Chapter 14

Shots Fired

L ater, when the coast was clear, Miles escorted Briana and Maude to their awaiting closed carriage. Once he had handed them both inside, he was just stepping in to join them when he yelled in surprise as he was pulled backward with such force that the door slammed shut, leaving Maude and Briana staring at one another with puzzled expressions.

Briana pulled the curtain back and peeked out the window and gasped in shock, for Miles and Victor were engaged in a rather bizarre scuffle outside the carriage, both attempting to reach for the door handle. They grappled, shoving, pushing and pulling one another in a half-standing wrestling match. Victor eventually prevailed, and Miles landed in the dirt.

Suddenly, the carriage door opened, and Victor stepped inside, slamming it behind him. His cravat was askew, his hair in disarray, and he had sustained a tear in the left lapel of his coat. He appeared slightly out of breath.

"My most sincere apologies, but there has been a change of plans. I shall escort you both home," he said, seating himself beside Briana and gesturing for her to move aside. Ignoring Briana's shocked expression, he addressed her chaperone. "Miss Maude, I presume? I am deeply honored to make your acquaintance. Lord Victor Cambridge, at your service." He bowed over Maude's hand as the carriage moved away, then proceeded to charm the very stockings off the usually cantankerous Maude.

Throughout the carriage ride home, he kept stealing heated glances at Briana until she could no longer suppress her blushes. Briana realized for the first time how dangerous it was to be anywhere in the vicinity of Victor Cambridge—not merely to her reputation and innocence, but there was so much at stake with her dealings with the earl and Mendoza.

Upon their arrival at her Pall Mall residence, Victor gallantly stepped outside and assisted Maude first, handing her off to Renwick. While Maude was thus distracted, he turned to assist Briana. As he grasped her gloved hand to help her descend onto the street, Victor leaned close and lightly brushed his lips across hers before anyone could see. The gesture was so swift and subtle that Briana wondered if she had imagined it. Then he whispered, "When next we meet, I shall devour every inch of your person. Consider yourself warned, Miss Briana." Their gazes clashed, and Briana knew he meant it as a solemn promise. She drew in a sharp breath. But before she could step away, they heard a loud blast in the distance before something flew past, grazing Victor's sleeve.

He felt the sting and touched his arm. Blood came away on his hand. Still somewhat stunned, Victor initially thought he had accidentally scraped his arm on the iron door jamb. But when he looked closer, he saw something embedded in the carriage door—a bullet. Then he heard another shot ring out.

Victor roared, "Down! Someone is firing upon us!" as he yanked Briana away from the carriage door and shielded her body.

The second bullet whizzed past and lodged inside the carriage. "Run!" he shouted at Renwick and Mr. Mason. He was relieved to find both men already in motion. Renwick had hustled Maude through the front door, while Mr. Mason had drawn his pistol and was running toward the direction from whence the shots had come. Trust the man to run toward danger rather than away from it.

Victor hoisted a still-shocked Briana over his shoulder and ran for the front door. He placed her on her feet inside, commanded Renwick to protect the ladies, then slammed the door shut. Drawing a pistol from his inside coat pocket, he sprinted up the side alleyway after Mr. Mason.

Victor arrived just in time, for Mr. Mason was currently engaged in combat with two rather burly men. Victor instantly entered the fray to even the odds. After one hell of a fist fight, the two men lay unconscious upon the ground. Victor and Mr. Mason looked worse for wear, but at least they had emerged victorious. Victor trained his pistol on the men while Mr. Mason returned to the carriage to fetch some rope to bind them. They would have to summon the Bow Street Runners; the men would be spending the night in a holding cell.

Once the task was complete, Mr. Mason said, respect evident in his eyes, "Well, it appears you are no mere dandy, my lord."

"And you, sir, are clearly not just a pretty face," Victor replied with a roguish grin.

Briana suddenly appeared in the alleyway.

"What the devil are you doing here with that thing? Where is Renwick? He was charged with protecting you," Victor growled.

"I sent him to fetch the night watchman, and besides, I have a weapon."

"Do you even know how to use that thing?"

"Of course I do! You just point and shoot. How hard can it be?" Briana replied, wielding a large rifle with the muzzle pointed directly at Victor and Mr. Mason.

Mr. Mason swiftly reached across and tipped the muzzle down and away from them.

"Oh, sorry. I keep forgetting not to point it at people when not in use," Briana said, slightly embarrassed.

