Addicted to the Duke (Imperfect Lords #1)(71)

“That won’t be necessary, sir.”

David slowly turned at the sound of the stranger’s voice.

“Lady Hestia won’t be marrying anyone but me.”

Those were the last words David Foxhall ever heard as a bullet hit him right between his eyes.

—

The sound of the gunshot woke Hestia from sleep. She tried to push out the fog inside her head. Who had been shot? She looked down to see David’s lifeless eyes staring back at her. She started to shake. A noise to her left made her peer up from the hard pew she was lying on and she looked straight into the face of evil. Fredrick Cary. She began to shake even more.

He turned from her and addressed the whimpering clergyman. “Now, sir, you will marry us, and the lady, if she knows what is best for her, will capitulate.”

Still struggling to function, Hestia could do nothing more than lie back on the pew and watch her wedding as if in a dream.





Chapter 20


Alex crouched near the back entrance to the stone chapel straining to hear any sound. It was far too quiet for his liking. Perhaps he was wrong and Foxhall hadn’t hidden in the church.

Fear wrapped around him, held tight in a viselike grip on his heart.

The organ beating so fast in his chest told him he’d been foolish not to grab her and never let her go.

“I can’t kill a man in a church.”

Jacob’s fierce whisper broke through Alex’s fear. “That is what Foxhall is counting on. Besides, I don’t want to kill him, just send a message that Hestia is not his.”

“So what’s our plan then?”

“We go in and bring him out.”

“I see. Do I need to remind you he has Lady Hestia? How are we going to force him out?”

If he knew the answer to that they wouldn’t still be crouched at the back door.

“David won’t hurt me. We are friends. He sure as hell won’t hurt Lady Hestia.”

“Aye, he won’t kill her, but you?”

Alex swallowed hoping he was right. “Why would he kill me after all the efforts he’s made over the years saving me? We shall just have to be persuasive.”

“Where a woman is concerned, I’ve found friendships count for little,” Jacob whispered as they entered the sacristy.

The room had no windows and they had to wait for their eyes to adjust to the dim light coming in the open door behind them. Alex could see light under the door into the church ahead of them and quickly made his way across. He put his ear to the sturdy wooden door but could hear nothing. He hoped the door didn’t creak as he pried it open an inch. He couldn’t see anyone near the altar, but thought he saw a shape near the pews.

Jacob and Alex stealthily crept forward, and what Alex saw sent him racing across the cold stone floor just as Costa and his men entered from the front. Costa halted by Alex and crossed himself.

“It’s the devil’s work. Who would kill a man in the Lord’s house?”

David. David was dead. On the stone floor near the altar. Alex closed the lifeless eyes of his onetime friend.

He could not get any words past the fear that David’s death instilled in him. He let the fear race free through his veins; it gave him the strength he needed to concentrate and take action. Someone had taken Hestia, and he prayed it was Fredrick, not Murad.

“Over here, he’s still alive.”

Alex raced over to the middle pew only to see the vicar lying on his back, gasping for breath, with a huge crimson stain over his chest. The wound was not survivable.

Alex leaned down, his ear close to the dying man’s mouth. “Who did this?”

At first Alex could not make out the words through the man’s bloody gurgle. Then he heard “Cary.”

He stood up and let Costa’s men try to make the dying man comfortable while the local Catholic priest arrived to give him his last rites. Two men carried out David’s body. Alex could not worry about him now. He had to rescue Hestia.

“It was Cary.”

“Better Cary than Murad.”

Alex wanted to agree, but that would be like agreeing a shark was better than a lion.

“He can’t have got far. Jacob, send the men to the seashore. He’ll have come by boat.” Alex strode out of the church heading toward the shore, bellowing orders as he went.

Jacob jogged beside him. “We would have seen a ship sail in.”

“He doesn’t need to sail a larger schooner into the bay. It’s far easier to slip in on a smaller boat, one we were not looking for, and have the schooner waiting on the other side of the narrow passage, in the ocean, for a quick escape.”

“Surely the men on the Angelica would have stopped the schooner.” Jacob’s curses issued forth into the night. “I have been sloppy. I didn’t think to tell the men to be wary of a schooner, or to look for small transfer boats.”

“We’ve both been stupid. Let’s hope Hestia doesn’t pay for that with her life.”

Jacob pulled out his gun as they continued down to the beach. Ned came running to greet them.

“A small craft headed out toward the gap only fifteen minutes ago. I’ve already had the men follow the boat. They can only be ten minutes behind; they’ll have the Angelica ready by the time we get out of the bay.”