To Save a Lord
Ladies Always Shoot First
Book Two
Summer Hanford
A Scarsdale Publishing Half Hour Read
To Save a Lord Book Two Ladies Always Shoot First
Copyright © 2017 by Summer Hanford
All rights reserved
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design: R Jackson Designs
Cover Art: Period Images
SP
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Epilogue
One Shot for a Gentleman
Chapter One
K itty clamped her tongue between her teeth as she concentrated on lining up her shot, one dainty slipper on her pall-mall ball. A more recent trim of the lawn would have ensured she could knock Winston’s ball into the forest, but the Duke of Southwood’s groundskeeper hadn’t been round. Kitty drew back her mallet.
“Don’t miss, Kit,” Winston said, too loud, and near enough that his breath stirred her chocolate-colored ringlets.
She didn’t flinch. Winston, his twin brother Nathan, and their sister Annabel were Kitty’s lifelong playmates. She knew their tricks. A firm whack sent Winston’s ball racing across the lawn.
“No,” he cried, in dramatic despair.
“Prize shot, Kit.” Nathan slapped her on the back.
She grinned, rocked forward slightly by the force of his friendly clout. The twins seemed to forget she’d stopped growing some time ago, while they’d gone on to reach a towering six feet. Holding her breath as Winston’s ball slowed, Kitty rooted for it to reach the tree line. It rolled into the shaded fringe and lodged in a deep pile of last year’s leaves. Deeper in the forest, something large moved.
“What was that?” she asked.
“That was you taking Winston out of the game,” Nathan crowed.
“No. That movement. Like a person in the woods.”
The twins exchanged a guarded look.
“All right, out with it.” Kitty glared at them. “Or I’ll use this mallet on you two.”
Nathan shot a look over his shoulder, where their father and hers stood in deep conversation with the Duke of Southwood and their brother, Harry. Harry, who was far too serious, had never been part of their foursome, being six years older than the twins, who were two years older than Kitty and Annabel.
Beyond the gentlemen, Annabel sat with Kitty’s mother and hers, the three women picturesque against the backdrop of the duke’s castle-like manor. Annabel didn’t appear as disgruntled about her role as hostess as Kitty would have predicted. Perhaps, in her considerably round state, Annabel was happy for the excuse not to stand on her feet on the lawn in the bright summer sun. Her giant Italian Mastiff, Caesar, a gift from Harry, sprawled beside her chair.
“Let’s go find Winston’s ball,” Nathan said.
“But it’s your shot, and you’re one good stroke away from besting Kit,” Winston said.
Nathan jerked his head in the direction of the others. “Let’s go a bit away from them,” he said out of the side of his mouth.
Kitty marched alongside Nathan and Winston toward the forest. Her grip on her mallet tightened. Stopping under the reaching branches, she rounded on them. “What’s going on? Was there a man in the forest?”
They leaned close, their two blond heads identical. Kitty looked back and forth between them. Annabel’s twin brothers were handsome, according to other women, and indistinguishable, but not to her. They were too much like brothers for Kitty to find them attractive, and she could tell them apart with ease. Anything else aside, Winston was a much more fastidious dresser.
“Likely a footman,” Nathan said, his voice low.
“There’s a bit of a to-do,” Winston added.
“About what?”
The twins exchanged another aggravatingly knowing look.
“Tell me,” Kitty demanded. “You know I’ll find out somehow.”
“Our fathers’ business dealings have attracted some unwanted attention.” Nathan’s expression turned serious. “Threats have been made.”
“Threats?” Kitty scoffed. “That’s ridiculous, and barbaric.”
“And likely just talk.” Winston shrugged. “Still, we’re all here until it blows over, and the duke has extra footmen about.”
So that was why they’d remained at Duke Southwood’s for as long as they had. She’d suspected something was amiss. It wasn’t odd for Annabel to invite her family and Kitty’s to visit, but they’d already stayed far longer than was usual.
“And none of you thought I should know?” Kitty glared.
“It’s likely nothing, Kit,” Nathan said.
“Don’t trouble your pretty little head over it.” Winston grinned.
“Pretty little head, indeed.” Kitty rolled her eyes. “Well, that’s nowhere near as interesting as I’d hoped.” She nodded toward Winston’s ball, hardly visible in the pile of soggy leaves. “You may as well concede defeat and retrieve you ball, since we’re here.”
Winston’s grin widened and he exchanging a look with his brother. “Only if you help us with a scheme.”
Kitty shook her head. “No schemes. After last summer, I promised my parents no more schemes.”
“It’s just a little one,” Nathan said. “You hardly need do a thing.”
Kitty peeked around them at her parents. She’d been the perfect daughter since her plan to have Annabel abducted by her fiancé, the duke, had turned out so miserably. Kitty had nearly gotten herself and the duke killed, and had done great harm to her reputation. Annabel hadn’t found the incident funny in the least.
That was nearly twelve months ago. A long, boring year of mind-numbing goodness. With her reputation tarnished and Annabel spending little time in town over the winter, Kitty wandered aimlessly, friendless and unpartnered at nearly every event. Only Annabel’s brothers, Nathan, Winston and even Harry, had danced with her.
