Pistols at Dawn Read Online Free Page A

It gave entrance to a sunny little parlor, bright with scrubbed pine and faded chintz florals. A large desk, its surface nearly obscured by books and papers, dominated the space near the windows. Atop the stack, Marcus caught sight of several of the latest new manuals on agriculture.
    Restraining the urge to have a closer look, he forced his gaze to move on. At the far end of the room, a door was open to the sunlight. It revealed a large garden, whose original shape had long since grown into a delightful twist of nooks and crannies, now filled with flowers and herbs.
    Marcus finished his cursory survey. Satisfied that no one was around, he was ready to retrace his steps when a young lady suddenly appeared from outdoors, cradling a basket of cut greens. Head bent, she was halfway across the room before she noticed the two gentlemen.
    Her gasp was punctuated by the crack of woven willow hitting the floor.
    "Forgive us if we have startled you," said the earl. "I assure you, there is no reason to be alarmed."
    There could be little doubt as to her identity. As the innkeeper had described, Meredith Kirtland was a very pretty girl, with guinea-gold hair, azure eyes and rosebud lips that had likely inspired more than one young man to try his hand at poetry.
    At the moment, however, Marcus saw that those lovely features were shaded in fear. With good reason—her cheek had been bruised by a hard blow, and several deep scratches cut across her neck.
    "Is your father at home?" he added quietly. "I wish to speak with—"
    A rustling of skirts in the hallway caused Marcus to break off his question.
    "Merry, have you fetched the chamomile and—"
    The voice was all too familiar. As were the clenched fists and flashing green eyes.
    "Get out!" His erstwhile assailant shoved past him and took up a stance to shield her sister. "At once!"
    The halo of unruly blonde curls—a deeper, redder shade than that of her sibling—put the earl in mind of an ancient Valkyrie. All that was missing was a sword.
    Her tongue, however, was just as cutting. "How dare you despicable men force your way into our home!"
    The earl's jaw tightened. Her verbal attack was threatening to turn an awkward confrontation into a full-scale battle. Reminding himself that she had good reason to be upset, he answered with what he thought was a show of great patience. "I did knock. But as no one appeared, and the door was half open, I took it upon myself to enter. I think you might agree that the circumstances merit a certain urgency."
    The appeal to reason only sparked a scowl.
    "I had hoped to find your father present..." He let his words trail off in question.
    This time the young lady obliged him with an answer. "My father has been dead for two years, sir."
    Marcus cleared his throat. "A brother, perhaps?"
    "If you are casting about for the head of the family, you have found her," she snapped. "My mother has been in ill health for some time, and this morning she was stricken with another bout of chest pains. That is why both the housekeeper and I were upstairs and did not hear a knock." Exhaling a ragged breath, she added softly, "Any knowledge of what has happened would likely kill her outright."
    After a tiny pause, her voice once again hardened to a sharp edge. "What is it you want? Why are you here? I cannot imagine why you would think that anyone in this family would care to set eyes on either of you scoundrels."
    It was not as if he expected a cordial greeting. But neither had he anticipated such a scathing assault on his character. The vengeful Valkyrie was not even allowing him the chance to explain himself. Angry with his nephew for putting him in such a damnably awkward position—and with the lady for being so rigidly righteous, Marcus felt his own temper growing dangerously frayed.
    Somehow he managed to keep his voice even. "I made a promise to look into the matter, and as I told you, my word—however worthless you consider it—is binding. It appears you were