Five minutes later I stormed into Barrington Hall at full steam. My Lord and husband was just sitting back an armchair with a cup of tea reading War and Peace when the comet of his wife crashed into the living room.

"They're holding fox hunts!"

He lowered War and Peace. Good thing, too! From now on, there would be war, but definitely no peace!

"Sorry, I didn't catch that. What did you say?"

"I said they are holding fox hunts here! Real fox hunts, where real foxes get killed by real dogs!"

The teacup slipped from his hand and crashed to the floor.

"W-what?"

"You heard me!" I glared at him. "And I know exactly who's behind it!"

Clearing his throat, he quickly sat up in his armchair and put War and Peace aside. "Now, you mustn't jump to conclusions, my love. I would never—"

"Woodward!" I growled, starting to march up and down in a tight circle. "That's who's behind this! "Sir Jasper Jedidiah Woodward!"

"Ah." My husband sank back into his armchair again. "Sir Jasper, of course. Quick thinking of you, my dear. What first aroused your suspicions?"

"Oh, come on!" I threw him a frustrated look. Men could really be so slow sometimes! "It's obvious, isn't it? With Silver Star, he showed what he's capable of! He showed what he's prepared to do to poor animals for his sick, twisted goals! It's not just anyone who is capable of doing stuff like that! You have to be a real, certified bastard commit such a barbarity!"

He shifted. "Um... really?"

I reached the end of the room, whirled, and marched back again.

"Of course! Oh, when I get my hands on that Sir Jasper, I will personally rip out his intestines, tie them into knots—"

"Maybe we shouldn't be too hasty."

"—and decorate the town square with them! And then, I'll cut off his head and stick it on a pole outside the Fox and Hounds!"

Again I reached a wall and turned abruptly. His Lordship watched me anxiously. "Perhaps a more diplomatic approach might be—"

"That is what you people over here do with lawbreakers, right?" I demanded. "Cut off their heads and parade them through the country?"

He cleared his throat. "Um. During the Middle Ages. And even back then it was reserved for the crime of high treason."

"Does cruelty to animals count as high treason?"

"I don't believe so, no. I think it is about cruelty to reigning monarchs."

"Damn!"

I whirled once more. In three steps, I was back at the other wall and had slammed my fist against it. "Damn, damn, damn!" With each curse, my fist slammed into the wall again. "There's no justice in the world!"

Slowly, my husband rose and stepped towards me. "How do you know about this, anyway? I haven't heard anything about an illegal fox hunt."

"Mrs. Jacobs!"

"The landlady of the inn where you used to stay?"

"Yes. She overheard someone talking about it in her common room. She wouldn't tell me who it was though." I gritted my teeth. "Can't say that I blame her. It's Sir Jasper behind this, after all. I suppose he has too much influence in these parts for her to want to cross him."

"True."

"But someone will have to cross him!" I rounded on him. "Someone has to do something!"

His face was serious, his silver-blue eyes met mine, seeming to draw the rage right out of me. Wordlessly, he stepped forward and enfolded me in his arms, pulling me against his warm, solid chest.

"I'll ask around," he whispered into my ear. "See what I can find out. Sir Jasper isn't the only one with influence in this place."

I flung my arms around his waist and pulled him against me even more tightly. There was a burning fire in in my chest, and only he could soothe the rage of the flames. When he finally let go, I felt a lot more like a human again.

"Thank you." I squeezed his hand one last time. "It means a lot to me that you're there for me."

His answering smile was devastatingly beautiful. "Any time. Just relax and leave this to me. I'll take care of everything."

Nodding, I gave him a last hug and marched out of the room. Outside in the hallway, the air was noticeably cooler. Fall was approaching, and the warm days were over. So, on the way outside, I grabbed a warm jacket from the coat hanger. And from the rack beside the coat hanger, I grabbed a rifle.

I was glad that my man was going to look into this matter. But that didn't mean I was going to sit idly!

❤☠❤☠❤☠❤☠❤

"Damn rotten stinking British weather!" With another curse, I tipped the water out of my left ear and tried to huddle more closely against the tree under whose branches I had been hiding for the last few hours.

It had been three days now. Three days of waiting, teeth-grinding and being rained on. By now I was starting to wonder whether the rumors had ever been true in the first place. During my three days watch, I hadn't seen hide nor hair of Sir Jasper and his cronies. But then, it had been raining cats and dogs the last few days. Not the best conditions for someone who was after foxes.

"Come on!" I murmured. "Come on! Come out of hiding, you bastard!"

I refused to give up and believe all my waiting and my evening target practice had been in vain. This time, Sir Jasper would not get away with his ruthless cruelty. I might have let the other time slide, but this? No! No, no, and one more no! Shifting, I brought my rifle into a more comfortable position against my shoulder, and continued to wait and be rained on.