She studied them. “What sort of a scheme?”
“I told you we could count on Kit.” Winston turned his jovial look on Nathan.
“The duke is holding a shooting contest tomorrow,” Nathan said.
Kitty nodded. Annabel had complained vehemently when informed only men could participate. Kitty suspected the duke didn’t want his pregnant wife firing a pistol.
“Southwood’s put up a fat purse,” Winston said.
“Either of us could win. We’re crack shots.” Nathan’s tone was devoid of hubris.
“Harry’s a better shot,” Kitty said. “Even better than Annabel.”
“Exactly.” Winston gave an emphatic nod. “Which is why he needs to be distracted.”
“We figure, what with the threats, that if you happen to walk out alone tomorrow morning, and we mention it, Harry will insist we search for you.” Nathan gestured toward the forest.
“Then, we’ll split up and double back, and Harry will go on looking,” Winston finished.
“What do you say, Kit?” Nathan offered an infectious grin.
She resis
ted the urge to smile back. “I say no. What if everyone comes looking? I can’t have my father think I’ve wandered off. You have no idea what trouble I’d get into.”
“No, that’s the beauty of it,” Nathan said. “No one else will know. Harry will keep it hushed. He cares about you too much to go to either of our fathers or the duke. He won’t want to get you in trouble.”
Kitty chewed on her lip, thinking.
“We’ll give you ten percent,” Winston offered.
“Ten? I’d want forty.”
“We’re the ones who will do the actual shooting,” Nathan protested.
Kitty shook her head. “I won’t do it. It’s mean to abuse Harry’s good nature.” She did her best to appear haughty. “One of you will just have to up and beat your big brother.”
“Awe, come on, Kit,” Nathan pressed.
“Twenty percent,” Winston offered.
“Absolutely not,” Kitty said. “Now, Winston, do you concede or not?”
The twins maintained a huff the remainder of the afternoon, but relented by evening. As an apology for being petulant, they each snuck whisky to her. Normally, they only smuggled her a taste when the menfolk rejoined the ladies in the parlor, but she accepted their apology as her due. It wasn’t until her head started to spin that she realized perhaps two teacups full of whiskey was a bit excessive.
“Excuse me.” Kitty stood. Everyone looked at her. “I think I took too much sun today.”
Her face did feel hot. The room tilted. She made her way carefully to the door, nodding in reply to well-wishers. She hoped she didn’t look as off-kilter as she felt.
Out of sight, she kept one hand against the hallway wall. Her feet were nearly too heavy to take the stairs. Why the duke needed so many steps, she didn’t know, but she clung to the railing until she reached the top. Swaying, she peered down the hall. Was it longer than before?
Careful not to dislodge any revered ancestors in their frames, she kept a steadying hand on the wall and started forward. She didn’t hear the footsteps until she reached her door. Hand shaking, she fumbled for the knife she kept in her bodice, a precaution after last summer’s incident, but the sheath held tight. Heart pounding, she whirled to face her stalker.
Harry reached out and caught her as she pivoted toward the floor. “What did those lackwits do to you?”
“Lackwits?” Kitty repeated, overjoyed to find her stalker was only Harry. Harry was a funny name, and he was tipping sideways in a funny way. She giggled.
“You think I don’t know they sneak you drinks?”
“I think you do know. You said you know. Don’t you remember? You said it only now.”
Harry shook his head. With strong hands, he grasped her shoulders and eased her against the wall. Kitty smiled gratefully. It was much easier to stand with a wall at her back.
Harry braced a palm against the wall beside her. She realized she was tilting and straightened. She started to slide in the other direction and his free hand grasped her shoulder, pinning her in place. She peered up at him. Taller than his brothers, his hair a darker blond, he loomed over her.
“Your maid is in your room?” He nodded toward her door.
“Is she?”
Harry shut his eyes, a prayer escaping his lips.
Kitty pursed her lips in a pout. She didn’t like his sea green eyes shut. She had to make him open them. “Oh, she is. Yes. She’s in my room.” That must be what he wanted to hear, for he opened his eyes. She frowned. “Why do you want my maid?”
“I don’t want your maid, Kit. I want to make sure someone will take care of you, and I can’t do it.”
“You followed me,” she said.
“Someone had to see you reached your room in a vertical state. My fool brothers never take responsibility for what they do. They went off for a smoke.”
“So you followed me up the steps?”
“I did.”
Kitty blushed. “I’m sure I looked, perhaps, as if I’ve over imbibed.” She squared her shoulders. “I have not.”
Harry smiled, a rare occurrence. “You have.”
Kitty trailed her fingertips over his mouth. “Such a handsome smile.”
Harry stilled. She dropped her hand to his chest. So warm.
“You shouldn’t do that, Kit.”
“Do what?”
He closed his eyes again. “Put your hands on me.”
“Oh Harry, don’t be silly.”
