Chapter 17
The earl was pointing a gun at the two women. The rising sun glinted off the barrel of the dueling pistol.
That was all Cameron had time to take in.
He didn’t raise his own pistol in response. Instead, in the span of what felt like a mere heartbeat, he dropped it to the ground, his hand flying to the faithful companion that rested just inside the top of his kilt hose.
A gleam of silver flew through the air.
An instant later a shot rang out.
A woman began to scream.
Horatia flew across the lawn towards where the Earl of Windermere’s body lay sprawled backwards on the grass with Cameron’s sgian dubh embedded in his chest.
Drummond, the second, stood by, his face aghast. The poor man looked utterly unprepared for all that he had heard and witnessed that morning.
“Call for a physician,” Cameron heard the baronet order from behind him as he strode over to the place Horatia had just been standing–beneath the trees where June now stood all alone. Her face was white and her hands were trembling.
“I don’t believe there’s any point to a physician,” June murmured as he reached her. He turned to follow her gaze.
Horatia had stopped screaming. Cameron did not think she had been hurt.
The earl had not moved. He lay where he had fallen. Cameron had seen his fair share of death before. He had no doubt the man would not rise again.
He touched the trunk of the tree June stood in front of. There was a ragged tear in the bark surrounded by a halo of splintered wood. Small pieces of splintered wood were on her shoulders. He brushed them gently off.
“He missed,” she said in wonder.
“Aye, but not by much.” There was cold fury in his voice. She had come so close to death. Did she even know how close?
“He was aiming for Horatia,” she said. “Horatia, not me.”
He closed his eyes briefly. “We’ll never ken that for sure.”
In truth, he wasn’t sure even the earl had known which woman he’d been aiming at. His last words might have been directed at either one of them.
“My dear lady, I’m terribly sorry.” It was the baronet. He looked almost as shocked as June. “My aim was to stop the bloodshed. Not to prompt its outbreak.” Sir Montague took in her white face and misunderstood. “You must be greatly concerned for your reputation. Well, the marriage must be properly annulled. Of course, it was never really valid in the first place…” He cleared his throat. “You may be able to pursue legal actions against the estate. Get back some of the money and property which your husband–which the earl, I mean–spent when he had no right to.”
June was nodding as if she hardly heard him.
Cameron wondered if the news had fully registered yet.
June didn’t care. She didn’t care about her reputation. The money. The estate.
Annulment. That was the one word which finally caught her attention.
Yes, the marriage must be annulled.
But even now, she felt free.
She didn’t need anything–anything but Cameron.
She looked up at him. He was looking down at her, his expression full of concern.
“Will you have me?”
For a moment, he looked startled. “Have ye?”
“Have me. In every way. To have and to hold. As we once promised each other. For me, nothing has changed. Nothing ever changed, Cameron. In my heart, you’ve always been my true husband. My love, tell me. Tell me if you feel the same.”
He didn’t answer.
For a moment, her heart threatened to plunge straight out of her chest.
Then, in an instant, she was lifted into his arms and he was carrying her away.