“Please, don’t go. We haven’t had a chance to go on our adventures yet. Remember? You promised. Please don’t go, Dominick. I can’t be without you again. I love you.”
He closed his eyes and set his hand down on Dominick’s shoulder. There was no movement.
Then a warm, broad palm wrapped around his own.
Chapter 28
Dominick panted shallowly. Each breath sent another tongue of fire lapping across his chest. He wanted to just curl up and wait for the pain to end, but he couldn’t. He’d heard everything Alfie said. By some miracle of miracles, Alfie loved him back, and that alone was reason enough to go on. He grit his teeth as he let Alfie carefully roll him onto his back.
“That’s it, Nick. I’ve got you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Alfie’s hands fluttered over his chest, making quick work of Dominick’s vest and shirt to get to the wound. Dominick left him to it. His Alfie. So brave. He’d come for Dominick, had said he loved him. The thought gave Dominick the strength to reach up and cup Alfie’s face in his hand.
“I love you too,” he said.
Alfie looked stricken, and Dominick tried to soothe the look from his face. He rubbed Alfie’s cheekbone with his thumb, leaving behind a smear of blood.
“Nick, no. Don’t leave me, please.”
Dominick huffed, the movement sparking another flash of pain. “Not going anywhere. The bastard missed all the vital bits because you distracted him. You saved me, Alfie.”
“Not as much as you saved me.”
Dominick rubbed Alfie’s cheek again, coaxing the smallest of smiles out of him. Content, he let his hand drop and watched as Alfie finally got his shirt out of the way. He risked a glance down. His instinct was right, Baz’s knife had gone in a little south of his shoulder, through the meat halfway between his collarbone and his armpit. It hurt like the devil, but he’d had worse.
“I’ll live,” he said with a pleased hum.
“You’d better,” Alfie croaked, face suspiciously wet as he unwound his cravat and pressed it to Dominick’s chest to slow the bleeding. “This is the second cravat I’ve ruined because of you.”
“The first one’s over there, if you want it back. I’ll hang on to this one for now though.”
He put his hand over Alfie’s, and was rewarded with Alfie leaning down over him for a quick kiss, and then another. He finally broke away but didn’t go far, resting his forehead against Dominick’s, their noses brushing. Dominick might have to get himself stabbed more often if it got him rewards such as this. First love declarations and now kisses. He opened his mouth to say as much, but thought better of it.
Alfie must have caught the movement however because he sighed and pulled away. “We need to get you to a doctor. Can you walk?”
“I think so,” Dominick replied. “I’ll need help getting up though, and the stairs might prove tricky.”
Alfie helped him to his feet, a process that involved more bitten off curses than usual, but finally he was standing. He leaned heavily against the wall to catch his breath and surveyed the wreckage of his room. There would be no way to hide what had happened here. Blood was spattered across every wall and soaked into the floor, every piece of furniture he owned had been destroyed. And then there was the matter of Baz’s corpse lying right in the middle of it all with Alfie’s sword sticking out of him.
“Well, we can’t leave that there.”
Alfie turned, horrified. “Of course we can’t! He’s dead! We have to alert the proper authorities!”
“What? No, not Baz. Your sword. Get the rest of the cane too. The outer bit. We can’t have anything that traces back to you.”
Alfie’s brow furrowed in confusion.
“How exactly do you think you could explain this?” Dominick asked gently. “There’s a dead body, in the lodgings of a known male prostitute, with an earl’s cane sticking out of him. It’s better if we just disappear and let Spitalfields handle its own.”
Alfie opened and closed his mouth a few times like a fish. Dominick could tell he wanted to object, but eventually he would realise Dominick was right. Alfie let out a sigh when acceptance finally rolled over him, his shoulders drooping. He walked over and surveyed the body a moment, before pulling the sword out with a sickening squelch. He wiped it on Dominick’s already ruined bed linens, then picked up the outer part as well, sliding the sword back into its sheath. It appeared to be a harmless gentleman’s stick once again. Dominick reached out and Alfie passed it over without a word.
