Read Online Shady Lady by Elizabeth Thornton - Free Book Online

glance. It was typical of other schoolrooms she had known, with desks and chairs bolted to a sloping floor. Her aunt was tied to the master’s chair, mumbling behind her gag. Her bonds didn’t look too formidable, not rope or leather but strips of rags. When she saw Jo, Mrs. Daventry’s eyes lit up.
    Two gentlemen turned at her entrance. She had no trouble deciding which one was Mr. Harding. He was the elder of the two, and his pale plump face was marred by a scowl.
    His voice matched his expression. “I didn’t give you permission to enter. Who are you, and what do you want?”
    “I’m Mrs. Chesney,” she said, “and I’ve come to see what is keeping my aunt.” She feigned a gasp. “Auntie! What have they done to you?” Then to Phoebe, “Untie her at once.”
    When Phoebe hastened to obey, Harding moved to block her. “Oh, no, you don’t! This woman is demented! I’ve sent for the constable and—” His voice faded as Jo brought up the pistol and pointed it straight at his chest.
    Her hand shook, but that was all to the good. A nervous woman was a dangerous woman. “I really don’t want any trouble,” she said, and was surprised at how steady her voice was. “Let’s agree that there has been a colossal misunderstanding. I don’t want to shoot anyone. All I want is my aunt.”
    The younger man looked gratifyingly terrified. “Mr. Harding,” he said, “perhaps we should do as she says. I don’t—”
    Harding made a slashing movement with one hand, silencing his companion. His breathing was quick and harsh. “Have you lost your mind, woman? You must be crazy to come barging in here, threatening me with a gun. I’d advise you to put it away before I take it away from you.”
    She spoke in the deadliest voice she could muster. “Try it and see what happens.”
    Mrs. Daventry was on her feet and her gag was off. “I’m not leaving here without Eric,” she declared.
    Jo’s mind was racing, trying to come up with a ruse that would give them time to get away. She didn’t think she could manhandle Mr. Harding into a closet and, anyway, she didn’t want to get too close to him in case he took her gun away.
    “You there!” she said to Phoebe. “Show my aunt where the boy is. Now!”
    Mrs. Daventry looked as though she might remonstrate with Jo for addressing Phoebe, whom she regarded as a friend, in such strident tones, but something in her niece’s expression warned her to keep her tongue still. She left quietly with Phoebe.
    Harding stood there, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Jo was counting the seconds, trying to calculate how much time her aunt would need to get to the chaise, regretting now that she hadn’t told them to go without her at the first sign of trouble.
    After a long, interminable silence, she gave a tiny shrug. “That wasn’t so bad, now, was it? I’d advise you not to come after me.”
    As she spoke, she backed away from them. The younger man looked vastly relieved to see her go. Mr. Harding, on the other hand, kept pace with her. Her arm was cramping from holding the heavy pistol, but she dared not lower it yet.
    In the hallway, she could hear the rumpus upstairs as Matron banged on the door. Harding’s gaze swiveled toward the noise and Jo seized her chance. She was through the front door before he could grab her.
    Almost at once, she heard a shout and someone yelling for her to stop. This only had the effect of making her run faster. She was almost at the chaise when a hand clamped around her arm and dragged her back. Acting out of sheer animal instinct, she lashed out with her clenched fist.
    Harding let out a howl of pain and covered his nose with his cupped hands. Blood streamed down his shirt- front. “You’ve broken my nose,” he yelled.
    “I’ll do worse than that if you try to stop me.” She was shaking so badly, she needed both hands to hold her pistol steady. “Put your hands in the air and back off,” she commanded. “You too,