“The only place you are going is the afterlife,” Frost said coolly.
“Ah. I’ve never been,” Phillip remarked in an effort to stall for time. Chances were slim to none that anyone would come across them and save him. Thus, he needed a plan, and he needed a moment to think of something. In the meantime, he would bide his time.
“There is a first time for everything,” Frost said.
“Indeed,” Phillip said, focusing his eyes on the man and not the gun in his hand.
“First, we are going to take a walk,” Frost said. “It wouldn’t do to leave your carcass by the side of the road.”
“No, it would be far too easy for someone to discover it,” Phillip replied, thinking of how the Sloan brothers had come across him in the ditch alongside the road. Really, was he going to be left for dead by the side of the road
again
?
Only this time, it was likely Angela who would find him. It was a sight he prayed she’d never see—that of his dead body, or any dead body. He had to protect her from that. He had to protect her from all of this. For what if he did die this morning? And then she and Lady Palmerston would be left at the mercy of this madman. He would have to do something.
But he didn’t know what. Bloody hell, it was hard to think with a pistol aimed at one’s face.
“Exactly,” Lucas answered, stepping closer and closer. He pressed the pistol against Phillip’s throat. “We wouldn’t want your carcass discovered, now would we?”
“You wouldn’t, no,” Phillip said. “But I’ll be dead, so I won’t care one way or another.”
“Not that I give a damn about your cares or wishes.”
“Obviously not,” Phillip said, wincing as Frost jammed the gun a little harder into his throat. “But perhaps you would condescend to tell me why you are doing this?”
“Because she belongs to me, and because I have to marry her. It’s the honorable thing to do.”
“I’m not sure I understand completely,” Phillip said, though he certainly had a clue. He just wanted Frost to keep talking.
“It’s his eyes,” Frost said cryptically, and Phillip was lost. “Wide open, but he can’t see anything. Have you ever seen a dead man’s eyes?”
“No.”
“I see them all the time. I can’t sleep because of it.”
“I’m sorry, but whose eyes?”
“Her father’s. I missed, deliberately. But he died anyway. And it’s my fault. And now I can’t sleep because I see his dead, open eyes. Like he’s watching me, to make sure I do right by her,” Frost whispered. At that, Phillip knew that the man would stop at nothing to marry Angela. The realization was no consolation.
“He’s watching to make sure that I marry his daughter, so that he didn’t die in vain. But she won’t have me as long as you are alive, you see?”
“And what if my eyes remain open after you kill me?” Phillip asked.
“Oh, I brought a blindfold for you. I have learned from my mistakes.”
“Good thinking,” Phillip said, nearly choking on the words.
“Yes. I’ve thought this out completely,” Frost said cryptically. Phillip decided to let it go. He decided to let go of everything. The man was obviously completely and utterly insane, and thus, it would be impossible to reason with him.
With his hands tied and a loaded pistol pressed into his throat, it was impossible for him to fight back. He could run, but he wouldn’t make it far. Any sudden movement, and Frost might pull the trigger in panic.
This was it for him then. His throat was tight, and it was suddenly too hard to manage what would be his last breaths. He could blame it on the dust in the road, but it seemed pointless to deny the truth at this point.
He did not want to die. Not now. Not when he finally had a reason to live. Not when he had promised Angela forever.
Phillip could see no way out for himself, but one chance that Angela might manage to escape. If he could lead Frost far enough way from the carriages, then she might have a chance to drive off after hearing the gunfire. He prayed that she and Lady Palmerston would display the common sense to leave him and flee before Frost could return to them.
“Shall we be off then?” Phillip offered.
“Yes. Go,” Frost said, indicating the direction with a wave of the pistol.
“After you,” Phillip replied graciously. He would have gestured, but his hands were tied.
“I think not,” Frost snarled. And then he cocked the pistol.
“Hmmph.” Lady Palmerston’s unmistakable voice interrupted. Phillip never, ever thought he’d be so glad to hear it. And yet he could not move, not when his body was the only thing between a gun and a woman.
“Angela, I think we shall arrive in town a little later than expected,” Lady Palmerston said, and Phillip’s heart broke to learn that she was here, so close to this madman who wanted to marry her and then do God knows what else.
“It does appear that way, Aunt.”
“Don’t worry, ladies, this shouldn’t take too long,” Frost said.
“It might, though,” Angela remarked. “Phillip is really rather difficult to kill. Lord knows how many have tried and failed already.”
“The lady does have a point,” Phillip grumbled.
“I will not fail,” Frost said so certainly and so coldly that it suddenly seemed as if the temperature had dropped twenty degrees. The man was deadly serious. Phillip wanted so badly to turn around and look at Angela one last time, but he didn’t dare.
“Angela, go back to the carriage,” Phillip said. “You, too, Lady Palmerston.
Please
.” He tried, and failed, to keep the desperation out of his voice.
“Come along, Angela,” Lady Palmerston said quietly and firmly.
Phillip did not hear the sound of her retreating footsteps.
“Now,” Lady Palmerston barked.
“No,” Angela said firmly. She took a few steps forward and stopped when she stood between Phillip and Frost. And the loaded gun.
“What do you think you are doing?” Phillip demanded.
“I’m saving you,” she replied without turning around to look at him.
“No, Angela, you are putting yourself in mortal danger. Please don’t do this.”
“Lucas won’t kill me,” she said gently, looking into Lucas’s eyes. “Because I am want he wants. Isn’t that right, Lucas?”
Over Angela’s head, Phillip could see Frost nod in agreement.
“And you think, Lucas, that you can’t have me as long as Phillip is alive,” Angela continued speaking calmly.
