“For the last time, tell me what you’ve done with Damocles,” he said.
“Edward, you’ve forgotten yourself. Did I bring you up to mistreat a lady?”
“You...you—”
Darius locked eyes with Hal and nodded once. They’d never get a better opportunity because Pallister was deliberately keeping his son’s attention. He looked at Flick and bent his knees, hoping she’d understand, convinced they thought alike in so many ways that she had to. He couldn’t lose her, not now, he absolutely couldn’t.
When she nodded, his heart lurched with relief.
“Now!” he yelled.
Before Lord Edward could react, Flick fell to the floor, her wrist still in his loose grip, and Darius lunged for Lord Edward’s gun hand. Unfortunately Lord Edward was too quick for him. He swung round, glowering with rage, and fired at Darius at virtually point-blank range.
Chapter Twenty
At first Darius felt nothing but an extreme sense of relief. There was no pain so the bullet must have missed. Perhaps that was because something tumbled him to the ground when the pistol discharged. Lord Edward’s body half covered his, so that must have been what it was. He fell as he fired. Darius’s mind was hazy since he hit his head hard when it made contact with the floor. Even so, he was sure that Flick, from her crouched position, had grabbed Lord Edward’s ankle and caused him to tumble. His heart swelled with pride at her courage and quick thinking.
Comforting warmth spread through his body and he smelled the tang of fresh blood. He felt peaceful, especially when he heard the heavy tread of the sergeant-at-arms pulling Lord Edward to his feet and taking him in charge.
Flick’s lovely face hovered above him, lined with anxiety. “Darius, talk to me. Are you all right? Darius, Darius, I—”
She was crying as someone—Rob, he thought it was—pulled her away and cradled her in his arms. He wanted to tell her there was nothing to cry about but he couldn’t seem to speak. The left side of his chest hurt like the devil. He tried to lift a hand to reassure Flick but he couldn’t find the energy. It was too much trouble. Everything was too much effort. His head felt even more befuddled. He’d close his eyes, just for a moment, and take a rest. He was tired. More tired than he’d ever been in his entire life.
The last thing he felt before he lost consciousness was someone pressing down on the part of his chest that hurt so much, telling him over and over again not to close his eyes.
* * *
When he woke up again he had no idea where he was but knew immediately that Flick was in the room. The perfume he associated with her, reminding him of sunshine and wildflowers, overwhelmed his senses. He blinked until the room came into focus. It was a large bedchamber, well-appointed and comfortable, but he didn’t recognize it.
“Darius, you’re awake!”
He cautiously turned his head to the side. “Flick?”
His heart lightened when he saw her there, dressed in bright yellow, a book open on her lap. She cast it aside and sat on the edge of the bed, placing a hand on his brow.
“How do you feel?”
“Where am I?”
“In Grosvenor Street.”
“How long have I been here?”
“Two days.” She frowned. “Do you remember what happened?”
“Armstrong, he shot me.”
“Yes, it’s good that you can remember. We were worried that perhaps...” She gulped and tears swamped her eyes. “I thought I’d lost you.”
“Not a chance. There’s a question I need to ask you that’s long overdue.”
“The bullet just missed your heart, otherwise...” She swallowed again and took a moment to compose herself. “Hal stemmed the bleeding until a doctor came.”
“But you saved me. I remember you grabbed Edward’s ankle and made him miss his shot.”
Her breast swelled with indignation. “You imagine I would allow him to shoot you?”
“But there was so little time. How did you think so quickly?”
“Being in love has sharpened my senses.”
Darius felt overwhelmed. “If my head didn’t hurt so much I’d kiss you.”
“You banged it, which is why you’ve been unconscious for so long.”
“And Hal stemming the bleeding from the shot saved me.”
“He blames himself for not getting me out when he could. Fortunately, the bullet only grazed your side.”
“But if you hadn’t caused Edward to fall, it would have found my heart.”
“It couldn’t have it,” Flick said stubbornly. “It already belongs to me.”
“You are truly remarkable,” Darius said, feeling weak from the effort it took him just to talk.
“Shush, you need to rest.”
“Don’t worry about me. I...”
Darius couldn’t keep his eyes open and drifted off into a dreamless sleep. When he woke the next time, Flick was still there. She was wearing a different gown—rose-pink this time—so he assumed he’d slept through another night. His head felt clearer and he was hungry.
“Morning, precious,” he said cheerfully.
She flew to his side and took his hand. “You look better.”
“I feel it. I’m hungry.”
“Here, take a sip of water.” She held the glass to his lips and supported his head while he drank. “I’ll ring for some broth.”
“It’s not broth I want.” He smiled at her. “Come closer.”
“Darius, you can’t!”
“Can’t kiss my intended?” He feigned disgust. “Is that the sort of wife you plan to be? Rationing kisses?”
