Page 149 of A Portrait of Love

She needed to get closer.

When she looked up, she saw that he was holding the flaming lantern—or whatever it was—in his left hand and a gun in his right.

“You have three minutes!” he screamed, his words jolting her out of her contemplation.

And then he dropped into a crouch and began stealthily moving toward the window.

There was one last tree between her and Raymond; it was another ten or fifteen feet from her. If she could make it to the tree, that would cut her distance in half. It would still be a difficult shot, but it was the best chance she had before he threw that lantern, which was clearly—

Quit dithering and do it now!

The voice in her head was like the report of a pistol and Honey ran.

It was no more than twenty feet, but it felt like miles.

She expected him to turn any moment and shoot her.

“Two minutes,” he yelled, just as she reached the safety of the tree.

Raymond was crouched beside the window and was fiddling with the lantern; the white cloth began to flame.

“That wasn’t a minute, Raymond. Do you want to borrow my watch,” Simon shouted.

Honey slapped a hand over her mouth, smothering a half-laugh, half-sob; Simon was well enough to taunt.

“This is the last time you will mock me, Simon!” Raymond hollered.

The black smoke began to billow more thickly and Honey saw flames shooting from the lantern itself.

Raymond raised his arm just as a blood-curdling scream came from the direction that Heyworth had run.

Raymond spun around and Honey barely managed to duck out of sight.

He was still clutching the now-flaming lantern, his head jerking back and forth as he searched for the source of the scream. But all was silent.

Honey feared it had to be Heyworth. The other man—Raymond’s groom—must have found him.

She was on her own.

Do it now.

Honey raised the gun with shaking hands and moved toward Raymond, who’d set down the lantern and was smacking his burning cuff against his thigh.

A boot came flying out of the window and Raymond spun around at the noise, kicking the lantern in the process.

Simon hurtled out of the jagged opening, screaming like a creature out of a nightmare. He held a stick in one hand and launched it like a javelin. He hit the ground running but lost his balance and the stick flew wide of its target.

“He’s got a gun!” Honey screamed as Raymond raised the pistol.

Raymond turned at the sound of her voice and Honey squeezed the trigger.

The gun jumped in her palm and Raymond staggered back, stepping onto the still burning lantern. He raised his gun, his arm unsteady, and pulled the trigger just as Simon leaped onto his back, knocking him to the ground.

Honey heard a bang and felt a searing pain in her arm as she ran toward where Simon was sprawled facedown across Raymond’s motionless body.

“Simon?” Honey dropped to her knees beside him.

When he looked up, she saw blood gushing from the side of his neck.