Page 97 of Tempting the Marquess

Chapter21

The foul scentof murder hung in theair.

Trying to ignore his churning stomach and Penn’s cooling, blood-soaked body mere feet away, William slowly, soundlessly got to his feet behind the large chaise he had fallen beside. He only had one opportunity to take Claremont by surprise. Then it would be a fight to the death, and his enemy knew every dirty tactic in thebook.

Taking one last deep breath and whispering a quick prayer to any deity that might be listening, he launched himself toward the earl, slamming hard into his back and wrapping his arms around him in a tight bear hug. It hurt like fiery hell, and the stitches in his shoulder pulled and ripped free, but Claremont grunted and fell forward, the pistol he’d been holding clattering loudly onto the blood-smeared floor. William’s advantage only lasted a moment, and soon they were rolling around, arms and legs flailing as each tried to gain the upper hand. Both grabbed for the pistol, but thanks to the blood that had spurted from Phillipe’s wrist wound it was like a bar of soap, sliding and flipping away each time one of them got close.

“Bastard,” Claremont snarled as they both struggled to their feet, before pulling back his fist and slamming it into William’s abdomen.

It robbed him of breath, but William gritted his teeth and responded with a right uppercut hard enough to snap the earl’s head back. He recovered frustratingly quickly, and they began to trade vicious, bone-crunching punches to face, eyes, chest, and stomach, each trying to land the blow which would be the difference between survival and death. Despair soon crept in—while he was technically far better than Claremont, the earl had two working arms, while William only hadone.

“Stop playing with the marquess, Claremont,” Phillippe slurred from where he lay slumped against the chaise, cradling his blood-soaked arm. “Just killhim.”

The earl looked away for only a heartbeat, but it was all the time William needed for a fierce right hook to the jaw which left the older man temporarily reeling.

The world slowed to a snail’space.

As if he swam through treacle, William threw himself back down onto the floor. Half-sliding, half-crawling forward, his palms and knees burning at the friction and his wounded shoulder screaming, he slapped the ground in front of him until he felt the pistol. Snatching it up, cursing as he fumbled it briefly, William twisted his body into a sitting position, cocked the weapon, and fired.

The thunderbolt of sound echoed through the parlor for eternity. Gunpowder burned his hand, and black spots danced at the edge of his vision. Then Claremont laughed.

His heart sank. He’d missed.

He’d failed.

“William!” shrieked Samantha, from somewhere behindhim.

“Stay back,” he snarled, scrambling onto his knees and frantically searching for another weapon. If Claremont found one first, it was over. The earl would have no hesitation in killing him, Samantha, and the child she carried.

Her cold, clammy hand closed around his, but he brutally shook it free. Did she not understand the danger she was in? Would another exceptional woman be murdered by these criminals because her man couldn’t protecther?

“Bloody hell, Samantha, get back!” he choked out. “Claremont will kill you and I couldn’tbear—”

“No! You shothim!”

William froze, unable to comprehend her words. Then he peered harder at the earl, finally seeing the crimson stain blooming under his dark jacket, and the shocked fury etched on the man’sface.

He’d actually managed to doit?

Equal parts relief and jubilation surged through William as Claremont staggered forward. There was no sweeter sight than the evil bastard reaching out to steady himself on a high-backed chair but missing and falling heavily onto his knees. Yet instead of just fucking dying, Claremont scrabbled on his belly to open the satchel still resting on the floor and retrieve the last remaining pistol.

Triumphantly he pulled it out, his arm shaking as he tried to aim and cockit.

“First rule of battle, Standish,” the earl said, sneering even as he coughed and spat out a mouthful of blood-flecked spittle. “Ensure your opponent doesn’t live to fight another day. You are living proof of how useless some shots are—the bullet must go through the heart or between the eyes. So pleased I’ll now be able to demonstrate…”

But before the earl could pull the trigger, Samantha rushed forward and gathered the dagger she’d used to maim Phillipe. A moment later she’d embedded it in Claremont’s chest. The man made a harsh gurgling sound, jerked once, then twice, and stilled.

“My uncle w-was right,” Samantha whispered unsteadily. “It does have to b-be the heart.”

Slow, weak applause began.

“Bravo, Lady Samantha,” Phillippe rasped. “You are far smarter than your lover’s parents. Richard was an idiot to think he could play our game and win. He might have fooled us for a little while with his stirring words and fervent promises...but I never truly believed he wanted to join us. As for his pretty wife, we were vastly disappointed when she sacrificed herself to try and save him. Who knew Englishwomen felt such grand passion? She would have been one to savor, over andover.”

Cold rage overwhelmed William. Bending down, he ripped the unused pistol from Claremont’s death grip, then walked over to the pale and bleeding Frenchman.

“How fortunate the ledger always balances itself in the end. My father and mother will rest in peace forever. You, however, will rot in hell. Once you have given up all your secrets to the British government, of course. And they will take great pleasure in coaxing you to talk. But for now…this is mygift.”

Then he cocked the pistol and fired the bullet at close range, shattering Phillipe’s knee. The man screamed, and collapsed unconscious.