at the viciousness of the headlock, but did her utmost to stay invisible.
“What the devil are you doing?” The ruffian grumbled at Chris. “You thought you could get away, again?”
Chris answered with a grunt, and she could see his eyes flickering about the room. She could tell that he was coming up with a plan, so she followed his eyes.
“It’s just us here,” Chris’s voice came out strained through the chokehold. “Everyone else is at the fair.” He dropped his voice on the word fair, and Nobi knew he was trying to tell her something. She just had to pay attention to the clues.
“I bet they’ve all gone to see the fortuneteller.”
“Shut the hell up. Why are you all of a sudden so chatty?” The captor tightened his grip on Chris.
But Nobi knew he was telling her something.
She just had to put the pieces together.
The fair. The fortuneteller. That had been one of the best and worst days of her life.
She remembered the day in a flash. The fun they had had together.
She was sure he was in love with her that day.
And even before that. But that day they had been in public.
He had bought her the very pistol she was holding right now.
She had won him the globe, which now sat in her bedchambers so she was prepared to follow him and his world traveling.
And then they had visited the blasted fortuneteller. Who had ruined everything. Well, that was dramatic. In actuality, she had just summed up their relationship within thirty seconds. They were opposites, not meant to be together. A next to impossibility.
And Nobi remembered her and Chris’s short conversation directly after the visit. They had both chuckled and said it was a good thing they were friends.
Well, she was tired of all the friendship. She wanted more.
And that’s when she remembered the fire. The small fire that had occurred from a candle falling to the ground.
She looked up at Chris, trying to hold her position. She raised her brows in question and watched as he guided her with his eyes to the plan he had devised.
Now she knew what he wanted her to do. But she couldn’t do it. That shot he wanted her to make? It was far too difficult. Far too close to his head. Her aim was all off. She couldn’t do it. He would have to come up with something else.
“Jax will be here any minute. Then you can show us where the pistols are.”
Jax? Another man was coming? Oh God, she needed to make that shot. Could she do it? It didn’t matter. She had to do it.
But she had to stand up to do it.
Swiftly, she rose to her feet and took aim.
“Who are you?” the man spluttered.
“I’m the last woman you’d ever want to meet in this abduction. That’s my man you’re holding.”
Chris smirked and nodded slowly. Then he kicked over the bucket of oil and she took her shot.
She took her damn shot. And she kept her eyes open, because whether she lived to tell of it or not, she wanted the last thing she saw to be Chris’s face.
Her bullet nicked the candle holder in the perfect spot. It fell into the oil and started a blaze.
Chris bashed his head against the man’s nose and jumped over the flames, racing toward her.
The next moments were a blur. The ruffian had dropped his gun and was holding his face.
He was also doing some frantic-looking jig to get away from the flames, yet he was still caught up in the blaze.
While he was sorting through that mess, she sliced through Chris’s ropes, and someone (probably Chris) took some powder and threw it on the flames.
“Nice shot by the way. I had no doubt you could make it.” He pasted a breezy kiss on her cheek, and then in the next moment, Chris sat atop the man away from the now squelched fire.
“Hand me the rope, Nobi,” he instructed. “You’re doing great. We’re almost out of this mess, darling. Go sit back in that chair and stay out of sight. This won’t take long now. Just a little bit more to go.”
Then he was tying the ruffian up and pushing him against the wall, out of the way of the doorframe.
There was no time for explanations, no time for anything, because then the sounds of a second man were coming toward the door.
Ostensibly unaware of all the proceedings that had just taken place, a behemoth of a man surged in, arrogantly looking for Chris who took him out with a single (and surprising) punch to the nose.
More rope. More ties. And then finally, finally, finally, an embrace. No, a kiss. And Chris and Nobi didn’t stop kissing until a throat cleared and Cook, while waving a frying pan in the air, said, “Do we need more assistance in here?”