The Black Sheep and the Rotten Apple (gay historical romance) by K.A. Merikan

Author:K.A. Merikan [Merikan, K.A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Acerbi & Villani ltd.
Published: 2017-02-07T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Droplets of rain fell off the rim of Julian’s tricorn hat. It had been four days since the masquerade, and during that time, he managed to establish the route Hughes chose, as well as the time it should take the bastard to reach the spot he and Evan chose for their ambush.

He hadn’t gotten much peace last night after retiring to his room, with plans still very much alive in his mind. Hours passed while he listened to the clock ticking nearby, and for a moment, a creak outside his room gave him a flicker of hope that maybe Evan was as restless as he was. But no one had come through the door or knocked, leaving Julian to his own thoughts.

Deep in the night, his mind had become even more troubled, forcing him out of bed and to the desk where he filled pages with lines of text, some of it crossed out, some underlined and moved about on the paper. Those pages he could not read to Evan. They were too raw, too personal in the way they unraveled that hidden corner of Julian’s soul that he himself was only beginning to discover.

He glanced at Evan’s towering presence on the other side of the road. On Noir’s back, he looked like a giant in the solid black outfit, even more so with the rain making the leather of his coat shine in the sparse light of the grayest day in recent months.

To make Snow more difficult to recognize, they’d colored her with coal to make it appear as if she had spots, but if the carriage didn’t arrive soon, their efforts would go to waste in this rain.

When Julian offered to be a part of the stunt, he didn’t think all that much of it, but as reality dawned on him with every drop of rain hitting his oversized coat, he was coming to terms with the fact that he was about to commit a crime punishable by law with hanging.

Nothing could go wrong. Or so he told himself.

They chose the spot perfectly, at the incline of a hill to prevent the carriage from speeding up, especially with the ground so muddy from the rain. There were trees entangled with ivy on both sides of the road, and with the clouds layered thick as clotted cream on a scone, not much light was coming through, making the day seem as if it were already dusk.

Julian squeezed the pistol underneath his coat. Evan had showed him how to use it, and assured him it would likely be just an accessory of intimidation, but Julian was still scared of the fiery power the weapon could spur.

He closed his eyes and listened to the creaking of wood and the constant tapping of the water against the leaves and his own shoulders. The scarf he used for obscuring his identity was now cold and wet, and it clung to his neck and face, but he didn’t dare lower it, to not tempt fate.

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