Anne Perry - The Angel Court Affair

There was a man guarding the door. He raised a gun toward Pitt.

Pitt hit him as hard as he could, all his weight behind the blow. The shock of it went right up his arm and the man dropped like a stone and did not move. If Pitt had injured his arm he barely felt it. He stepped over the man and went to Sofia.

She stirred, opened her eyes and flinched as if she expected to be struck.

“It’s all right,” he said softly. “I won’t hurt you.”

She stared at him in the faint moonlight.

“Pitt,” he told her. “Thomas Pitt. Can you sit up?” He put his arm out and it was only when she took it to pull herself up that he felt the pain. Not that it mattered in the slightest. He closed his hand over hers and took her weight.

“Can you stand?” he asked. “Lean against me. We’ll get you out of here, and to a doctor.” He lifted her as gently as he could.

She was standing, swaying a little, when he heard a noise at the door and snatched his gun out, knocking her away to leave his arm free to fire.

But it was Nazario who stood in the doorway, the moonlight showing tears of relief running down his face.

“Thank you,” he said huskily. “Dear God! Thank you.” He came forward and took Sofia in his arms.

She clung to him for a moment, and then straightened herself with difficulty and obvious pain. She turned to Pitt. Her clothes were torn, her hair matted, her face was filthy, dark with bruises and swollen out of shape, but she stared at Pitt with a slow smile.

“I knew you would come for me, Mr. Pitt, but I am profoundly grateful that you were not much longer. I don’t think I could have lasted. What are you going to do with Mr. Teague?”

“He’s dead,” Pitt replied. “I gave him my word that he would be buried with honor, as long as the money is where he told me.”

She took a long, slow breath and her face was beautiful with gratitude. “Thank you, Commander Pitt. You do know what it is you believe, and it is good…very good.”