Chapter Eighteen #2
“Callie, Nicky, get the hell outside! The rest of you, stay back,” Gabe warned as he parried the count’s thrust. Count Anton was a skilled swordsman with a stylish manner, but Gabe had been fighting for his life for eight years: there was no comparison.
Gabe thrust and at the same time twisted his blade.
It slashed into Count Anton’s left shoulder and blood blossomed through his coat.
He snarled and thrust wildly back at Gabe and with a flick of the wrist, Gabe sent the count’s blade spinning out of his hand and across the floor.
Harry clamped a boot on it and the fight was over.
The count stood panting, staring at Gabe with flat malevolence. “Kill them all!” he ordered the guards.
“Sheathe your swords,” Captain Kordovski ordered, and the guards sheathed their swords.
The count swore viciously.
“That’s enough,” Gabe snapped. “Were it not for the presence of this lady and her child I would butcher you where you stand. As it is I’ll be glad to see you dance at the end of a rope.”
“You can’t touch me,” the count snarled.
“Nash, you’re the diplomat, what say you? Surely a member of a foreign royal family cannot be immune from prosecution for arson, kidnapping, and attempted murder?”
“What are you talking about?” Captain Kordovski demanded belligerently. “Arson? What arson? And as for kidnapping—you are a fine one to talk, you, who stole our prince and princess from us. And as for attempted murder, we are all witness to the fact that it was a fair fight.”
“What are you talking about?” Callie stepped forward. “Nobody stole me. But he—” She pointed at Count Anton, who sat nursing his wound. “He stole my son from his bed last night as he slept.”
“His agents did,” Captain Kordovski corrected her. “He organized the rescue attempt to save the prince from the fiend who was holding him prisoner.” He glared at Gabe.
Suddenly it was clear to Gabe. The count’s so-called agents—he’d wager the original plan had been for them to assassinate Nicky.
Planned for the night of the party, when everyone would be distracted and the count himself would be downstairs innocently hobnobbing with the highest born collection of witnesses in the land.
Then Captain Kordovski and his Royal Guards arrived on the scene and the assassination had to be turned into a rescue attempt.
“Stop calling him a fiend!” Callie snapped. “He is my husband. My beloved husband.”
Gabe blinked. What had she just called him? Beloved?
“And he wasn’t holding anyone prisoner, or hidden away. Nicky was peacefully asleep, and Gabriel was downstairs dancing with me at the party to celebrate our wedding.”
Captain Kordovski’s jaw dropped. “What? I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I,” Callie said.
Neither did Gabe. Had she really called him her beloved husband? And if so, did she mean it, or was it just to calm that captain fellow?
“I do,” an unexpected voice said. Nicky stepped forward and pointed at the count. “He told you we were prisoners of Mr. Renfrew, didn’t he? And he told you that Mr. Renfrew was responsible for us fleeing Zindaria.”
“Fleeing?” Captain Kordovski repeated. “You were stolen.”
“No, Mama and I fled because he”—he pointed again at the count—“was trying to kill me and nobody would believe Mama.” Nicky looked at Captain Kordovski. “That’s why you didn’t stop me back then, isn’t it? You weren’t holding me prisoner, you thought you were rescuing me.”
Captain Kordovski nodded, a grim look in his eye.
Nicky grinned. “And because he”—he stabbed his finger at the count for the third time, this one with glee—“didn’t know I could ride I was able to steal a horse and get away.”
The count glowered at the small boy. “You should have been drowned at birth, a twisted little weakling like you,” he snarled.
“Weakling enough to outwit you,” Nicky crowed, undaunted.
And Callie saw…In that tiny spilt second as Nicky crowed, she saw the expression on the count’s face change. She saw his hand move…
“No!”
She wasn’t close enough. Gabe was between her and Nicky, and Ethan was too far to reach. She was too far away. She caught the glint of the pistol rising, pointing straight at Nicky’s heart, and she knew…she knew…
“No!”
Afterward she wasn’t sure whether she’d screamed or not. It must have been only for that one spilt second that he aimed the pistol but it seemed an eternity, a nightmare that went on and on and on.
She couldn’t reach. She couldn’t…
But Ethan—Ethan saw and launched himself through the air, throwing himself between the count’s gun and her son. Gabe was behind Ethan. She couldn’t see…She couldn’t see…
“Nicky!”
The sound of the pistol shot cut across her scream, breaking it off, causing her to catch her breath in horror. And then, before she could see, before she could even react, another shot slammed into the stillness…
He was before her. Gabe was before her…What…what…
In Gabe’s hand was a pistol, cold and gray, lethal, aiming straight before him.
