by Julia Donner
“He fainted before Evangeline did.”
Freddy cursed through pain-stiffened lips. “But where’s Evangeline?”
“Gone to fetch Harry’s curricle and check on his tiger. She’s going ahead to Cavendish to get ready for you. Crimm, see if Harry’s done beating the life out of Hardwicke-Baines.”
Something was terribly wrong. Freddy tried to think through the fog and pain. “Wait. You let her go off on her own?”
Asterly gripped his knee. “Freddy, you must stop moving! Harry will drive her, and we’ve accounted for all the outriders.”
Crimm returned to the carriage door. “Lord Grieves, if you would look over there. One can see the carriage and horses on the road directly beyond the trees.”
Freddy squinted. It was all a green blur. “Where are the pistols?”
“Sir Harry will collect them.”
“Then he isn’t with her. Blast it!”
Chapter 31
Evangeline knelt beside the fallen coachman from the rented phaeton. She’d hurried to his side when she discovered him sprawled on the road. A stranger held the team’s heads on the other side of the carriage. She chastised herself for leaving the pistols behind, but how was she to know there were more villains involved? Asterly had thought they were all accounted for, including Archibald’s steward.
She could see the throb of the coachman’s pulse in his neck. Assured the man was not dead, she stayed crouched by his side, pretending to be interested in his condition. From the corner of her eye, she had noticed movement coming around the back of the carriage. Then a pair of shiny boots halted on the other side of the prostrate coachman.
A stab of fear stole her ability to reason. She’d expected another ruffian but cast off that idea when she recognized the cologne. She should’ve known and never let down her guard.
Rising up, she confronted Archibald. “I must surmise that you are in allegiance with Hardwicke-Baines solely due to your unreasonable hatred of me.”
“I know you well, Evangeline. Always riding to someone’s rescue. I thought I might get you alone at some point.”
“It is too late to twist my son’s head with your tricks. He’s been told the truth about you.”
“Toying with him was merely a method of annoying you and drawing you out. Beyond your inferiority, I have always detested every word out of your mouth. The duel provided the opportunity to shut it permanently. You are about to become an unfortunate victim of a shooting accident.”
“A shot gone wild, Archibald?”
“Not from the duel. All the gunfire afterward.”
“If these are to be my last words, you are a madman and an idiot. Grieves, Asterly or Sir Harry will see you dead.”
Her last-ditch threat became real with the sounds crackling brush. Alarm choked off her breath when Grieves staggered out of the forest, his right arm hanging limply at his side. Asterly followed him, aiming his weapon at the man holding the phaeton’s team. Archibald’s helper fled.
A scuffle was soon heard in the woods. Harry called from the other side of the phaeton, “This lot’s sorted out. Shoot the pederast, Freddy, and be done with it.”
Archibald stepped over the coachman and grabbed the knife from Evangeline’s waistband. He clutched a handful of her hair through the cap and twisted her head to expose her neck.
Grieves raised the pistol, his left hand steady. “I have every reason to put a shot in your eye, McInnlay. I will only make one offer. Let her go and live.”
In a shaky voice, Archibald said, “You’re done in, Grieves, and won’t risk hitting her.”
“I don’t miss. Ever.”
The blade against her skin trembled. Warm, wet trickled down her neck. She searched for calm and said, “Alfred, he isn’t worth the loss of your freedom.”
Grieves smiled. “Your right eye, McInnlay, on the count of three.”
Lord Archibald cried out, his voice shrill from terror, “Listen to her, you fool! Your shooting arm is wounded. You’ll kill her before hitting me!”
The stare Grieves leveled Archibald didn’t waver. Neither did his aim. Behind him, Asterly and Crimm stood fixed in place. Asterly whispered something.
Grieves, his face blanched of all color, answered by allowing his head to move slightly in a negative shake. “No, Perry. I’d rather do as Harry said. Shoot him down and be done with it.”
