lifted up a lantern and peered back at her, his face looking oddly green in the light. “I don’t believe what you were doing constitutes a yell, Agatha. It sounded more like screaming to me, and of course we heard you. I’m certain people in England heard you, but you’ll need to wait a moment before explaining your dramatics. I’m right in the middle of telling Mr. Blackheart how I placed this dynamite so that no unforeseen problems will—”
“There are three women riding this way. Drusilla and I believe they’re doing so in order to hold us up.” She drew in a breath. “They’re armed, heavily we think.”
Zayne tilted his head and, to her annoyance, barely batted an eye. “Three women you say? How odd, unless . . . I vaguelyremember spending time last night with three women, but . . . no, they’d have no reason to track me down out here.”
“You probably let them see that stash of gold you keep attached to your belt since you were, well, drunk,” Agatha snapped. “I would hazard a guess they’re here to divest you of it, and—” A shot suddenly rang out, and Agatha forgot what she’d been about to say.
“Stay here,” Mr. Blackheart ordered before he disappeared, a pistol gripped in his hand.
“Stay here,” Zayne repeated, his nonchalant attitude of a moment before gone. Before she had a chance to protest, he snatched the pistol out of her hand and hobbled away as fast as his bad leg would allow.
She stood frozen in place for a second, completely furious. It wasn’t as if she were some wilting flower who couldn’t handle herself in dangerous situations, but that dangerous situation would be easier to handle if Zayne hadn’t just made off with her favorite gun. Bending over, she set down the lantern, yanked up the leg of her trouser and pulled her second-favorite gun from the strap attached to her ankle and straightened. Snatching up the lantern again, she headed in the direction Zayne and Mr. Blackheart had disappeared, stopping abruptly when another shot rang out.
It sounded so close that Agatha had the unwelcome suspicion the ladies might have gotten past Drusilla and were now in the mine. Knowing she might have to make use of the element of surprise, she turned the knob on the lantern, shutting off the flame before she set it on the ground. Edging slowly through the dark, she bit back a yelp when she hit her head on something hard. Rubbing it for a second, she started forward again, slowing to another stop when she heard a lady’s voice echo down the tunnel.
“Gentlemen, I encourage you to put down those guns or this woman will definitely not like what we do to her.”
Pulse racing, Agatha inched ahead, using her hand against the roughhewn tunnel to guide her until the light from the main entrance finally made it possible for her to see. She stopped in the shadows right as Mr. Blackheart began to speak.
“What do you want?”
“Now, now, watch your tone, sir. I don’t care for aggressive men, and I’ve been known to shoot men who’ve aggravated me in the past.”
“Who are you?” Zayne demanded.
“Why, Mr. Beckett, how cruel that you don’t remember me, especially after we shared such a lovely time last night. I’m Mary, and that is Jessie, and the other lady is Hannah.” Mary laughed, the sound making the hair on the back of Agatha’s neck stand up. “We’ve come to relieve you of that delightful bag of gold we noticed you had last night.”
“You are more than welcome to it.”
A second later, a thump sounded, and then the woman laughed again. “I must say, that was easier than I expected.”
“I always try to be accommodating,” Zayne returned. “And since I’ve cooperated and given you what you came for, I see no reason for you to linger.”
“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. Me and the girls don’t like to leave any loose ends, which is why I didn’t hesitate to give you our names. But speaking of loose ends, where’s Agatha
“There are three women riding this way. Drusilla and I believe they’re doing so in order to hold us up.” She drew in a breath. “They’re armed, heavily we think.”
Zayne tilted his head and, to her annoyance, barely batted an eye. “Three women you say? How odd, unless . . . I vaguelyremember spending time last night with three women, but . . . no, they’d have no reason to track me down out here.”
“You probably let them see that stash of gold you keep attached to your belt since you were, well, drunk,” Agatha snapped. “I would hazard a guess they’re here to divest you of it, and—” A shot suddenly rang out, and Agatha forgot what she’d been about to say.
“Stay here,” Mr. Blackheart ordered before he disappeared, a pistol gripped in his hand.
“Stay here,” Zayne repeated, his nonchalant attitude of a moment before gone. Before she had a chance to protest, he snatched the pistol out of her hand and hobbled away as fast as his bad leg would allow.
She stood frozen in place for a second, completely furious. It wasn’t as if she were some wilting flower who couldn’t handle herself in dangerous situations, but that dangerous situation would be easier to handle if Zayne hadn’t just made off with her favorite gun. Bending over, she set down the lantern, yanked up the leg of her trouser and pulled her second-favorite gun from the strap attached to her ankle and straightened. Snatching up the lantern again, she headed in the direction Zayne and Mr. Blackheart had disappeared, stopping abruptly when another shot rang out.
It sounded so close that Agatha had the unwelcome suspicion the ladies might have gotten past Drusilla and were now in the mine. Knowing she might have to make use of the element of surprise, she turned the knob on the lantern, shutting off the flame before she set it on the ground. Edging slowly through the dark, she bit back a yelp when she hit her head on something hard. Rubbing it for a second, she started forward again, slowing to another stop when she heard a lady’s voice echo down the tunnel.
“Gentlemen, I encourage you to put down those guns or this woman will definitely not like what we do to her.”
Pulse racing, Agatha inched ahead, using her hand against the roughhewn tunnel to guide her until the light from the main entrance finally made it possible for her to see. She stopped in the shadows right as Mr. Blackheart began to speak.
“What do you want?”
“Now, now, watch your tone, sir. I don’t care for aggressive men, and I’ve been known to shoot men who’ve aggravated me in the past.”
“Who are you?” Zayne demanded.
“Why, Mr. Beckett, how cruel that you don’t remember me, especially after we shared such a lovely time last night. I’m Mary, and that is Jessie, and the other lady is Hannah.” Mary laughed, the sound making the hair on the back of Agatha’s neck stand up. “We’ve come to relieve you of that delightful bag of gold we noticed you had last night.”
“You are more than welcome to it.”
A second later, a thump sounded, and then the woman laughed again. “I must say, that was easier than I expected.”
“I always try to be accommodating,” Zayne returned. “And since I’ve cooperated and given you what you came for, I see no reason for you to linger.”
“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. Me and the girls don’t like to leave any loose ends, which is why I didn’t hesitate to give you our names. But speaking of loose ends, where’s Agatha
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