“No, of course not.” She placed a chaste kiss on his brow. He would have smiled, except it hurt. “I intend to kiss you all the time just as soon as we’re sure you’re well enough.”
“Allow me to be the judge of that.”
“Darius, take care. You have been so very ill. I would not have you set yourself back for the sake of a silly kiss.”
“A silly kiss? There’s absolutely nothing silly about kissing you. It’s a deadly serious business.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“I feel much better, having you as a nurse.” When that wasn’t rewarded with the kiss he’d been hoping for he sighed and turned his attention back to business. “What happened to Armstrong?”
“Lord Edward is in Newgate but his father is trying to get him committed to Bedlam. He’s already putting it about that he’s lost his mind and so can’t be held responsible for his actions.”
“Ah, of course.” Darius was disgusted. “The father will abandon the son in the hope of regaining his position in political circles.” He cautiously shook his head. “How can he sleep at night?”
“Your clients have been acquitted but Lord Peters has abruptly taken himself off to Jamaica to oversee the work on his father’s plantations. If he sets foot on English soil again he will be arrested.”
“So he should be.” Darius paused. “I suppose Lord Pallister did order the destruction of his son’s horse. That would be what he told his attendant to arrange when I brought up the subject of the horse in court. For once he miscalculated since it obviously didn’t occur to him that his own son would turn against him.”
“No, obviously not.”
“Is my mother still here?”
“Yes, we concealed your condition from her until we were sure you would recover. We told her you were living in your chambers.”
Darius smiled his gratitude. “Thank you. You seem to have thought of everything.”
“Lord Jackson has enquired after you every day. He told me to assure you that he would keep his side of your bargain.” She flashed an impish smile. “I can’t imagine why he thought that would be of any interest to me.”
“Can’t you?” Darius slipped one hand from beneath the covers and tapped her bottom.
“Darius!”
“Has the doctor given an opinion about how much longer I must remain here?”
“Why? Are you in
a tearing hurry to be elsewhere?”
“Yes, darling. It is my most earnest desire to place myself before a parson and become a married man. I’m tired of the single state.”
“Is that so?” Flick brushed the hair back from his brow and then bestowed a soft kiss on it. “Have you picked out a bride who will be a credit to his majesty’s newest King’s Counsel?” she asked with a sensuous smile that, in spite of his debilitated condition, went straight to his groin.
“I have selected the most disobedient, stubborn, pigheaded—”
“Aren’t stubborn and pigheaded the same thing?”
“Don’t interrupt when I’m trying to propose.”
“Oh, is that what you’re doing?” She canted her head and regarded him with a saucy smile. “I must say that your proposals aren’t nearly as eloquent as your performance at the Old Bailey. Calling a lady stubborn and pigheaded—”
“Even if she is?”
“Especially then.”
“Perhaps you’re right.”
“If she’s not sensible or clever like you, then the two of you ought to get along splendidly. After all, aren’t opposites supposed to attract?”
She was leaning directly over his face and Darius took the opportunity to steal a kiss. A man who made his living with words ought to find expressing himself easy, and yet he became tongue-tied and maladroit in Flick’s company. No matter, he thought, deepening the kiss. He’d just have to let his actions speak for him.
* * * * *
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Compromising the Marquess
England, 1814
Leah Elliot sells secrets to survive. Donning boy’s clothes, she uncovers society scandals for a London gossip rag to support herself and her sister, who were left destitute after their father’s death. When she meets the dashing—and perhaps dangerous—Hal Forster, the Marquess of Denby, she learns he may be involved in treason. The rumor is too valuable not to sell, despite her attraction to him...
Hal does have a secret, but he’s no traitor: he’s a spy embroiled in a mystery, seeking the man who killed his contact in France. He sees the alluring woman behind Leah’s disguise at once but is intrigued enough to play along...until he realizes that she’s the source of the
rumors interfering with his investigation and forcing him into an unwanted betrothal.
Now, Hal and Leah must work together to draw out the culprit and undo the damage caused by Leah’s gossip. Or will their passion only cause more scandal?
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About the Author
Wendy Soliman was brought up on the Isle of Wight in southern England but now divides her time between Andorra and west Florida. She lives with her husband, Andre, and a rescued dog of indeterminate pedigree named Jake Bentley.
Wendy has more than twenty published novels to her credit—a mixture of Regency and contemporary romance, with a few mysteries thrown in for good measure.
When not writing she enjoys reading other people’s books, walking miles with her dog whilst plotting her next scene, and is on a one-woman mission to save the wine industry from the economic slump. Well, someone’s got to do it!
Wendy’s other books from Carina Press include Of Dukes and Deceptions, A Scandalous Proposition, The Perfect Impostor and Compromising the Marquess.
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ISBN: 978-14268-9566-1
Copyright © 2013 by Wendy Soliman
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Beguiling the Barrister Page 24