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He was off his chair and sat down next to her, covering her hand with his.

“Please tell me all you remember and please don’t spare me anything again. Do you have any idea what earthly hell I lived through before I knew you were all right?”

She smiled. “Okay, in that case I will tell you something, but you have to promise me that you don’t think me daft. You see, every once in a while I have these feelings or visions before something happens. I sensed that shot coming at me, before it was fired. I am not flighty nor do I race through the countryside without paying heed to where I am going. I watch my flank and rear, ever since I was waylaid by that sheriff and his gang. It was an instinctive reaction, when I rolled off Sugar.”

He rose and rained kisses all over her face. “You are the smartest woman I have ever come across. I regard and treasure your opinion. Promise me that you won’t ride out alone until we have cleared up who is trying to hurt you.”

André was not fool enough to believe that Stormy was the sole target. Someone was out to get him, but why and who?

He slept poorly that night. Not wanting to disturb Stormy, he slipped out of bed, tugged on his trousers and tiptoed down to the study. He had enough bookkeeping to do to keep him busy until fatigue would take over.

As he pored over his ledger, he imagined he heard a scratching noise near the glass fronted door that led out to the gardens in back. He rose quietly to check it out. The quarter moon overhead lent little light. He continued to peer into the darkness a few moments longer, then shrugged and turned away.

Deep in thought, he started to walk back to his desk, when the door to the hallway opened. Snowden, gun in hand, paused in the doorway.

The short hairs on André’s neck rose. Pretending a calm he didn’t feel, he backed up against the edge of his desk.

Snowden didn’t bother to close the door, but walked into the room as if he owned it. “Sit down and let’s have a chat,” he said almost convivially, though his gun remained aimed at André’s heart. When he braced himself against the fireplace mantel with an affected air of nonchalance, André realized that the man was quite drunk.

Waving the gun through the air like a pointer, he drawled, “I have dreamed of this moment. It all started here. I might have never known you were here, if it hadn’t been for your dusty footprints leading from the fireplace to the bookcase. I knew you had found something important, when I spied the loose brick. You never give up, do you? But it will end here tonight. The magistrate won’t interfere. I intercepted the emissary, who was to reinstate you as the owner of Greenbriar. He will not bother anyone ever again.” He chuckled diabolically.

“I tried to scare you off by shooting your wife. She is a tricky little baggage. I think she spied me a moment before I squeezed off my shot. She is rather lovely and she will serve me well, when you are dead.” He pretended sympathy. “No need to upset yourself. You don’t expect a widow to live here alone. I really thought you would skedaddle back to France or STORMY HEIDE KATROS

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London, but I guess I was wrong. I should have known better. I have come to understand that you will never leave me alone. You are the only thing that stands between me and Greenbriar.”

André seethed. The man was mad. He had come to believe that Greenbriar truly belonged to him. He no longer cared who died in the wake of his greed. He thought himself untouchable. But in a separate thought process André tried hard to figure a way of getting to the pistol he kept in the top drawer of his desk. He was not going to allow this fanatic to kill him and heaven forbid get his bloody hands on Stormy.

“Now, do you have any preference where you might like to die? I would think it would be rather dramatic if they found you slumped over your desk, your pistol in your lifeless hand.

Oh, don’t think you can fool me. I know you have a gun stashed somewhere in that desk and I will plant it in your hand once you are dead. People might speculate why a man like you would commit suicide, but in the end they would accept it for lack of evidence.” He leered at André, the gun suddenly steady in his hand. “You know I am really good at getting rid of evidence.”

“You are not getting away with another murder, sheriff. Throw down your weapon or I’ll shoot it out of your hand.”

The order was issued without the slightest emotion, but it jerked Snowden out of his trance. He pivoted toward the open door, his gun pointing at this new threat, and a derisive sneer lifted his lip … seconds before his gun fell from his shattered hand.

Stormy walked in on bare feet, dressed only in her nightgown. Her face was as pale as snow. She shook visibly as she handed her gun to André. “I thought I was dreaming, when I saw this scenario play out before my eyes. But when you were gone, I had to find out whether it was a dream or one of those rare visions that assail me.

“I knew you kept a gun by the bed, so I took it and came down here.” Her legs buckled.

André caught her before she fell to the floor and settled her on the couch. In that instant Snowden grappled for his gun, but André was faster. He covered Stormy’s body with his and shot blindly at Snowden. He missed. But as Snowden ducked to elude the bullet, he lost his balance and toppled backwards.

There was a dull thud and the whole room went still. André and Stormy exchanged uncertain glances. He lifted his head just enough over the back of the couch to take a cautious peek at Snowden. The sheriff lay sprawled on the floor, his mouth hanging open as if he were about to utter something.

André, his gun firmly in hand, crossed over to him and bent to check the man’s pulse. He couldn’t find one. He rang for Mrs. Dunnen, who came running in her nightrail and wrapper, her eyes wide with alarm.

“Oh, thank heavens you are all right, your Grace. I heard the shots and could only wonder.”

They both looked down a Snowden, then André shrugged. “Not much we can do about that. Please have him removed and buried at the outer edge of the property. It was a clear case of self-defense.” He turned his back and scooped a shaking Stormy into his arms to take her back upstairs.

He held her until she fell into a fitful sleep. But slumber eluded him into the wee hours of the morning. He only left their room to make sure that Snowden had been removed and the study cleaned of any trace of violence.

Stormy woke to brilliant sunshine and for a moment she didn’t even think about the previous night. It all came back to her, when André appeared in the doorway carrying a tray with tea and chocolate and freshly baked, buttered scones.

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He leaned down and softly kissed her on the mouth. “Good morning, love. I thought I would bring you breakfast in bed, and while you eat, I will talk.”

Stormy sat up, bolstered by several pillows. She allowed him to feed her bits of scones and obediently drank some tea, while she waited expectantly for what he had to say.

“I have come to a decision, Stormy. Greenbriar does not seem to be meant for me. It might have been my mother’s childhood home, but I rarely spent time here, though I loved Aunt Victoria dearly. Since my aunt did not have children, and her husband passed on before her, the estate automatically reverted to me, or so we thought until Snowden weaseled his way into Aunt Victoria’s graces.

“Anyway, I have come to a decision. I will offer the estate to Thomas. Tommy will be entering the marriage market soon and he will need a home of his own. I really have no need of Greenbriar, since I have several holdings in France.”

He saw the hope flare and ebb in Stormy’s expressive eyes. Keeping his voice even, he reached for both of her hands and looked deeply into her eyes. “But there is more. I decided to ask Stuart to look after my estates in France and Tommy will see to Noir, while I am gone.” He paused for effect, and then he grinned down at her with that superior male smile. “When do you think you could get ready to sail to South Carolina?”

Stormy squealed in delight. She upended the tray in her haste to throw her arms around his neck to shower him with kisses. “I can be packed by tomorrow.”

The End