“Or call me Harry.” His voice was low, nearly a growl. “You shouldn’t call me by my Christian name. It isn’t proper.”
“You call me Kit.”
“So I do.” His eyes opened again, deep green like the sea after a storm. “How can someone with the face of an angel be so devilishly tempting?”
A new wave of dizziness swept through her. “Are you going to kiss me?” she whispered.
“That would be wrong.” His gaze wandered over her.
Kitty sighed. “But I want to know what it’s like.”
His eyebrows shot up. “You’ve never been kissed?”
She shook her head, her face heating.
“What about last summer?”
She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think he wanted to kiss me.”
“He’s a fool.”
“Certainly. He tried to kill his own brother, and got banished. That’s foolish.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Oh.” What did he mean? “I was almost kissed once, in your garden, but Annabel showed up with Caesar and he ran away. The gentleman, not Caesar.”
“In my family’s garden?” Harry was growling again. “One of our guests? Who?”
Kitty didn’t think it would be good to tell. “It was three years ago. It was nothing.”
“You were but sixteen.”
She’d made it worse. He was very angry now. She had to make him forget. “You owe me a kiss, Harry. If Caesar hadn’t been there, I would know what it’s like to be kissed.”
He stared at her for a long moment. The world spun slowly. Kitty bit her lip. She’d gone too far.
Harry removed his hand from the wall. His thumb traced her lower lip, teasing it from between her teeth. “You shouldn’t bite your lip, Kit.”
The pressure of his slightly-roughened skin sent tingling pleasure spiraling in its wake. Her breath quickened. Was he going to kiss her? Harry, of all people? It was surprising, yet seemed right. Someone she trusted. Someone she relied on, who watched out for her. Someone she looked up to. Harry was so tall, nearly everyone looked up to him. Kitty giggled.
Harry dropped his hand. The absence made her gasp. He leaned down. Kitty closed her eyes.
His mouth pressed her ear. “Kit, go to your room. Now.” His ragged whisper sent warm breath across her lobe.
She leaned into him.
Kitty stumbled, her eyes flying open. Harry strode down the hall, his shoulders impossibly broad in his jacket. Like a startled mouse, she fled into her room.
Chapter Two
K itty woke to find Harry stretched out beside her, watching her sleep. She smiled, reached for him…and her fingers passed through air. Her eyes fluttered open to the bright light of her bedroom. There was no Harry, but she did have a dull pounding in her head. She squeezed her eyes shut. What had possessed her to drink two teacups full of liquor? After the first one, the second seemed like a good idea, but that was no excuse. Then, she’d stumbled from the room, upstairs and—
And demanded a kiss from Harry.
This was bad. Even for her. She wouldn’t be able to face him.
Or would she? He’d seemed like he wanted to kiss her.
He’d walked away, though.
A knock brought Kitty’s eyes open.
“Kitty?” Annabel called.
“Come in.” Kitty burrowed deeper into the sheets.
Annabel entered, her face solemn. She closed the door before crossing to lower herself carefully onto the edge of the bed. “Kitty, what were you thinking?”
/>
Kitty winced, more for the disappointment in Annabel’s voice than the dull ache in her head. “About?” She’d learned long ago never to offer information. Oftentimes, people didn’t know all of the things she’d done.
“Our parents noticed you were drunk last night. Drunk. In front of both our families.”
“Isn’t that better than being drunk in front of guests?”
Annabel wasn’t amused. “And then Harry came to me this morning, demanding to know who tried to kiss you in the garden three years ago. What possessed you to tell him that? You know how stodgy Harry is.”
He isn’t. He’s noble, and perfect. “I don’t remember.” Had she brought up that long ago almost-kiss? The throbbing in Kitty’s head worsened under Annabel’s stare. “I’m sorry for drinking.”
Annabel let out a long sigh. “I know it wasn’t completely your fault. I’m sure my brothers had a hand in it. Father’s already reprimanded them. Harry has too, from the look on his face when I saw him speaking to them earlier.” She heaved herself off the bed and waddled to the door. “I’d stay and berate you more, but the contest is about to begin and I must find Harry. I can’t imagine where he is. He’d hardly miss a chance to show up Nathan and Winston.”
Annabel slipped from the room. Kitty closed her eyes. She should go back to sleep. No one would be happy to see her. Her mother would give her the look, the one that bemoaned her only child’s unruliness. Her father—
Wait, had Annabel said Harry was missing?
Kitty sat up and called for her maid. Drat Nathan and Winston. Cads, both of them. They hadn’t been apologizing. They’d been scheming. Why did they need Kitty to go off into the woods if they could convince Harry she had? All they needed was to keep her out of sight all morning.
In short order, Kitty dressed, adjusted the bodice knife as she left her room, and stomped through the blessedly empty manor. She went first to the west side and peered out a second floor window at the makeshift shooting range. She didn’t see Harry, but it appeared all the duke’s footmen had been drawn to the spectacle. Winston saw her. He elbowed Nathan and pointed. Both gave her smug grins.
To Save a Lord (Ladies Always Shoot First Book 2) Page 1
