Sweet Rogue of Mine (The Survivors #9) - Shana Galen Page 0,99
he’s shown incredible progress already.”
“I’ll consider it,” the earl said, and Nash wanted to punch him. “In the meantime, I won’t feel safe under this roof if he has that pistol.”
“All the rifles and other pistols have been removed from the house,” Rowden said. “And Clopdon has disarmed that one. You’re quite safe.”
“And yet it was armed earlier—primed and ready,” the earl said.
Nash swallowed. “I admit I found Clopdon’s hiding place for the ball and powder. I feel safer when the pistol is loaded.”
“And I feel threatened. If I’m to give you more time, if I’m to stay through the festival and see if things really have improved, then I’ll need that pistol,” the earl said.
Nash’s fingers closed on the pistol’s stock, and he shook his head. “No.”
“Then I suppose my decision is made,” the earl said. “I’ll take my staff and decamp to a tavern—”
“My lord,” Rowden said. “Give us a moment alone. Clopdon!”
The door opened and Clopdon said, “Yes, sir?”
“Would you take the earl into the dining room?”
“Yes, sir.” For once the valet didn’t complain that he was being asked to do the work of a butler. “This way, my lord.”
“I want the pistol,” the earl said.
The door closed and Nash said, “No.”
“Listen to me, Nash.”
“No.”
Rowden crossed the room and put a hand on Nash’s shoulder. “It’s wood and metal. Nothing else. You don’t need it.”
He did need it. It was his only defense against the memories and the fear. The pistol and Pru, but Pru wasn’t here.
“Nash, do you remember that church in Portugal?”
Nash’s swirling thoughts slowed, and he shook his head.
“Yes, you do. Three or four of us were hidden in the crypt. We were packed together so tightly I couldn’t scratch my nose without scratching yours as well. You were there and Aidan. He was the one who got us into the crypt. And Colin—he was dressed as a priest.”
Nash couldn’t help but smile. It was coming back to him now. The four of them had been sent to ascertain if any weapons were being stored at a local church in some city in Portugal whose name he didn’t remember any longer. Colin had dressed as a priest and gained admittance. The other three hid until after dark, when Aidan broke into the church. Once inside, they met up with Colin and crept into the crypt. Rowden was there to provide muscle should they need it. Nash had been there to evaluate any weapons they found.
Colin held a lamp while Aidan used his pickpocket skills to open everything from toolboxes to sarcophagi. Nash saw more bones than he liked and no weapons.
“I remember. There weren’t any weapons, and we realized Rafe had been given false information, the French probably hoping he’d pass it along and they could ambush us.”
“Which they did,” Rowden said.
Nash remembered the feeling of cold dread that formed like a pit of ice in his belly when he’d heard the voices of the French soldiers they’d been fighting all over Portugal. He remembered the panic as the four of them scrambled to find hiding places as the booted feet seemed to come inexorably closer. Nash and Rowden had been closest to the door, and Nash regretted the position almost immediately. He and Rowden were clustered so tightly together he couldn’t easily load his pistol. When he’d been trying to do so, Rowden had knocked his arm and he’d dropped his powder bag.
And then it had been too late because the soldiers were searching the crypt and Nash was weaponless and helpless. It was the first time he’d ever really been afraid. He thought he’d known fear before then, but it was nothing compared to the feeling he’d had then. He realized this must be what the other men felt all the time. They had to run at the enemy with nothing but a sidearm and their brute strength, while he stood back in the shadows and provided cover.
Nash had closed his eyes and tried to keep down the bile rising in his throat. And then there seemed to be some sort of unspoken signal because Rowden struck one soldier passing by at the same time Colin or Aidan struck another on the other side of the crypt. The soldiers couldn’t shoot. They didn’t know where the attack came from and whether they’d hit one of their own or the enemy. There had been six soldiers, and before Nash knew what happened, there were only three.