And now she could see. The count sagged where he stood. A bloodred bloom was spreading over his waistcoat. His eyes were wide, astounded, as if he’d been caught unawares…His hand lifted and then fell. His gun clattered to the floor…
There’d been two shots. Two!
“Nicky,” Callie screamed again and tried to shove Gabe aside. He caught her as he’d catch a child and held her.
“Let me…”
“Ethan,” Gabe said urgently and set her aside. She grabbed Nicky, hauled him to her, hugged as if she’d never let him go.
“Did he hit you? Oh God, Nicky, did he hit you?”
“Mama, no…Mama, Mr. Delaney…”
She stared down at Nicky, unable to believe he was really unhurt. But there was nothing. No blood. No hurt.
Mr. Delaney…
Finally she dared look at the other players in this horror.
The count’s still form lay crumpled over the gun, his eyes staring lifelessly up at the ceiling.
Count Anton was dead. Dead. It was over at last. Nicky was alive and Count Anton was dead. And Gabriel was alive.
And Ethan…
“Damn, I wasn’t fast enough,” Gabe was saying, pushing his friend into an armchair and examining his arm in concern. “Damned hero…”
“Just winged me in the shoulder, sir,” Ethan gasped. “Nothin’ serious.”
“Mr. Delaney, you saved my son’s life,” Callie managed, even now unable to believe the nightmare was past. “How can I ever thank you?” Somehow she forced herself to let Nicky go.
Averting her gaze from the count’s lifeless form, she stepped forward and tried to see the damage. “Here…here, let me help you.” She pulled out a tiny lace handkerchief and began to mop up blood. It was completely ineffectual. The blood oozed from between her fingers.
“I’ll be fine, ma’am,” Ethan said, looking an entreaty up at Gabe.
“He’ll be fine,” Gabe reiterated, gently moving her aside.
“It’s not even hit muscle by the look of things.
Winged is what he’s been. What we need is a pad.
” He cast a look of distaste at the floor, at the count.
“Callie, my dear, fetch the landlord. We need to get rid of this offal and we need some clean rags.”
“I need to help Eth—” she started.
“You need to take care of your son,” he told her. “You need to hug him and get him out of here while we clean up. This is no place for you and the child. I’ll take care of Ethan. You hug Nicky—and Nicky, you hug your mother.”
She gave Nicky a hug then released him. “Gabriel, this blood was shed because of me and my child, so give me your handkerchief and let me do what I must,” she told him.
Reading the determination in her eyes, he handed her his handkerchief. She knelt and pressed it to Ethan’s wound. “I’m not the least bit bothered by blood,” she informed Gabriel.
“So I see,” Gabriel stood back, a faint smile on his face. “That will teach you to be a hero,” he told Ethan.
The landlord, having heard the shots, burst into the room.
“Ah, landlord, some brandy, please, and a quantity of clean linen,” Callie ordered over her shoulder.
“Were that a gunshot? In my inn?” the man demanded. He saw the count’s body on the floor and recoiled. “Is he—is that—?”
“Yes, there is a dead body, but don’t worry, Captain Kordovski will remove it, won’t you, Captain?”
“Y-yes, of course, Princess.” Captain Kordovski was still in shock at the count’s blatant attempt on the crown prince’s life.
The landlord’s eyes bulged. “Princess?”
“Yes?” Callie responded. “Landlord, the brandy? The clean linen? Make haste, if you please. There is a man bleeding here!”
“Yes, Yer Royal ’Ighness.” The landlord bowed deeply and hurried off.
Later Captain Kordovski explained. The day after Princess Caroline and Prince Nikolai had disappeared Count Zabor—no, uncle Otto was not dead—had officially frozen all of Count Anton’s property and assets pending an inquiry into the prince and princess’s disappearance.
He’d accused Count Anton of murder, but Count Anton had claimed their disappearance had nothing to do with him, and that the princess and her son had been stolen by enemies of Zindaria.
“But you weren’t stolen, were you, Princess?” Captain Kordovski finished. “Not by this man or any other.”
“No,” she told him. “Mr. Renfrew never stole me, nobody did. But he has saved me and my son, over and over, and I married him of my own free will.”
Every generous word was like a knife in Gabe’s heart. He hadn’t saved anyone. And he’d blackmailed her into marrying him under the guise of protecting her son. And then failed to do it.
Captain Kordovski continued, “Count Anton left Zindaria, insisting he could find the prince and princess. He vowed to get them back, safe and sound.”
“I suppose it was that or become a pauper and a pariah in his own country,” Nash interjected.