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“You are the bravest woman I’ve ever known, Faith Kingston,” he whispered above her head, and she felt his lips press reverently against her brow. He raised her chin and looked down at her face as she slowly wiped at her tears. He kissed each wet eye with equal reverence before asking, “Do you think you will be all right here alone if I leave you for a short while?” She dragged her palms over her cheeks. “Where are you going?” “To your father’s to retrieve your belongings.” She stiffened with alarm. “Don’t worry, I’ll leave him alive.”
The ludicrous scene caused Nick to chuckle softly. He slowly placed Faith’s items on a table beside him, and when he turned back to the men across the room he had two silver French pistols, one in each hand. He saw Kingston’s eyes go wide before they quickly settled on him once more. Nick said casually, “Muskets are notoriously inaccurate. Even soldiers have difficulties hitting their targets. Did you prime it correctly? Did you pack the load well enough? Will the bore pull to the left or to the right? Will it blow up in your face?”
She just hoped they hadn’t had a fight because there was no way her father would come out on top. Not that she wanted him to after what he’d done and said, but he was still her father, and her heart ached at his selfishness, so she put thoughts of him away and turned them towards herself.
“You’ve helped me as well,” she replied. “How so?” “I’ve not had someone to love me since my mother died.” He peered into her eyes, and upon seeing the emotion reflected in them pulled her into his arms. “And now you have. Plan on being loved until death do us part, my Faith.”