It took a long time for these sturdy British clouds to empty their entire load on the poor, drenched countryside. When they were finally done and moved on to molest Scotland, I shook the raindrops from my hoodie and stretched my back. Beyond the trees, I could see a rainbow in the distance. It wasn't a particularly interesting sight, but considering it was the only thing around me that wasn't green or brown, I watched it.

"Meow!"

Looking down, I saw Lucky sitting next to a tree stump, shaking herself.

"What are you doing here."

"Meow."

"Well, thanks, but I don't need moral support."

"Meow?"

"No, I don't need a babysitter either!"

"Meow!"

"Well, it's your own fault if you're wet. You shouldn't have come out here. It could get dangerous."

She threw me the supreme look of an animal who knew that her ancestors had killed whole flocks of gazelles on the plains of Africa.

"All right." Sighing, I held up a corner of my hoodie. "Come here."

A black streak shot towards me and disappeared under my hoodie. A moment later I felt the warmth of a small, furry body pressing against my side.

"Meow?"

"No, I'm not going to give up! I know they're coming! I just know it! Any moment now!"

❤☠❤☠❤☠❤☠❤

Three more days passed. My dear husband started to ask me where I disappeared to all day long. I told him I spent a lot of time in the woods recently. Somehow, I forgot to mention the rifle I always took with me.

I didn't understand what was going on! The weather was perfectly sunny again—perfect conditions for cruel and inhumane bloodsport! And still, there was no sign of Sir Jasper in the woods. Had he gotten wind of my suspicions? But how? I hadn't told a single soul except my husband.

Had I been wrong? Was Sir Jasper not out hunting harmless, innocent foxes? But then, what—

Thud-ud, thud-ud.

What was that?

Jerking upright, I brushed a few branches aside and peered through the foliage. There! A flash of red! And it wasn't the red of a rainbow. There was only one thing in Britain that was that color of red: a traditional riding coat. The garment all self-respecting English noblemen wore for the hunt. Bingo!

"I've got you!" A grin spread over my face. "Come on, Sir Jasper! Come on!"

Out of the distance, I heard the notes from a horn.

"Tally-ho!" a shout echoed through the trees. "Tally-ho!"

Again, the horn sounded, and the barks of dogs joined the thudding of hoofs. Finally! They were here!

With the stealth of a panther, I moved through the underbrush, Lucky beside me. The rifle was rock-steady in my hands. I had paid attention during my lessons, and I had a good eye. My natural killer instinct probably wouldn't hurt either. I'd get these bastards! Nobody was going to harm cute little foxes on my watch!

The sounds of the hunt were coming closer. Damn! They were coming directly in my direction! I couldn't have that. Grabbing Lucky by the scruff of the neck, I stuffed her into my backpack. Choosing not to pay any attention to the furious hissing coming from behind me, I ran through the underbrush, and climbed onto a heap of old, mossy rocks that looked like scrambled Stonehenge.

Another horn, much louder now. My heart pounded faster. So close already! The sound I had heard was coming just from behind that clump of trees. Whoever had blown the horn had to be considerably ahead of the main hunting party.

"The best hunter, eh?" I growled. "Eager to get the poor little fox, are we? Well, we'll see about that!"

A figure emerged from the trees: a tall rider atop a black horse, clad in red. I smiled. Good for him—the blood wouldn't show. His head was turned, facing away from me, presumably looking after the poor little fox. But not for long!

I released the safety catch and, slowly and carefully, took aim. Breathe in... breathe out... keep your hand steady, and—

Bam!

The man's head jerked forward, and he keeled over. Yippee! Actually, I had been aiming for the bastard's behind. Today was my lucky day!

"Meow!" commented my backpack.

"No, I don't need to work on my aim. It was perfect, thank you very much!"

"Meow!"

"Oh, quit being such a nag! Let's go and see what piece of dirt we've just scraped from the face of the earth, shall we?"

Hopping down from the rock on which I had perched, I skipped over to the body. I was feeling slightly giddy. You can't blame a girl for being excited, can you? After all, this was my very first planned assassination! With all the other murders, I had simply acted on the spur of the moment. But this time, I had set down and patiently waited for my prey, and everything had gone without a hitch! If there were something like an academy of killers, I felt I might just have graduated.

The body was lying behind its former mount. The horse, rather unconcerned by the fate of its master, stood there, nibbling on the bits of the surrounding grass that weren't spattered with blood. Stepping around it, I stopped beside the corpse of the villainous fox hunter with the hole in the head, knelt down and grabbed him by the shoulders.

"Now," I murmured. "Let's see who it is we have here? Sir Jasper? Oh, please let it be Sir Jasper!"

With a shove, I rolled the body over. And there he was, staring up at me.

It wasn't Sir Jasper.

Instead, looking up at me with a slightly puzzled expression on his face, as if he couldn't figure out how the ginormous hole had gotten in his head, there lay Lord Christopher Conrad Alexander Edward Malcolm Farleigh, 7th Baron Farleigh.