Jamie yelped. ‘Devil take it, Emma! What are you doing?’
‘Hush, mind your language, Jamie,’ scolded Emma. ‘I remembered seeing one of the village women treating a boy who’d been shot. She told me it helped the healing process. Of course, it wasn’t brandy; I think it was ouzo. But this might help until we get you to a doctor.’
The sound of horses’ hooves approaching signalled Phil’s return. There was a grimace on Phil’s face as he reined in his panting horse.
‘Sorry, Richard. I couldn’t catch him. The devil of it is that I nearly had him at one point. But with his head start and the light fading…’ Phil’s shoulders slumped.
Although he was disappointed that the would-be assassin had escaped, Richard was glad that Phil had returned in one piece. One victim was quite enough for one day.
‘Never mind that now.’ He grasped Phil’s hand. ‘Thanks for trying.’ Richard returned to the coach and spoke to Emma and Julia. ‘We’ll head off now before it gets too dark. It shouldn’t take long to reach London.’ He cocked his head to one side and looked inquiringly at Emma. ‘Or do you think we should try to find a doctor in Brentford?’
She answered without hesitation.
‘The bleeding has stopped and the wound doesn’t look too deep. So I think it better that we continue to London and get a doctor there to look at his arm. He should be fine once we get him settled in a proper bed.’
Richard nodded, impressed again by Emma’s calm and decisive manner.
‘It shall be as you wish. Would you prefer me to travel in the carriage with you?’
Emma looked at Julia. Julia shook her head.
‘No, we’ll be fine. Emma is proving to be a very efficient nurse.’ Julia smiled at her blushing friend, then wagged her finger at her brother. ‘Just make sure nothing happens to you.’
‘No fear. Be sure to let Henning know if you require anything or if Jamie’s condition deteriorates.’ Richard headed back to join Phil.
Back in the coach, Jamie had drifted off to sleep. Emma, who excelled at showing a calm face to the world regardless of the turmoil she was feeling, was currently a seething mass of nerves. What if the ball had hit him in a more critical spot? What if the assassin had hit Richard, his intended target? She couldn’t bear to contemplate it. It could so easily have been fatal for either of them. She had to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible before someone was seriously hurt. Lost in her thoughts, she was startled when Julia grasped her hand.
‘You’re very quiet, Emma. Don’t worry. Richard will see us safely home.’
Julia’s utter confidence in her brother’s abilities made Emma feel wistful. If only she had someone she could rely on completely. But experience had taught her that she couldn’t rely on anyone, not even her father.
‘I’m sorry. Don’t worry about me,’ Emma whispered in reply, trying not to disturb her sleeping brother. ‘I should be taking care of you, especially in your condition.’
‘Nonsense. I’m fine,’ replied Julia. ‘Now, try and get some sleep. It shouldn’t be too long.’
Meanwhile, in the curricle, Richard was mentally berating himself. He couldn’t forgive himself for not spotting the culprit who’d obviously been lurking at the side of the road. It was his fault that the boy had been injured; if only he hadn’t leaned back when he did. Would Emma ever forgive him?
His mind continued in circles. Could it have been down to Wheatley? Why? What motive did the man have? And why had no other suspects presented themselves? Richard knew that he had to sort this mess out as soon as possible, for Emma’s sake.
The curricle gave a sudden lurch as its wheels went over a hidden pothole and Richard was almost thrown out of his seat.
Phil, who was riding alongside, grinned.
‘Steady there. You’ll never make the Four Horse Club at that rate.’
‘Don’t think they’d have me in any case. It’s a good thing that we’re nearly there. I’ve had enough shocks for one day.’
Chapter 10
The horses had barely halted in front of the Bedford Square townhouse before Richard leapt down and was hammering on the door. A footman stood to attention as Grimes, Richard’s ever-efficient butler, greeted him with a bow.
‘Good evening, sir. Welcome back. We received your message, and the guest rooms have been prepared for Mrs Morton and the young lady and her brother. Mr Morton is already here, by the way.’ The butler took Richard’s greatcoat and handed it to the footman as he continued speaking. ‘I took the liberty of settling him in the library to await your arrival. Your brother is also here.’