Leaning heavily on the cane, Dominick took a last look around his rooms. There was nothing of his own he needed to take with him.
“Your cravat from before,” Dominick pointed. “Get that too, just to be safe.”
Fortunately, Alfie didn’t ask why Dominick had kept it. It was just as well, he couldn’t think of an answer that wouldn’t be hopelessly sentimental. Alfie picked it up, and when he did, he took an extra moment to pick up the little tin box, and the few coins that were scattered close by. He handed them all to Dominick, who shoved them roughly in the pocket of his coat, blushing at how much the small gesture meant to him. They may have been a pittance to Alfie, but Dominick had earned every one of them and the fact that Alfie understood that warmed his heart.
“Is that everything?”
At Dominick’s nod, Alfie came around to his injured side and wrapped an arm around his waist.
“Then let’s get you to Doctor Barlowe.”
Dominick shook his head. “Just take me home.”
✽✽✽
Dominick groaned as the poorly sprung hack hurdled over the rough streets, each bounce a fresh agony. Alfie had his arm around him still and was making soft shushing noises, like one would a startled horse, and brushing Dominick’s hair back from his brow.
Night had fallen and the scarce streetlamps cast little light into the compartment, hiding Alfie’s face, but Dominick didn’t need to see him. Alfie’s care radiated more brightly than any lamp. Although that may have been the blood loss talking.
“I wish you’d let me take you straight to Doctor Barlowe’s.”
Dominick winced as the hack hit a particularly deep rut. “Too far. Your house is closer. Better to let him come to us. One of the perks of nobility, eh?”
Alfie didn’t seem to have anything to say in response to that. They had barely gone another half block though before he asked, “Who was that you were talking to when I came back?”
Dominick smiled. The trip down the stairs had exhausted him, so he had rested there while Alfie went in search of a coach, probably willing to drag the horses into Spitalfields by himself if need be.
“One of Maeve and Jimmy’s kiddies. The squeakers are worse than you for getting themselves into trouble. I gave her a tuppence and told her to tell her ma there’s work for her brothers at the boxer’s place.”
“Her ma’s brothers?”
“Resurrectionists,” Dominick said darkly. Baz didn’t deserve any better after threatening Alfie. “It was his idea after all.”
“Ah.”
Dominick had a moment to worry Alfie might be disgusted with him for even suggesting such a thing, but Alfie just pulled him closer as they rounded the corner to Bedford square. “At least he’ll finally do some good for someone other than himself.”
Between the two of them, they eventually got Dominick out of the hack. He leaned heavily on the cane, but was able to shamble up the front stairs on his own while Alfie paid the driver and sent him off to retrieve Doctor Barlowe.
The house was dark when Alfie opened the door and called out for Mrs. Hirkins.
“She said she’d stay even if dinner was going to be late. She likes you, you know.”
“Of course she does,” Dominick said. “I’m very charming. But if she sees me bleeding all over the front hall, it’ll undo all my hard work.”
“You think there’s somewhere else she’d rather you bleed all over?” Alfie snapped. Dominick might almost be offended if he couldn’t tell Al
fie was clearly worried about him.
“I handled the front steps just fine, I can handle a few more. If we get me to bed by the time the doctor arrives, we can contain the blood to one room at least. I’m sure she’ll approve of that.”
“I’m sure she won’t approve of it at all,” Alfie muttered, but went to Dominick’s side. Dominick dropped the cane on the floor to grip the banister, and with that on one side and Alfie on the other, they slowly began their ascent.
They made it up to the first landing before Dominick had to stop, and Alfie carefully maneuvered him into a chair in the hall. He lit the oil lamp on the table next to it before kneeling at Dominick’s side, looking up at him with such concern and love that Dominick was rendered speechless. Alfie’s hands were sure as he lifted the makeshift bandage from under Dominick’s hand and checked his shoulder. He let out a pleased little harrumph.
