“Wonderful,” Ashley muttered. “Now we’ll never get a bath.”
Maddie’s heart leapt into her throat as her father’s rifle swung back toward Mr. Dover’s heart. “Mr. Dover!” she hissed. “Get back!”
Why now? She wanted to cry. They’d been so close. Eight little miles to Gretna Green. Eight, after so many.
And now she’d go home again. In disgrace. “Papa, please put the rifle down. You don’t need to shoot anyone. I’ll come with you.”
“Maddie!” Ashley hissed. “What are you doing?”
Maddie continued to stare at her father, but she spoke out of the corner of her mouth. “As soon as Papa’s distracted, you and Blackthorne run. You can still make it to Gretna.”
“No!”
“Papa, please put the rifle down,” Maddie called.
And she took a step forward and another, but before she could take a third, a hand reached out, grabbed her, and thrust her back toward the carriage.
A gunshot exploded, and Maddie was pushed down hard and covered by a familiar muscular form.
Lord Blackthorne.
“What are you doing?” she screeched, spitting dirt out of her mouth. “Get out of here.” Why hadn’t he stayed hidden?
“I’m not leaving without you,” Blackthorne said. He pulled her up, shoved her in the carriage, then went back for Ashley, who came scrambling in on hands and knees a moment later. The two women crouched on the floor.
Inside the coach, Maddie heard another gunshot. “That wasn’t my father,” she told Ashley. The sound had come from behind the carriage, which meant it was aimed at her father. She crept up to the window, followed by Ashley.
“Oh, no,” Ashley moaned, and Maddie followed her gaze. Lord Nicholas, pistol in hand, was sprinting for the carriage.
“Lord Nicholas!” Maddie screamed. Where had he found a pistol?
And how dare Lord Nicholas shoot at her father? “Papa?” she cried, trying to leap back out of the coach.
But Blackthorne appeared in the carriage door, blocking her exit. “Get down, you little fool.”
He pushed her back, and Maddie tumbled onto the floor again. Blackthorne climbed in behind her, keeping his hand on her, forcing her to stay down. Maddie heard another gunshot, but she couldn’t lift her head. She listened hard as Lord Nicholas clambered on top of the coach and whipped the fresh horses into action.
The carriage jerked violently, and Maddie fell back against the squabs then almost tumbled over. Blackthorne caught her arm and steadied her. Ashley pulled her onto the seat.
“My father?” Maddie cried, fear making her heart clench. “All those gunshots . . . ” She tried to look out the window, but everything was bouncing too much and she couldn’t see. “Papa!”
“He’s fine,” Blackthorne said, reaching across to take her by the shoulders. “Calm down.” His voice and his touch soothed her, made the terror flee, but not the fear.
“I don’t know how the hell he found us, but Lord Castleigh is undoubtedly right on our heels now. Even if we make it to Gretna before him, it’ll be a close thing to marry before he stops us.” He glanced at Ashley.
“But he’s unhurt?” Maddie asked, the fear beginning to claw at her again. “How could Lord Nicholas shoot at him! How dare—”
“Isn’t there anyone else you’re worried about?” Jack asked, and his dark tone felt like an icicle sliding down her spine.
She looked about the carriage, saw Ashley’s shocked expression and Jack’s grim one.
“Oh, Lord! Oh, no! Mr. Dover!”
“I’m sorry,” Blackthorne said quietly, releasing her and averting his gaze.
“Is he—is he—” But she couldn’t say it. If Mr. Dover were dead, she would never forgive herself. His death would be on her conscience, and she knew she would burn in hell forever for ending the poor man’s life. All he had wanted was a mother for his children, and she’d given him shootouts and carriage chases, angry dukes and irate earls.
The hatch above them slammed open and Lord Nicholas peered down. “Hold on!” he called. “They’re coming up behind us.”
