Free Stand and Deliver Your Love by Killarney Sheffield Page A

back to the trunk. She gathered up as much of the contents as she could and hauled them back to the cloak. After a couple of trips she had most of the trunk’s contents bundled and tied with a broken harness strap across the back of her mare.
    She hoisted the satchel and the folder from the carriage, across the mare’s withers and then led her to a burned out trunk of a tree to mount. Once she was seated in between the two awkward bundles, she headed back down the road to the hidden trail, trying not to look at the dead horses as she passed. When she was once again safely hidden on the little deer trail, she gave the mare her head and allowed her mind to wander. If Byron was in fact guilty of stealing from the king, then why was he heading to London? Had he made up lies to cover his thefts he thought the king would believe? Maybe he wasn't going to London after all. Could he have been hoping to sneak out of England?
    Maybe he wasn't even going to see the king. Perhaps he was going to meet with someone else involved in the deceit, an accomplice.
    Sarah shook her head. What did it matter? She had the papers she needed to ensure Byron’s silence. That was all she wanted. After all, he must be worth a large amount of money.
    She could count on his financial support for many years to come unless he wanted his dirty little secret to be whispered into the king’s own ears. They came to the turn into the clearing. Why didn’t she feel elated her secret would be kept? Guilt nagged at her for betraying the king and extorting money from the marquis. Pushing the feeling away, she advanced through the thicket into the clearing telling herself she was only doing this for the children. There was no other way. There were no other options.
    Sarah was snapped out of her gloomy thoughts by a child’s shriek. She jumped from her horse while it was still moving and ran to the cottage. Pushing open the door she stopped on the threshold and surveyed the scene. Byron, clad in only a long sheet, held Dickie by the shirt front. The child squirmed and cried out in terror.
    Grabbing the broom which was closest to the door she advanced on them. “Release him this instant or you will rue the day!” she avowed, raising her makeshift weapon above her head.
    Byron’s gaze swept to hers, his eyes narrowing when he spied the object in her hand. “What the hell,” he bellowed in surprise as she swung. The broom connected with his injured shoulder causing him to let go of the boy. With an amazing burst of speed he snatched the weapon from her hand, tossing it to the floor behind him and advanced on her. His eyes flashed with rage. Sarah panicked and backed toward the door. Whatever made her think she could handle such a powerful man on her own? If she made a break for it and ran to her horse she would leave poor Dickie on his own. She slid past the door and edged along the wall, watching the advancing red-faced lord carefully. Her eyes settled on the gun tucked against the wall beside the hearth. Looking back at Byron she held his gaze, inching her way toward the gun, trying to block out the child’s hysterical sobbing. Byron lurched toward her and she darted to reach the gun. Her fingers closed around the stock as he grasped her arm. She spun around so the muzzle rested against his bare chest.
    Byron stared at her for a moment, the corners of his lips twitching. “Check and mate, huh?” His eyes pinned hers and she fought to keep from looking away. “Do you think you can fire the gun before I can take it from you?”
    Sarah raised her chin with false conviction, glaring and fighting to keep her voice from betraying her fear. “I know I can.”
    If he called her bluff he would find out she had no idea if the gun was even loaded, let alone be competent enough to actually shoot. Her rapid breathing was the only sound in the room as they stood face to face, frozen in contemplation. He was first to break the silence. “You could not shoot