Richard nodded. Well, it seemed everyone was present and correct, even David.
‘Thank you, Grimes. Would you arrange for hot baths to be prepared for the two ladies? I’ll have one later. I have some things to do first. Most importantly, send one of the footmen to fetch Dr Donaldson immediately.’
The butler’s face turned solicitous.
‘I hope nothing is amiss, sir. Is one of the ladies unwell?’
‘No. We suffered an accident on the way. My young cousin hurt his arm. I’m sure it’s nothing serious, but I want to set his sister’s mind at rest.’
‘Of course, sir. I’ll see to it right away.’ Grimes gestured to another of the footmen, gave him whispered instructions, and the man sped off into the dark. The rumble of wheels on the cobbles heralded the arrival of Julia’s coach, which had been following close behind. Julia beckoned from the coach window and Richard’s stomach lurched, wondering what other disaster had occurred. Vaulting back down to the street, he flung open the carriage door, astounding the footman who’d been poised to let down the steps.
‘What is it, Julia? Is Emma unwell? How is Jamie?’ Had the lad taken a turn for the worse or Emma succumbed to shock? His heart raced as these fears crowded his thoughts. When had he become such a nerve-racked fellow?
Julia held a finger to her lips. ‘Shh. Nothing is amiss,’ she whispered.
He peered past her into the gloom of the coach. Both Jamie and Emma were slumbering.
‘Oh. They’re both asleep.’
‘Very observant of you, Richard,’ was his sister’s tart reply. ‘No wonder you manage to do so well.’ She held out her hand. ‘Here, help me down.’
Richard’s racing heart returned to its normal pace.
As he escorted Julia into the vestibule, he smiled and said, ‘I believe George is in the library.’
Julia gave a little gasp and sped off up the stairs, lifting her skirts as she ran. Richard shook his head and chuckled. She’d definitely recovered from her indisposition of the morning. Richard turned briskly to the footman, who was now shuffling his feet and gazing up at the star-filled sky.
‘Take the young gentleman up to the room Mrs Wilson has prepared for him. Mind his arm as you go. He’s suffered an injury.’
Jamie barely stirred as the burly chap hefted him in his arms and took him inside. Emma was still fast asleep. She didn’t stir at all when Richard picked her up. Cradling her against his chest, he manoeuvred her out of the coach and up the steps. As he climbed the stairs with his burden, he caught her subtle scent. It reminded him of summer roses.
Disturbed by the movement, Emma opened her eyes, blinking in the light of the resplendently lit stairwell.
‘Where am I?’ she asked, alarm in her eyes. ‘Goodness, what are you doing? I can walk perfectly well. Please put me down.’
He hissed into her ear. ‘Keep still, for pity’s sake, or I’ll drop you. I’m taking you to your room.’ She gave a frustrated groan but stopped struggling. ‘You were fast asleep and Julia didn’t want me to disturb you. Jamie is being settled, and the doctor is on his way to see him.’
At last, to his relief, he reached his destination. Emma wasn’t heavy, but for some reason, his pulse was racing and he was finding it difficult to breathe. H
e pushed open the bedchamber door with his knee and caught his breath. It still gave him a jolt seeing the familiar furnishings with their colours of springtime.
‘Oh, what a beautiful room.’
Emma’s whispered exclamation brought him to his senses. He set her on her feet, but somehow his arm remained around her waist as she joined him in admiring the bedchamber.
‘This used to be my mother’s room,’ he murmured wistfully. ‘It’s on the quiet side of the house, so you shouldn’t be disturbed by the noise of tradesmen in the morning. She loved it because it catches the morning sun… said it was like waking up in a garden. I’d quite forgotten how lovely it is. It’s an age since I’ve been in here, not since Mama…’ His gaze met Emma’s upturned eyes, and he became suddenly aware that he still had his arm about her. He released her and she moved swiftly away. It had felt good, her being so close to him. Her body fitted neatly against his. He could get used to that. Richard gave himself a mental shake. Emma was far too independent-minded for him. He was just being ridiculously fanciful. Wasn’t he?
