“Yes, she is. She is how I can get you to cooperate. And now that she has heard everything, she is now directly involved in this matter. Do you have any other brilliant suggestions? It would probably be best to get them out of your system now, while I am yet in a generous mood.”
But Anthony still refused to budge.
“You don’t get it, do you, Colin? There’s no way I can be sure of Meredith and Cecilia’s safety once I have helped you. I want a guarantee thatnothing, absolutely nothing harmful, shall befall them.”
“I couldn’t care less what your deranged mind wants to do to me. But unless and until I am certain that my sister and,” he smiled softly at Meredith, “the woman I love are completely out of danger, then I’m not moving a muscle.”
* * *
Although her restraints told her otherwise, Meredith felt like she was suddenly floating midair. She realized that one should not place implicit trust in one’s own senses, for they could sometimes mislead.
For example, she was well aware of reality—that is, that she was being held hostage, bound and gagged by a power-hungry lunatic. However, Anthony’s comment, coupled with his warm gaze towards her, made Meredith feel as though she was once again dancing on the clouds surrounded by exceptionally white sheep. Such is the ability of our treacherous senses and feelings to deceive us.
In fact, Meredith could have even sworn that earlier she heard the sound of a coach arriving. She was tempted to somehow edge her chair a bit closer to the window, so as to be sure, but decided against it in the end for the sake of her own safety. Besides, today was a Sunday. None of Cecilia’s tutors were scheduled to teach, and unless he was alerted to a medical emergency, not even Dr. Wentworth would drop by today.
I most definitely imagined the sound of a coach. I must be becoming delusional like Lord Gillinghamshire.
But Anthony’s expression quickly changed as he noticed something that she hadn’t.
“Colin, why is a rather large bruise beginning to appear on the right side of Meredith’s forehead?”
Even she was surprised to hear that remark.
Although if he is referring to the right side of my forehead from where he was standing, then— Ah, yes, that explains the pain I’m feeling on the left side of my head.
Lord Gillinghamshire also turned his attention toward her.
“That must be Mr. Tulk’s doing. And it is also a brilliant reminder that you are in no position to bargain or refuse my terms. I could easily use the barrel or the grip of this pistol to give her another sizeable bruise so that both sides of her face are symmetrical once more. And once I have exhausted her, I’ll move to Lady—”
Two crucial events happened simultaneously.
One, Anthony lunged at Colin whilst he was in the middle of his sickening monologue, resulting in a loud shot.
Two, the bedroom door directly behind Colin swung open.
Meredith closed her eyes. She couldn’t bear to look.
* * *
Overcome with rage, Anthony charged at Colin. He had but one thought.
He willnothurt her.
When Colin had been looking at Meredith, Anthony realized that he had perhaps an extra second on or two to run at him before Colin saw what was happening and pulled the trigger. It was all he needed.
He knocked the pistol out of his hand, making sure to do so it in the directionawayfrom Meredith. And it was a terribly good decision for, as expected, the pistol had fired, but at least not towards her.
His next priority was to somehow fight off both Colin—who was roughly Anthony’s equal in height and strength—and Mr. Tulk—who would most certainly have heard the shot and would most definitely come into the room to investigate.
But to his dismay, he saw that even before he had knocked the pistol out of his hand, the door was already swinging open. This meant he had even less time than he had originally anticipated. He needed to knock Colin unconscious so that he at least stood a chance of fighting off Mr. Tulk.
Colin attempted to dive past him so that he could grab the weapon, but Anthony threw all of his weight against him. Colin reached for his neck, but only succeeded in grabbing his collar. With great force, he pulled Anthony to the floor and reversed their places. Anthony was now pinned to the floor with Colin’s hands upon his neck.
Perhaps a more sensible man would have given up the struggle at this point. After all, he had crossed a threshold when he charged at Colin. There was very little chance that he would be allowed to continue living after this struggle. And even if he did somehow manage to overpower him, there was still Mr. Tulk, a thickset, hardened criminal with years of experience fighting on both land and sea.
As Anthony drew what were likely to be his final breaths, he turned his head to look at Meredith, for he wanted to silently apologize, even if with just his eyes.
But she wasn’t looking at him. Her eyes were closed and her shoulders trembled violently. He turned his head once more and looked up at his assailant—his brother, his friend—the man with his hands pressing ruthlessly into Anthony’s neck. Colin had made his own mother cry, and now Meredith. Anthony wasn’t going to let him hurt her again. Not her, and not Cecilia.
