Ransomed Jewels Read Free

“No! Leave Claire out of this, Sam. To her, the trip to Paris was nothing more than a gay holiday to see a few sights and come home with a new gown or two.”
    “And what is her connection to Roseneau?”
    Hunt looked shocked. “She has no connection to Roseneau. In fact, I’m not sure she even likes the man. She only tolerates him because I told her an association to him is important to me.”
    Sam watched the struggle on his friend’s face, the wretched turmoil that darkened his eyes. Slowly, the corners of Hunt’s mouth lifted to form a bittersweet smile. His face held a look of defeat. “Just leave Claire out of this. She isn’t involved in anything, Sam.”
    Sam lifted his gaze and nodded. “How soon can you get the papers to me?”
    “Tomorrow night. I’ll leave my downstairs study window open. Don’t come before midnight. Claire doesn’t always retire early.”
    Sam nodded, then buttoned his jacket. “I want the traitor caught before he causes the death of one more innocent young man.”
    “Until tomorrow night, then,” Hunt said, his gaze locking with Sam’s long enough to share a silent vow. Then Hunt turned his back on Sam and walked to the window. Hunt’s usual tall and dignified posture was marred by a slight a bend to his shoulders. As if the weight of the lives for which he was responsible was more than he wanted to bear.
    Hunt sucked in a deep breath and straightened his shoulders.
    “I left a command dinner engagement with my father to meet you,” Hunt said, slipping his hands into his gloves.
    “How is His Grace?” Sam asked.
    “Bridgemont’s health is failing. He made it to the Biltmore ball last night, but in a month he plans to retire to the country. I doubt he’ll see another Season.”
    “I’m sorry, Hunt.”
    “So am I.”
    Hunt hesitated a fraction, as if he intended to add something pertinent, then appeared to change his mind. “I ran into your uncle last night at the Biltmore ball. He said he hasn’t seen you in ages and is most anxious to talk to you.”
    Sam’s smile was hollow. “The Marquess of Rainforth must be on the outs with his son again. Every time he and Ross argue, he seeks me out. My cousin can be quite exasperating. I’ll have to drop by when this is over.”
    “Yes, do that.”
    Hunt fit the sweat-stained hat back on his head. “I’ll be waiting for you tomorrow night after midnight.”
    Sam nodded.
    “Watch your back, Sam.”
    “You, too.”
    The Marquess of Huntingdon walked across the room and waited until Sam extinguished the lantern before he opened the door. “You go first. I’ll wait to make sure no one follows you.”
    Sam nodded and checked the dark hallway before going to the stairs. No one was there. He made his way down the worn steps and through the kitchen. He listened, opened the door, then looked around before he stepped out into the narrow alley. He made his way to the side of the Armor’s Inn to where his horse was tethered, keeping to the shadows as much as he could. The bay pawed the ground in welcoming. Or in warning. The hairs on the back of his neck stood, and, before Sam could reach for the pistol in his pocket, Hunt’s voice bellowed into the darkness.
    Sam turned, but not in time. A searing pain stung his shoulder, knocking him off balance. He pulled out his gun, but his fingers lacked the strength to hold it steady.
    Sam heard the muffled pop of gunfire as another bullet slammed into the muscled flesh of his arm. He spun around to face his attackers.
    “Sam! Get down!”
    Hunt’s voice came from the side of the inn as a shot rang out, then another. Two of the gunmen fell to the ground, but a third stepped out, his gun pointed at Sam’s chest.
    “No!” Hunt yelled.
    Sam spun to the side, praying he could step out of the gunman’s line of fire, but realized it was unlikely. Before he could move, Hunt pummeled into him, using his own body to shield Sam. The gunman fired two more shots.
    “Hunt! Hunt!” Sam pushed