“It’s stopped bleeding. That’s good. We’ve gotten through the worst of this mess, and the rest will be over soon. Just wait until Doctor Barlowe gets here, and he’ll take care of everything.”
“Yes,” said a voice from the darkness. “I will.”
Doctor Barlowe stepped out of the shadowed depths of the study. In one hand he held the little brown bottle he had left for Alfie to take. He sighed.
“My dear boy, this would have been so much more pleasant if you had just taken your medicine.”
In his other hand, he held a pistol.
Chapter 29
“Do forgive my dropping by unannounced, but I rather expected the patient would be in bed. Imagine my surprise.”
The pistol was steady in Doctor Barlowe’s grip. Alfie stood, instinctively putting himself between Dominick and any potential shot.
“Where is Mrs. Hirkins?” Alfie asked, his voice calmer than he felt.
“Who? Oh, the quarrelsome old woman. Stashed in the drawing room. I’m afraid I rather lost my temper when she told me you were out. Bit of a bump on the head, but she should be fine in the morning.”
Alfie was at a loss. None of this made any sense.
“You poisoned the port.” Dominick’s voice rumbled with sad certainty.
Doctor Barlowe leaned to get a better look at Dominick, but Alfie stepped in his way.
“Well, aren’t you a clever one,” Doctor Barlowe tutted. “You’d best have those injuries seen to. In my experience, more men die from infection than the wounds themselves.”
“Why?” Asked Alfie. He felt stuck in a dream. A nightmare, where everything was rushing around him and he was too slow to keep up. He understood the words that were being said, but they still made no sense.
Doctor Barlowe shrugged. “Why did I poison the port? Simple opportunity. The day I treated your gunshot wound, on my way out I saw the bottle your oaf of a cousin had left for you. A good doctor has an ample supply of syringes on him at all times, so it was only the work of a minute. Besides, you can understand my frustration, I had been trying for quite a while to make it look like an accident. But you just wouldn’t die, would you?
He laughed, sounding as jovial as ever, and that chilled Alfie more than anything else.
“Do you know,” he continued, “I hadn’t even taken off my coat on when that driver you sent knocked on my door? Oh, my heart did race then, I assure you. It wasn’t until after I stitched you up I realised I still had the gun in my pocket!”
He laughed again as heartily as if he was sharing a joke amongst fellows at the pub.
“No!” Alfie protested. “You weren’t the one behind those attacks. Reginald was. He had Baz try to scare me so I’d be more easy to blackmail, and Baz killed him when he didn’t think he’d get a big enough cut!”
Doctor Barlowe's genial grin turned to a scowl. Alfie sensed Dominick behind him, struggling to stand. He pushed him back down without taking his eyes off the doctor.
“Baz didn’t kill St. John, did he?” Dominick asked from around Alfie’s side. “You did.”
“That man was a cheating, drunken, vulgar disgrace to the family name,” Doctor Barlowe sneered. “I had planned to ignore him. He was only related on your father’s side after all, but when you told me he was blackmailing you, that couldn’t stand. There could be no dark marks or rumors against you after you died or it would ruin everything I had worked for. What a repugnant fellow. You know, it took me less than an hour’s search before I saw him stumbling out of that—that den of iniquity!”
Alfie’s gorge rose in horror and revulsion. He swallowed back bile. “You slit his throat?”
“Of course,” Doctor Barlowe blinked behind his spectacles. “A full set of scalpels is a crucial component of every doctor’s bag.”
Alfie clenched his teeth to keep from being sick. Dominick’s hand pressed against his back and he leaned into it, needing both the warmth and support. His knees were weak. When he took a step to steady himself, Doctor Barlowe’s pistol followed him, still pointing straight at his heart, but now a fraction further from Dominick.
When he finally felt like he could talk without being ill all over the carpet, his voice came out as small as a scared child’s.
“But why did you want to kill me?”