Lord Archibald broke, “Leave and I’ll let her go! You can’t shoot left-handed. Not in your condition!”
Grieves smiled. “But you see, I had to be trained to use my right hand. I wasn’t born that way.”
Evangeline saw him make the decision to shoot and did the only thing she could think to do. She buckled and fell to the ground. The pistol’s report rang loud in her ear as she moved, slow enough that she felt heated lead whiz by her face.
Lord Archibald shrieked, dropped the knife, and clutched his ear. Evangeline opened her eyes in time to see Freddy collapse. Grabbing her skirts, she struggled to her feet and hurried to him, ignoring the screams issuing from Archibald and the warmth of her own blood from the knife nick on her cheek.
Beyond feeling ill at the sight of so much of Freddy’s blood, she gathered his head on her lap. “Alfred! What have you done? Look at me.”
His eyes fluttered open, bright and feverish. She began to cry in earnest when he smiled. “Hush, love. I would’ve got the bastard in the eye if you hadn’t turned faint-hearted.”
“Oh, you beast! You dreadful, horrid man. I would kiss you but you don’t deserve it. Oh, Asterly, Mr. Crimm, he’s bleeding again! Please, let us take him to Ollie.”
Asterly knelt to gently insert an arm under Grieves. “Not to worry, Evangeline. I’ve seen much worse wounds come around right as rain. If not for the jewelry case, it might’ve been fatal. Harry, your head’s still bleeding.”
“It is but a scratch. May I have your handkerchief?”
“Only if you use it on yourself and not on Freddy. I told this bull-headed lout it would disturb the wound if he went after McInnlay.”
Grieves mumbled a curse, readying himself when Asterly lifted his shoulders and Harry positioned himself to lift at the knees. Crimm held a clean stick and told Grieves to bite down before he stepped out of the way.
Evangeline muffled a sob with the back of her wrist to keep from crying out when the two men hoisted Grieves from the ground and carried him to the carriage.
Crimm helped her inside the coach, while the men maneuvered Grieves inside with his head on her lap. He passed out and the stick rolled to the foot well, nearly bit through. She called out the open door, “Mr. Crimm, send someone ahead to the nearest inn. Purchase a quantity of sugared tea.”
Grieves roused enough to say, “I’d rather have what Peregrine keeps in the drawer.”
As the carriage began to roll, Harry pulled out the drawer under the seat and found a flask. He shook it. “There’s some left. You first.”
Brandy got spilled when Harry tipped the flask. “There you go, Freddy. Keep your mouth open, just like a baby bird.”
Evangeline tugged her own handkerchief from the inside of her left cuff. She dabbed the spilled brandy. “I should be grateful you got more on his chin that in his mouth. Now I recall Ollie saying strong spirits were not always the best.”
Asterly took the flask from his brother and extending it toward Grieves, wrapped his own fingers around Grieves’s to help guide it. “We’ll take her advice later. Drink down what you can, Freddy. We’ve got to put another dressing of some kind on that wound before you lose more blood.”
Asterly snapped at his brother. “Give me your neckcloth. How in the name of Hades do you always stay so clean?”
Grieves mumbled, “Got something else for me to bite on while you do that?”
“Here,” Harry said. “Use the flask. That stick is too soft. This is leather-covered and thin enough. We’ll try to be quick about this. Evangeline, sit more to the side so we can get at him.”
Grieves lost
what little color he had left when they used a flat jewel case to brace the folded pad, then wrapped the neckcloth as tightly as possible under his arm and around his shoulder.
After they resumed their seats, everyone stared at Grieves, who muttered. “Lud, I’m not dead yet. Somebody smile.”
Chapter 32
Evangeline led the way into the house when they reached Cavendish. Grieves didn’t waken when he was carried upstairs. Olivia had everything ready and began cutting away clothes as soon as they got Grieves on the bed.
