My Fair Guardian by Rogers Suzanne G

Author:Rogers, Suzanne G. [Rogers, Suzanne G.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Idunn Court Publishing
Published: 2019-04-29T16:00:00+00:00

As Angela reached the end of the tunnel, she ran headlong into a mass of vines growing over the entrance. She bit back a scream at the unexpected impediment and began clawing them aside. The sound of waves reached her ears and the tangy smell of saltwater tickled her nostrils. Before she was completely clear of the vines, she gasped at the report of gunfire. A few yards off, she heard Mr. Wylde grunt in pain, and her heart jumped into her throat.

“Garrison, are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Get out of this tunnel.”

“The entrance is covered by vegetation.”

In the next moment, he was by her side with the knife he always kept on his belt. He reached up and sawed at the vines with vigor.

Angela felt tears welling up in her eyes. “Are you hurt?”

His response was terse. “No.”

“I’m so glad.” She drew a relieved breath. “When I heard another gunshot, I was worried you’d been hit.”

Once enough vines fell away to create a slender opening, Mr. Wylde put his hand on the small of her back and urged her forward.

“Out with you, my love.” He fell to one knee.

“You are hurt!”

Angela reached toward him, but he scowled. “Out! I’ll be along once I’ve dealt with the threat.” He stood. “Go now…please. I must know you’re safe.”

As tears rolled down her face, she slipped through the opening in the vines. When her feet sank into soft sand, she knew she was free. She glanced around in the moonlit darkness and darted toward a shadowy alcove off to one side. After she’d pressed herself against the sheltering rock, she sent up a desperate prayer for God to keep Garrison Wylde alive.

Minerva entered the bedroom and cast a curious glance in Bethany’s direction. “Are you still working, Miss Christensen? I would have thought you might be taking a bath.”

“What?” Bethany frowned for a moment…until she remembered the musical soiree on her schedule. “Oh, heavens, I’d forgotten about Lord and Lady Jensen’s party. Start the bath for me, Minerva.”

As the maid hastened into the adjoining bathroom, Bethany hurriedly wiped her pen and capped the inkwell. Although she would dearly love to know what happened to poor Mr. Wylde, his survival would have to wait.

∞∞∞

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