It was Emma who broke the silence between them.
‘I’m sorry. I’ll move to another room if you prefer. You’ll want to keep her room as it is.’
‘No. You misunderstand me,’ he said. ‘I miss her, but I can’t help but think she would approve of you having her room.’
He stepped nearer, taking in every detail of her face.
‘She would have liked you, I’m sure,’ he rushed on, the words tumbling out of his mouth. ‘And I’m certain she would expect me to take care of you. What I mean to say is, I want to…’
The unexpected intrusion of two footmen bearing a heavy trunk cut his words short.
‘Shall we put it here, my lord?’ one of them asked, mopping his gleaming brow.
Richard gathered his disordered wits and nodded to the man. Deciding that he’d already said too much, he bowed to Emma and departed.
Emma gaped as Richard left the room. They’d been having a conversation, and she was beginning to feel as if she was getting to know him better, when he’d suddenly clammed up. His moving words about his mother had almost managed to dispel the crushing embarrassment of waking up and finding herself in his arms. Emma flushed at the memory, recalling dark, intense eyes and a mouth with the hint of a smile – the closest she’d ever been to a man’s lips. The stubble on his chin made him appear darker and very masculine. The wonder of it was that she hadn’t felt frightened. Rather, like the evening she’d spent with him at Easterby Hall, she’d felt safe.
Wrapping her arms around herself, Emma gave a deep sigh. She’d have to be careful. Richard was a compelling and attractive man, and if she didn’t heed her mother’s warning, she would be in great danger of falling under his spell.
Once clear of Emma’s room, Richard mentally berated himself. It was becoming a bit of a habit. What had he been thinking, telling Emma about his mother? Those were the sort of confidences one only disclosed to a female one had feelings for, not a headstrong miss like Emma. For a cautious man like himself, his high-spirited sister had been enough of a strain on his nerves. He wasn’t going to choose the same qualities in a wife.
Richard entered his bedchamber and started to remove his travel-stained clothes. Untying his neckcloth, he folded it neatly for Carson to take to be laundered and placed his jacket on the back of his chair before sitting down, one booted foot resting on his knee.
Try as he might, he couldn’t help thinking about Emma, picturing her delicate features. What was it about her that kept drawing him in? Every time he looked into her eyes, it was as if he was drowning, and it put to flight all his rational thoughts. What should he do? This mental confusion was beyond his experience. His only passions up to now had been engines and science, not females. He’d intended that his search for a wife would be undertaken rationally and not involve a maelstrom of emotion. He cupped his chin in his hands and frowned. He was thoroughly confused.
A short time later, with a change of clothes and a clearer head, Richard bowled into the library, only to find Julia and George there entangled in an embrace. Reversing sharply, he made a great play of rattling the door handle and coughing. By the time he entered again, they were seated decorously on the sofa, holding hands. Only George’s tousled hair and rumpled neckcloth stood evidence of his previous activity, while Julia’s flushed face beamed. Richard wondered why his brother-in-law had the appearance of a man who’d just been granted a knighthood.
‘Good to see you, George,’ he said. ‘You look… well. I see Julia found you.’
George grinned back at him. ‘Yes, and she’s brought wonderful news.’
Richard sent him a puzzled look. Surely the fact that they’d been attacked wasn’t that wonderful, or was he missing something?
‘What do you mean? Don’t quite understand, old man.’
‘What he means, my dear Richard,’ cut in Julia smoothly, ‘is that you may soon be an uncle. I’m expecting a happy event. Before autumn’s end, I think.’ She turned with a smile to her husband, who gazed at her with besotted eyes.
Richard’s mouth dropped open. He was delighted at the prospect of being an uncle, but the thought of what could have gone wrong on their journey back to London made his blood run cold.
‘So that’s why you were feeling unwell?’ he managed to get out at last. ‘It’s wonderful news, of course. But you should have told me,’ he said sternly. ‘What if something else had gone wrong? Believe me, George, if I’d known, I’d not have permitted her to travel.’
