“Now,” Simon said with deadly calm to the proprietor. The man saw the threat in his eyes and quickly hurried away to retrieve the key. Only then did Simon turn to see what he was to face.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Where are you, Simon?
Opening the door minutes later, Claire put her head outside and listened. She heard lots of noise, but she didn’t think any of it came from Simon. Holding the gun in one hand, she thought about taking the candle with her to light the way, but that would leave her with no hands free, so instead, she made her way to the stairs and slowly down until she could hear the noise coming from the rear of the building. It was loud and sounded as though glass was being smashed. Then she heard the sickening thud of a fist hitting flesh. Simon would be furious with her for coming down here. However if he was in trouble, she needed to help him, because the trouble he was in was her fault. Edging closer, Claire saw the door had a glass panel in it, so she looked through. Men were fighting–lots of men. Searching the group, she managed to find Simon, Merlin and Ben. It appeared they were being set upon by all the rest of the men in the room. While she watched, Simon took a blow to the face that rocked him back on his heels.
“Best you go up to your room, my lady.”
Claire spun to face the proprietor, who spoke behind her.
“Get in there!” she shrieked, making him wince. “Stop this at once–they are killing my husband and coachman!”
The proprietor chuckled. “Won’t be any death, my lady, just a good milling. And your man seems to have a way of handling himself you don’t often see in a nobleman.”
“Give me that key, you bloody coward!” Snatching what she hoped was her room key out of his hand, she opened the door and lifted the gun.
“Stop or I’ll shoot!”
No one took any notice of her as she yelled loudly while waving the gun about. Her eyes fell on a chair, so she stepped up onto it and then onto the table beside. She picked up the glass tumbler at her feet, then dropped it on ground as hard as she could. The men did not stop. A few turned to look at her, but then carried on fighting, so she lifted another glass and threw it as hard as she could at all the bottles lined up behind the bar. Several smashed and this time the loud noise drew plenty of attention. Slowly every man in the room stopped what they were doing and turned to look at her.
Raising the pistol, she then pointed it at the man who had punched Simon. “You will all leave this establishment at once,” Claire said. Bracing her legs, she locked her trembling knees and held the gun with both hands once more. “I asked you to do something, gentlemen,” she added when no one moved. “Now I insist you do it, or I will fire, and as I watched you plant your fist in my husband’s face, you will be the first to receive my bullet…between the legs,” Claire added slowly. She watched the man’s color recede as he looked at where she was aiming.
“Christ!”
This was from Simon, but she didn’t look his way. Instead, she held the man’s gaze. It was he that lowered his first.
“Everyone out now!”
Behind her, the proprietor had finally made his way inside and was starting to order people from his establishment.
“Give me the gun now, my lady.”
Claire looked down at Merlin, who appeared at her feet, holding out one hand. She placed the gun gently in his palm. She noticed his lip was split and his nose bloodied. This was her fault. These three men had been hurt protecting her. Guilt sat like a heavy weight on her shoulders.
“I-I’m sorry,” she whispered, looking from him to Ben, and then lastly, Simon, because she knew seeing his beautiful face bruised and bloodied would hurt her the most. “This is my f-fault.” She watched Simon walk towards her, his eyes never leaving her face. There was blood on his cheek, and one of his eyes was slowly darkening. “Dear god, Simon, I’m sorry,” she choked out.
He didn’t speak, just placed his hand on her waist and lifted her to the ground, pulling her into his chest briefly before taking her hand. She heard him speak to his men, and then he led her from the room. Simon pushed her back up the stairs and into their room.
“I…uh, I have the key, Simon.”
He took it from her silently and then locked the door. She moved to the window while he slowly pulled off his jacket, wincing as he did so.
“There is water. I will wash the…the blood from you, Simon.”
He removed his boots and shirt. Only then did he look at her. Rage had darkened his eyes to the color of a stormy night. “I told you to stay in here, Claire. Merlin told you there were unsavory men about the place, yet still you came downstairs. Do you know what could have happened?” His words were clipped and cold.