Chapter 17 #3
Kerr’s chest worked to pull air into his lungs and he stared at his unfired weapon.
As it turned out, it was not over.
Because naturally, in the face of chaos, hell, and terror, there could only be more chaos.
Nearby. This time, for the first time, swiftly at its heels rather than the source of it—the McQuoid’s.
There came thunderous shouts and screams, bellows all over the cottage property.
Mr. Diggory, who by all intents, though sprawled, tied, bleeding, and shrieking, didn’t appear headed to meet his namesake that day.
Kilmartin checked the pulse of the man he’d hammered on the back of the head. Hit him for good measure, and casually strolled inside.
The rogue, always all smiles, grinned like he and Andromena met for a set. “Miss Smith, are you well?”
Then, an always ebullient Andromena, smiled in return at the handsome captain. “I—”
“Oh, yes, the lady’s never been better.” Kerr knew he was meant to be relieved and grateful above all else. He tried to say thank you. He really tried. “Get the hell out, Kil—”
Kilmartin, being the bastard that he was, offered a hand to help Andromena up.
When Kerr found his feet, he dragged her far away from the other man’s grasping fingers.
But now, holding her and knowing she was safe, and that he and Andromena had a future together, blunted some of his animosity.
“Kilmartin?” Kerr shouted after him. “Thank you!”
The moment they were alone, Kerr set her away only long enough to check for himself that she was unharmed. “Are you—”
“No! Yes. I mean I’m fine,” she laughed between tears.
Kerr decided he would allow her happy tears.
He looked down at her, still tucked safely in his arms. The threat of danger to her had passed, but a slow trembling took hold of his body. Squeezing his eyes, Kerr tightened his hold embrace. “I almost lost you,” he said thickly.
“But you didn’t. Oh, Edgar,” she murmured, stroking his cheeks. “I hate your tears.”
That’s when he realized he was crying, and he didn’t even care. Where this woman was concerned, he had no ego, no pride.
They found their way to the windows, together, and assessed the scene outside—and discovered more bad news on the day.
“Edgar?”
“Hmm, lass?” he said, not letting her go.
The threat of danger passed, and her family was alternately sorting through the investigator whom they’d, by what Kerr could deduce, brought with them from London. The McQuoid’s, Smith’s, Ellsby’s, and Tremaine’s had no intention of leaving.
“It appears my entire family is here.”
He skimmed the crowd. “The men.” Whereas Andromena had rushed to the danger. A fresh swell of emotion filled his throat. There was no one like her.
“That was good of them to come,” she said cheerfully.
“Yes. It was. Every last single one of—”
“Behave. They saved the day.” Her eyes brightened. “Look there!” She pointed across the overgrown gardens. “You said my brothers don’t take care of me, but Oleander is standing over Mr. Diggory.”
As if hearing his name, Oleander planted a boot firmly on the street thug and waved wildly up at Andromena. “I took him down for you—” He glanced Kerr’s way. “Not you.”
“Thank you for that,” Kerr drawled.
“You did have some help.” Someone muttered.
Andromena blew her twin brother a kiss.
“A fine job, lad!” Captain McQuoid extolled. Naturally all praise ended when he notched his chin Kerr’s way. “It must sting that you couldn’t save my cousin, eh, Kerr?”
Kerr’s jaw tightened, but before he could issue the standard Captain McQuoid insult, soft fingertips touched his sleeve.
The other man faded to nothing, and Kerr turned to the woman who was his everything.
“Since we will be married, you can no longer use the McQuoid name as an insult,” she explained in her governess tones—but then his mind drifted as he imagined her using those governess tones and—she pinched him. “No, More, McQuoid, Insults.
Kerr winced. He pressed a hand solemnly against his heart. “I would never dare insult a McQuoid. I was merely going to say how much fun awaits me when I’m married to my McQuoid lass.”
From beyond the windowsill, a chorus of snorts and responses rose.
Kerr snuck a crude finger out.
As Andromena stroked her palms over his chest, Kerr was discovering it was actually very easy to ignore them when the siren was about.
“Then you would have heard my question,” she said, looking at him beneath a fringe of silken lashes.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to remind me, love,” he said thickly.
Going up on tiptoe, she hovered her lips, very near his mouth. “I want you to tell me all the fun that awaits me when I’m your viscountess.” Then, she fluttered her lids; that same flutter that had knocked him on his arse one snowy winter day on the way to a wedding.
It still did.
He sucked in sharply through his nose.
And leaning close, Kerr traced the shell of her ear with his breath, promising in great, forbidden detail all the very fun things he would do to her.
The End