Silence No More

22. A-Hunting We Will Go

He opened his mouth to respond—when suddenly, he lunged forward, spreading his arms out in front of me.

"Down!" he hissed.

At any other time, I might have demanded why. At any other time, I might have argued. But right now, there was something in Karim's voice...

Instinctively, I threw myself to the ground.

Crack!

Just a little bit to my left, the branch of a bush exploded, and what was left of it tumbled to the ground.

"Oops," the smug voice of the vicomte reached my ears. Turning my head, I saw him some distance away, smirking at us. "Je suis désolé, Messieurs. I beg your pardon. My young friend here still lacks experience with firearms, and his hand must have slipped, non?"

"Yes." Karim nodded. "That's what must have happened."

"I'm so glad you agr—"

"And I," Karim ruthlessly cut him off as he brought his rifle up in one smooth motion to aim directly at the Frenchman's smug face, "am also quite inexperienced with firearms. So let's hope no more accidents happen, lest my finger twitch at the wrong moment, yes?"

From down on the ground, I stared up at Karim's implacable face, abruptly reminded of the fact that he wasn't just a loveable, oversized teddy bear, but a man who had survived roughly half a decade at my husband's side. Not an easy feat, I can assure you.

For a long moment, Karim and DeMordaunt had a staring contest—then the Frenchman averted his gaze ever so slightly.

"Oui." He gave an abrupt nod. "We wouldn't want that."

Then he whirled around and strode off, not bothering to spare us another glance.

"Come, boy!" he barked at his servant. A moment later, they both had vanished into the undergrowth.

I smirked up at the massive Mohammedan.

"Karim, have I ever told you that you're badass?"

"My posterior is perfectly fine, thank you very much!"

My smirk widened. "Collecting slang is a hobby of mine. Blame my honeymoon in America."

"I will, Sahiba. I most certainly will," he told me, his tone making me feel quite a bit of pity for whichever American would be unfortunate enough to cross his path in the future. Extending a hand to me, he helped me up. "Now, shall we continue?"

"Yes, let's." Over my shoulder, I cast a glance at the direction the vicomte had vanished in. "But let's be careful, agreed?"

"Agreed, Sahiba."

"Woof! Woof!"

"Oy!" My head whipped around. "Looks like Barb and Wire have found something! Maybe—"

Just then, with a screech and a flutter of wings, a feathery fiend exploded from the grass, surging up into the sky. It was already ten yards high up in the sky, then twenty, just about to make its escape, when—

Bang!

A small cloud of smoke rose, just as the bird's flight reached its peak, and it abruptly plummeted to the ground.

"Yay!" Smirking, I punched the air and, with the other hand, waved my smoking rifle in the air. "Who's the best shot in England?"

"Presumably the winner of the British rifleman competition."

"Spoilsport."

"Woof! Woof, woof!"

"Hey!" Reloading the rifle, I fixed my eyes on the dog in the distance. "Let's get moving! Barb has found another one!"