“You belong to me, Angela,” Frost stated. The man seemed enchanted by her.
“If that is true, then it doesn’t matter if he lives or dies, does it?”
“I don’t—wait—where is she going?” Frost asked, noticing Lady Palmerston turning to walk away. He craned his neck to look, but his pistol never wavered. It was still aimed at Angela’s heart. Her attempts to distract him had hit a snag.
“Oh, me?” Lady Palmerston replied. “I was just going to wait in the carriage. This heat is a little much for a woman of my advanced age.”
“How old are you, anyway?” Phillip asked, to queer looks from Angela and Frost. But he was certain, knowing Lady Palmerston as he suspected he did, that she was not going to go wait in the carriage. She may be negligent, but she was nobody’s fool and not a coward. She alone seemed to understand what he was getting at.
“Really, Huntley. You are about to die and you want to know my age?” Lady Palmerston said, playing along.
“I’ll take your secret to my grave,” Phillip said, with a slight nod in the direction of the pistol. “Whisper it to me.”
Lady Palmerston did so.
“I would have never guessed,” Phillip said, sounding impressed. “Advanced years indeed. You have aged remarkably well.” She glared at him so meanly that the look was almost as deadly as the damned gun in Frost’s unshakable hand.
“Now where were we?” he continued. “Oh, right. It doesn’t matter if I live or die, so long as Angela goes with you. So I guess this is good-bye then, darling.” He tried to keep his voice light and that flicker of hope alive, but he truly feared that it might be the end.
“What about a kiss good-bye?” Angela asked Lucas. “And then I will go with you, Lucas. Please, Lucas. I did not get to say good-bye to my father.” At the mention of her father, a strange look came across Frost’s face. The hand holding the gun wavered. Her words had hit a nerve.
“Allow me a proper good-bye this time, and I will forgive you for the past, and then I shall be yours completely,” she said in that intoxicating, bewitching voice of hers. Her voice worked its magic now, and she pushed it for all it was worth. “Forever,” she murmured, her voice low and husky, daring to step closer to Frost. She reached out, slowly, and touched his heart. “Allow me this, and I shall be yours forever.”
“Just be quick about it,” Frost mumbled, oddly enough. He looked away.
Under the hot sun and on the dusty road, with a gun at her back, Angela turned around and pressed her mouth to Phillip’s to kiss him good-bye.
“I love you,” he mumbled against her lips.
“I love you, too,” she responded. Her hands stole around his waist, and she busied herself with trying to untie the knots there. He could feel her fingers fumble with the ends of the rope, grasping and tugging. The pain of the rope moving slightly, digging deeper into his raw flesh, yet never yielding, was agonizing. But it did not compare to the pain of plans gone awry, of dreams of future happiness dying by the side of the road. The rope was tied too tightly, and her hands could not accomplish a task that needed a knife.
“I can’t do it,” she whispered, panicked. Cheek to cheek, he could feel her tears. “I can’t do it. I can’t get the knot out, and I can’t let you go, and I can’t go with him.” She was truly panicking now. He could hear it in her voice and feel it in the way her fingers frantically grasped and tugged. And Phillip wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and tell her everything would be fine.
But he couldn’t.
“Shhh,” he urged. Lady Palmerston would return any second, wouldn’t she? But he couldn’t say that. And he couldn’t be sure that it would matter. He wanted to tell Angela that it would be all right, but he had already broken enough promises to her.
He closed his eyes so he could savor all the more the sensation of her being near. For the last time.
She gave one final, desperate tug, and it loosened.
“What the—” Frost had comprehended what was happening. Angela kept working frantically.
And then she freed him.
“So your hands are no longer tied,” Frost sneered. “But I still have a loaded gun. What the hell are you smiling for?”
“Turn around and see for yourself.”
Curiosity got the better of Frost, and he turned only his head at first, and then turned completely around. He swore.
Lady Palmerston held a pistol of her own, aimed at Frost. She merely arched one eyebrow, and Frost lowered his own weapon.
And then Phillip seized the moment and threw himself at Lucas. They both hit the ground with a thud. The gun was knocked out of Frost’s hands and ended up just out of his grasp. Lady Palmerston kicked it away with her satin slipper.
Frost struggled. Phillip fought back.
Eventually, Phillip managed to grab both of Frost’s wrists, and he held them tightly, pressed into the dirt road. Angela hurried in with the rope and began tying his hands. Frost grimaced as she tied them tightly. She showed him no sympathy but stood beside Phillip.
“This isn’t over,” Frost panted up at them, still struggling.
Lady Palmerston gingerly handed Phillip both pistols.
“Really?” he asked with a pointed look at Frost and then dropping his eyes fleetingly to the weapons in his hand.
“Are you . . . ?” Angela started to ask the question, but couldn’t finish it.
Phillip, with two guns in his hand, stood over Frost, who lay on the dusty road with his hands tied behind his back. There was nothing to be discerned in Frost’s eyes: not fear, not defiance, not guilt, nothing resembling a plea.
Phillip could kill him here and now. Put the man out of his misery and ensure that Frost would never bother Angela and him again. He was a terrible shot, but even he could hit the target from this short a distance.
But Phillip thought about what Frost had said about the cold, dead stare of her father’s eyes. And Phillip thought about what he held in his hands. It was not merely weaponry but power to take away a man’s life. And he thought of the pleasure he could give to Angela with these hands of his.
And he could not imagine touching Angela with hands that had murdered a man. He could not imagine denying them pleasure for the rest of their lives.
“Well?” Frost taunted.
If it were up to him, Phillip would not kill him. But it was not entirely his choice to make. Phillip looked up to Angela, asking her silently with his eyes what she wanted him to do.