"Lord help us all," Victor replied sarcastically.

Briana merely scowled in return.

Several moments later, Renwick returned with the night watchman and a Bow Street Runner in tow. The two men were unconscious, so the runner arranged for them to be transported to the jailhouse at Fleet Street for the night. Victor would question them first thing in the morning.

Once they were all back in Briana's drawing room, she noticed Victor kept wincing. It was then she realized his arm was bleeding.

Victor was stunned when Briana gasped, "Victor! You've been shot!"

"'Tis nothing, merely a scratch."

"It is not just a scratch, you contrary man. Sit down this instant!" she demanded, with genuine worry and concern.

"It is fine—just a graze. The bullet missed."

"Then why is there so much blood?" she replied, an almost fearful expression crossing her features on his behalf.

Victor stilled when he realized Briana was truly worried about him. The concern was etched upon her countenance. It was futile to argue, for she was already issuing orders and gathering supplies to clean and bind the wound. If that did not make her even more attractive! He sat in her drawing room, having been relieved of his coat and shirt. He was bare-chested while she cleaned and gently applied a salve to the wound, then bound it with a bandage. Her movements were gentle but swift and efficient. Victor simply watched her, itching to tuck the loose tendril of hair that had fallen across her face. Whether she was climbing a terrace, storming down an alleyway with a pistol, or nearly in tears because the thought of him being hurt while protecting her—all of it intrigued him and made her the most alluring creature he had ever met.

"My lord, I thank you for protecting me, but you really should not be throwing yourself in front of bullets for my sake. Such reckless actions could see you killed," Briana said as she tied the knot on his bandage. She worked hard not to stare at his magnificent chest.

"You were not impressed with my heroics, I presume?" Victor replied with a knowing smirk.

"No, I was not. A simple shout of warning would have sufficed," Briana said, her gaze still fixed upon his chest.

"Briana, my eyes are up here. If you keep staring at me thus, I may need to take matters into my own hands."

Briana gasped and immediately looked away. "I was not staring at anything in particular and pray refrain from using my Christian name. It is far too intimate," she huffed.

Victor leaned forward and whispered, "I've had my tongue on your nipples, Briana. I rather think we've gone beyond formalities, do you not?"

Briana suppressed a shudder, for the way he spoke those wicked words, she felt it all the way to her core. She immediately threw his shirt at him and squeaked, "I think you need to get dressed."

Victor grinned and leisurely lifted his arms to don his shirt, making certain to flex every muscle in his torso. He began chuckling when Briana blushed and averted her eyes. "If it helps, Briana, I give you leave to call me by my given name also. You did so before when you were so concerned you could scarce keep your hands from me."

"That is utterly preposterous! I was merely trying to stop the bleeding."

They remained silent for several moments, and seeing as they had been momentarily left alone in the room, Victor decided it was time to broach another topic.

"Seeing as we are alone, I must ask you again: what were you doing at the rally, and more specifically, why did you go to Pinchbeck's afterward?"

Briana paled. She could scarce believe he knew about Pinchbeck. That was too close to home and sobered her immediately. Victor was dangerous. "So, you have been stalking me. That is a gross invasion of my privacy!"

"What are you hiding? Who was the man you met at Pinchbeck's? I must know whether you're involved in something nefarious."

"How dare you pry into my affairs! You have no right to follow me, nor any right to know why I do what I do."

"Oh, but I have every right. I am a loyal subject of the Crown, and I must ensure you're not doing anything to jeopardize the king or the Prince Regent."

"The king? Are you in earnest? What are you—a government spy or something? You have no say over what I do, which has naught to do with king or country!"

Victor's eyes flickered. He could scarce tell her about his spying. "I merely meant it is most unladylike to be traipsing across the whole of London at night, arranging assignations with different men."

"I beg your pardon! I think you are bordering on plain rudeness. If you are implying what I think—that I am some sort of wanton, wild woman—then I suggest you leave at once."

"I did not say that. I am merely saying that in the short time I have known you, you seem to have a penchant for gallivanting about the countryside with little to no regard for your reputation or personal safety."

"My reputation? Can you hear yourself? I am not the one who parades at theatres with paramours straight after attending balls and sweeping unsuspecting debutantes off their feet. I am not the one who has some stranger shooting at him in the middle of the night. You, sir, are a rake, a cad, a libertine, and you dare accuse me of ruining my reputation?"

"Briana! Stop misinterpreting what I'm saying."

