Chapter 15

'I knew it,' Eleanor hissed at Nathan. 'You brought me here to kill me.' Although the better part of her knew that nothing was going to happen to her, a small part trembled at the sight of so many guns turned on her.

'Stand down, she is my wife,' Nathan bellowed from behind her and all the men who stood around them, lowered their weapons. Eleanor heaved a sigh of relief. She was indeed stupid to think Nathan would harm her.

Nathan walked forward and lay a hand on the small of her back. His touch set to light thousands of sparks and she couldn't help the small shiver that visibly shook her.

'Are you alright?' Nathan asked, a frown on his face as he looked down at her.

Eleanor pasted a bright smile onto her face. 'Of course!' she said, a little too enthusiastically. 'It was just the slightest bit chilly.'

'Oh, alright then,' Nathan said and gestured at the men who watched them. 'Go ahead. Back to your work, men.' The men dispersed then, some disappearing upstairs and others placing the guns on tables as they went back to doing whatever it is they were.

The shop was small and dimly lit but Eleanor saw well that the walls of the shops and several cases that lined them were laden with different types of guns. Rifles, revolvers and various other types unbeknownst to Eleanor gleamed down at her and she felt herself shrink into herself.

'This is not a place for a lady,' Eleanor mused as her eyes travelled over the guns. But she was not surprised. After all that she had seen in the past few weeks, her being in a gun shop was far more proper than anything else she had done.

Nathan chuckled beside her. 'But you never were a normal lady, were you?'

'I guess not,' she replied with a smile, finding herself at ease when she said those words.

Nathan led her over to a counter, behind which stood a man. He, like the others, had a piece of cloth over his mouth but was dressed in an English commoner's day clothes. When they reached the counter, he removed the cloth to reveal to Eleanor a young English man in his twenties.

Eleanor grabbed Nathan's arm to get his attention. 'Where are we exactly, Nathan?'

Nathan's lips broadened into a bright grin. 'This is a gun shop, Eleanor. A secret, ill-reputed one. It caters to the needs of the English, hence the English staff.'

Ill-reputed. Illegal.

Eleanor looked back at the man who smiled brightly at Nathan and her. 'What would you like today, Your Grace?' he asked in Nathan's direction. He knew Nathan's title which meant Nathan frequented here.

'I'd like a gun for my wife, Henry,' Nathan said.

Eleanor froze in equal parts shock and terror.

Did he say he wanted a gun for me?

The man's, Henry's, smile fell, as did Eleanor's jaw, at Nathan's admonition.

'Nathan,' Eleanor began, placing a hand on his arm. 'This is not the time to jest. Not in a shop with guns at your disposal wherever you turn.'

Nathan ignored her and continued talking to Henry. 'Show me your revolvers.'

Henry hesitated for a second before he bent down and retrieved a case full of revolvers of different sizes.

Nathan turned to Eleanor and smiled. 'Try them out.'

Eleanor gawked at her husband. He must have been crazy to hand her a gun when she didn't even know how to hold, let alone use, one!

She drew him to one side, careful Henry couldn't overhear them. 'Nathan, you must be ludicrous if you think I know how to use a revolver!'

'I am quite aware you don't, Eleanor,' he replied. 'But I will buy you one and teach you how to use it.'

'But what use do I have for a gun?' she hissed.

'Eleanor,' he said, cupping one of her cheeks. 'The adventure we are about to embark on is going to extremely dangerous. Even for you. Learning to arm yourself is only a small way to defend yourself.'

Eleanor stared up at Nathan's handsome face. His blue eyes seemed to suck her in and she was completely mesmerised by the way the light played on his irises. Then, finally realising she was simply staring up at him, she broke the trance she was in and moved away.

Steps faltering, she walked back to the counter and eyed the revolvers.

Should I do it?

She hesitated only for a second before making up her mind and turning to Nathan. 'How do I know which one is for me?'

Nathan, grinning from ear to ear at her statement, stood by her side and handed her a random revolver from the pile. 'You hold it and see. Whichever one is most comfortable in your hold will be the one for you.'

Eleanor felt the revolver in her hands. It was heavy and her hand barely closed around the handle. Frowning, she placed the gun back on the counter and picked up another. This one was lighter, more suitable to be held in her small hands, but she felt it wasn't the one for her.

She picked up a third one. It was a long, thin, black one and the handle was covered in brown leather. Eleanor felt Nathan's eyes bore into her side as she raised it and gripped the hand tightly.

This was the one.

It was heavy, as all revolvers were, but still light enough for her to carry comfortably. The leather was smooth and made it easier for her to grip it. It was perfect for her.

'This is it,' she said, placing the gun on the counter and looking at Nathan. 'This is the one.'

Nathan grinned and nodded at Henry. 'We'll take this one.'

Henry bowed and put the gun into a case before handing it to Nathan. Nathan handed him a bag of money and walked out of the shop, Eleanor following.

They emerged out onto the cobbled streets and walked in amiable silence to the market. As soon as the buzz and noise of the bazaar began to fill their ears, Nathan turned to Eleanor and said, 'Today was a fine day to purchase a gun, was it not?'

Eleanor glared up at him. 'If I accidentally kill someone, know that the blood will be on your hands and your hands only for being the one to hand me a gun.'

Nathan laughed as they wove their way through the market. 'Do not fret, Eleanor. I will not let you actually use it until I think you are up for it.'

They made their way into their awaiting carriage and Nathan tapped the roof with his cane to signal the driver to be off.

As the carriage started to tumble through the cobbled path, Nathan spoke again. "Trust me, Eleanor. I will be the one teaching you. I know you'll master the art of gun-wielding in no time.'

Eleanor laughed. 'You sound awfully sure. I myself don't think I will be able to.'

They spent the rest of the journey home conversing pleasantly and ceased their conversation only when they stopped to part for their respective rooms.

'Well then,' Nathan said at the door to his room. 'I will see you for dinner, Eleanor.'

Eleanor inclined her head and made her way into the room and closed the door behind her.

She had told her maid to draw up a bath for her and to not bother helping her tonight. She undressed herself and sank into the bath, drowning her worries of handling a gun.

She couldn't believe it, though. She couldn't believe the fact that Nathan had bought her a gun! Her!

If he had been any other Englishman, he would have made sure she was far away in some country estate, visiting her only for producing heirs.

But then again, Nathan is no ordinary gentleman, she thought.

Eleanor smiled and sank further into the lavender-scented bath.

And I am no ordinary lady.