Doctor Barlowe sighed and shook his head. “It was never about you, dear boy. I saw your mother again for the first time in decades when I was called to your father’s sickbed. What an angel she was, so caring and proper. I realised immediately that all the scandals that clung to her name were your father’s fault for forcing across the globe and not giving the least care for propriety! I swore then that I would do whatever was in my power to restore her good name. It broke my heart to see the fine girl I once knew tarnished by the life your father foisted upon her.”
Alfie took another step to the side, greater this time and Doctor Barlowe turned to follow him unconsciously, lost in his own thoughts. Alfie didn’t dare risk a glance at Dominick. If he could just get the doctor to forget he was there, Dominick might have a chance to… Well, in the state he was in, at best he might have a chance to escape, if Doctor Barlowe was too focused on killing Alfie. Although how far Dominick would get with his injuries before the doctor caught up to him, Alfie didn’t want to think about.
Doctor Barlowe was still speaking. “I thought after your father died, she would be happy. She’d be free to marry someone respectable, and live the sort of life a good woman of refinement should, regain the honor she was due. But instead she sunk into the most dreadful state.”
Alfie remembered how his mother had changed after his father died and Alfie became the earl. The sparkle in her eyes had dimmed and she’d shrunk away from the world, wearing her widow’s weeds as if they were her own shroud.
A part of her had been buried with her husband; it just took three years for the rest of her to join him. Alfie missed her. They’d never been as close as he’d craved, but she was still the only mother he knew, and the months since her passing had only started to dull the edges of his loss.
Doctor Barlowe looked at him with understanding. “That’s when I knew. You see that what happened wasn’t her fault? Your father had corrupted her with his sickness. Whatever madness it was that made him shirk his duties and go larking off, dragging you poor mother with him. I thought I stopped him in time by speeding his passing, but it was too late. She had it as well. Instead of being happy at his death as I had hoped, I watched her low spirits turn to melancholy.”
“‘Speeding his passing’?” whispered Dominick.
Doctor Barlowe ignored him. “That’s when I knew that while I had failed her in life, I could not fail her in death. I watched you carefully, hoping you had not inherited your father’s madness. In you there might be some redemption, some way to return the memory of her to the high standing she deserved. You had always seemed such a serious and well-heeled young man. I had high hopes that the curse of the father had not passed to the son.
“But after her death, I began to see the same signs of malignant despondency in you, and I despaired. I could hardly restor
e her good name if her only son turned out to have the same disgraceful character as his father. You do see that I never meant it personally. But I had to stop you before you married and continued the family line, with your heirs inheriting the same unhealthy and contrary disposition until the Crawford name became so steeped in scandal that your mother’s fine nature was forgotten forever.”
He smiled sadly, as if he was disappointed in Alfie for corrupting his future children before they were even born. He lifted the hand that held the bottle and gave it a quick shake.
“But listen to me prattle on. I never meant to trouble you with any of this. I was just here to check in on my patient. If you had taken your medicine tonight as you said in your letter, you would have passed quickly and quietly in your sleep. A tragedy certainly, but a respectable way for a lord to die. But you are a willful and troublesome child, so now I suppose we will have to think of something else.”
Alfie couldn’t help his bark of a laugh. In the corner of his eye Dominick tensed, but it was just too much.
All this time, he’d thought someone was trying to blackmail and kill him because he did not have noble blood. But instead it had been one man trying to kill him to stop him from passing that same blood onto his children, while two other men tried to blackmail him for having no interest in doing any such thing!
“My apologies,” Alfie said, letting out another hysterical titter. “It has been a very long night.”
He gestured towards the study behind Doctor Barlowe. “You’re right, if this is going to happen I should face it as a gentleman. Perhaps we can discuss my options? There must be a more elegant solution than just shooting me in the hall. Not very civilized. Think of how tongues will wag.”
He stepped away before Dominick could stop him, knowing he would try. They were unarmed, injured, and exhausted. As long as Doctor Barlowe had the gun, at least one of them would not be walking away from the evening.
His Lordship's Secret Page 24