"Or what, Victor? Are you going to accuse me of running a bawdy house next?"

"Stop deflecting. Why were you at the rally and then Pinchbeck’s? Tell me!"

"No, I shall not. It is none of your business."

"Fine, then. I shall take my leave."

"Good!"

"Perfect!"

"Smashing!"

"Bravo!"

Victor had his shirt tucked in and his coat back on as he began making his way to the door in a feral mood. "Make sure to secure the house and stay put!"

"Do not tell me what to do," Briana replied, both of them striding towards the front door whilst bickering the entire way down the hall.

"I would not dream of it!" Victor replied with a scowl.

"Make certain you keep your wound dry, lest it become infected," Briana demanded.

"Now who is telling whom what to do?" he snapped.

"Very well, then. Do as you please and catch a fever and perish, you impossible man."

"I should gladly die knowing I defied you, you stubborn chit!"

"Good riddance," Briana said, opening the door.

"Goodbye!" Victor replied, slamming it shut behind him.

Briana stood upon the threshold fuming when the door abruptly opened again. Without warning, Victor stepped back inside, reached out, clasped her around the waist, bent his head and slammed his lips upon hers. Much to his satisfaction, Briana returned his passionate kiss with equal fervor. Once they separated, breathless, she said, "You must cease kissing me; it is most unseemly."

"I shall endeavor to improve next time," he replied and brushed his lips across hers once more.

"Stop this at once. People shall begin to talk."

"Let them," he rasped, then grinned. He gave her another quick kiss before departing through the door. "Lock it," he shouted from the other side.

"I was going to, you bossy man," she called in return.

"I see you always must have the last word," he shouted.

"Indeed, I do not!" she yelled in reply.

She heard Victor chuckling as she watched him through the side window, descending the stairs to hail a hackney.

Briana leaned her forehead against the window jamb. Her fingers brushed her lips, still feeling the heat and tingling sensation there. Victor Cambridge was seducing her one kiss at a time, and she had to admit she loved it. She kept playing over and over again all that had transpired between them—from the terrace to the way he had shielded her from a bullet with no thought for his own safety, to his recent kisses.

Briana straightened and mentally shook herself. She needed to remain focused. Victor Cambridge was a gentleman, but if he knew the truth about who she was, he would have nothing to do with her. And she had too much honour to lead him on whilst living a complete lie. No, this had to end, sooner rather than later.

As Victor made his way home, he realized he needed to protect Briana. He knew someone was trying to kill him. They had almost succeeded and, unfortunately for Briana, they had nearly shot her in the process. He was reeling over this, but he knew it had to do with his work for the Crown. He could not bring danger to Briana; he simply could not. This had been the second time someone had tried to shoot him. The first was when he was near the tavern chasing the young lad. The second was now. If they had any chance of a future, he would first have to keep her safe by discovering who was trying to kill him. Anything less than that would not do.

MEANWHILE, BACK AT Lancaster's Ball, Miles, Brenton, and Sebastian put their heads together as Miles imparted the strange turn of events.

"Victor is head-over-heels in love with Miss Walsh."

"And you know this because?"

"Because he insisted upon escorting her home and nearly came to fisticuffs for the privilege."

"Good heavens, he has it rather bad."

"If only we had known, we could have engineered a way for Mother to trap them on the terrace instead of breaking up their tendre," Brenton said.

"What do you mean?" Sebastian asked.

"We were hiding from Mother when we happened upon them both, and in a panic, we all concealed ourselves. But now when I think upon it, we caught them moments away from doing something rather risqué on the terrace."

"Indeed, I did notice that pot plant, plus the fact Victor's hair was quite mussed."

"And Miss Walsh's dress was slightly crumpled. She also had that look of an innocent well and truly kissed. In fact, I would wager that they were having a secret tryst when we rudely interrupted them."

"You don't say?" Sebastian replied. "That is brilliant news."

"There you are!" Vincentia said, startling her three sons. They attempted to escape, but she said, "Cease at once! I have a task for you three, right now."

"What is it?" Sebastian asked warily.

"I believe Lucas and Miss Drummond are secreted away in the orangery as we speak. Come along, then."

"What for?"

"I need to entrap them, and I cannot very well do it alone, can I? Your father is hiding somewhere eating cake."

The brothers sighed and followed their mother reluctantly. They had learned from their father that resistance was futile once their mother got an eccentric thought in her head.