‘Precisely why I didn’t want you to know,’ his sister flashed back at him. ‘I thought George should be the first to learn of it, in any case. I wasn’t entirely sure myself until a couple of days ago.’
Richard pursed his lips, struggling with his contrary thoughts. How could he keep his family safe if they didn’t tell him things? The headstrong minx. She’d always gone her own way. Richard saw that George was still grinning inanely at his wife. At least he didn’t seem angry that his spouse’s life had been placed in danger.
‘Well, congratulations to the two of you,’ Richard said gruffly.
George patted his wife’s hand. ‘To tell the truth, I’m glad I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have let her travel up to visit you. You’re going to have to be more careful now, Julia, my love.’
‘Fiddle!’ answered Julia. ‘I hope you’re not going to be boring and insist I rest all the time.’ She smiled mischievously at her spouse. ‘I’m not planning on doing anything dangerous, you know.’
‘No, I know you won’t. It’s just that… well, you’re even more precious now.’ George sent her an adoring look.
Richard, certain he was de trop at this point, decided to leave them to it.
They didn’t notice him depart.
Meanwhile, in her room, Emma was still a little dazed from the agitations of the journey. She’d hoped that a short trip to London would be uneventful. There’d been sufficient excitement on the journey from the continent, enough to last her a lifetime. Well, perhaps a little excitement in the future would not be too bad, she thought, provided it did not involve loved ones getting shot.
A knock sounded on the bedroom door. Thinking it might be news about Jamie, Emma called for whoever it was to enter. She found herself confronted by the sharp, penetrating blue eyes of a slightly built gentleman sporting sparse grey hair and an air of self-importance.
He pushed at the spectacles perched on the end of his nose and inquired, ‘Miss Smith?’ His voice had a Scottish burr.
‘No… I mean yes, that’s me.’
She’d almost forgotten Richard’s advice about assuming a different surname.
The gentleman frowned. ‘I’m Dr Donaldson. I was instructed that you should be told of your brother’s condition as soon as I’d assessed him. I’m happy to say that he’s doing well. The wound he sustained is only slight
, and providing infection doesn’t set in, he’ll not have much scarring.’ Donaldson gave his spectacles another shove. ‘Apart from that, he seems to be a fit young man, so I’m hopeful he’ll make a complete recovery. I’ve left the wound open to the air, which should aid healing.’
The doctor cocked his head to one side and sent her an appraising look. ‘I understand you had the presence of mind to wash the wound with alcohol. Where did you learn to do that?’
‘That’s correct. I’ve seen that sort of thing done to good effect on my travels in Europe.’
Donaldson scratched his chin, a thoughtful expression on his face. ‘Yes, in the circumstances you wouldn’t have been able to cauterise the wound, so you did reasonably well, I suppose, for a female.’ He wagged his finger at her. ‘But I’d have preferred it if you’d used cider vinegar instead.’
Emma bit her tongue. Why did men always feel that anything a woman did well was despite their sex? She pasted a smile on her face.
‘May I see him now?’
‘Certainly. But as I have given him a draught of laudanum, he is likely sleeping.’ The doctor pulled himself up to his full height and gave her a condescending smile. ‘If that is all, I’ll say good evening. Send for me if any swelling or feverishness develops, as it may be necessary to bleed him.’
Dr Donaldson gave a bow and made his stately way towards the stairs.
Emma hurried to Jamie’s room, which she’d been told was next to hers. The maid seated at her brother’s bedside looked up as Emma entered and whispered, ‘He’s gone to sleep just this minute, miss. I’m to stay with him for now, and one of the other maids will be with him through the night.’
‘That won’t be necessary. I’ll stay with him,’ replied Emma. She wasn’t going to neglect her duties.
‘But, begging your pardon, miss. His Lordship insisted you were not to be troubled. I’m sorry, miss. I have to stay here. I promise I’ll call you if the young gentleman’s condition changes.’
A Gentleman’s Promise: A Regency Romance (Gentlemen Book 1) Page 11