Asterly excused himself, which left Harry to help. Olivia glanced at the foot of the bed where Evangeline hovered. “Can you do this without fainting, Evie?”
She lied with a nod. Nothing would take her away. They’d passed Ned in the foyer, who’d stood in mute shock at the sight of Grieves’s ashen complexion. She’d spared a moment to squeeze his hand and give him a smile of comfort. She wished someone would do the same for her. She couldn’t stop the quivering inside and out from worry, exhaustion, and relief. She placed all of her hopes on Olivia. Olivia had always found ways to watch and learn. Her friend knew more about medicine than any physician.
Keeping her attention on the task of cutting through the tough material, Olivia said, “Go on the other side of the bed. Hold his hand. I don’t want to tie it down if we can avoid it. Harry, be ready when I get this bandage off. The wound will start oozing again. The lead has to come out as quickly as possible. I’m going to take off the soaked bandage, while you pour half of that decanter directly into the wound. Are we ready? Evie, be strong.”
Grieves woke with a shout when the cloudy liquid was poured into the ragged hole. Olivia quickly blotted the wound. “Grieves? Freddy? You must stay still now. I can see the ball. Are you ready?”
Evangeline said, “Hold my hand, Alfred.”
His face now flushed from fever, he muttered, “No, love. Might break it. Use both of yours to hold my wrist down. Harry, where’s that flask?”
“Left it in the coach. Use this.”
Harry extended a finger. Grieves weakly laughed and winced. After glancing around the room, Harry went to the bookshelf and removed a thin volume of poems. “This will do.”
Evangeline made the sign of the cross, placed her hands on Grieves’s wrist, and carefully leaned her full weight on his arm. When Harry had a firm hold on the other, Grieves whispered, “Close your eyes, Evangeline. Don’t watch. Keep saying your rosary.”
Olivia had the lead ball out before Grieves finished his shout. “That wasn’t so terrible,” he said with a gasp. “It actually feels better now that it’s out.”
Olivia swiftly threaded a needle. “Harry, pour more of that liquid and blot it with the pad. The worst is over, Grieves. That piece of lead had a chip of the jewel case under it. If Asterly hadn’t cleverly used the case for pressure against the wound, you would’ve lost too much blood. But that jagged piece of metal must have felt horrific pressed again your shoulder bone.”
Harry removed the pad he’d been using to stop the bleeding when Olivia instructed, “Lift the lamp closer.”
While she surveyed the wound, Harry cheerfully said, “A bit of luck that you had it in your breast pocket, Freddy. Must’ve deflected the lead. What were you doing with it on you during a duel? Surely you could have paid off the…er, lady some other day.”
Grieves unclenched his teeth. “Idiot. It’s a trifle. A gift for Evangeline. Forgot it was there until we got to the field.”
Harry made a rude cluck. “That’s a Banbury if I ever heard one. Evie, you had better set the boundaries right off. Set the fellow straight. No mistresses. They’re too much fuss, right, Ollie?”
Concentrating on her task, she hummed an absentminded reply. Grieves muttered, “Evangeline, shove that flask back in my mouth before I say something irregular in front of you ladies. Blast it, Lady Collyns, aren’t you done with that yet?”
She snipped off the end of a thread. “Only one more to go. Now that jagged piece is out, the bleeding has stopped.”
When Evangeline started to leak weak tears, Harry heartily encouraged, “Not to worry, Evie. My girl makes the prettiest stitches. Can’t even find the ones she put in my face. And I ask you, is that fair? Scars that lovely are meant to be shown off.”
“Stubble it,” Grieves muttered, and to Evangeline he said, “If you can bear it, open your trifle.”
“Oh, not now, Alfred. Let us wait until you are more the thing. Will you take more tea?”
He grimaced. “Had enough of it to last me a year. Harry, find me a bottle of claret.”
“No,” Olivia murmured, snipping off the thread. “If your valet hasn’t arrived, Crimm and Harry are going to get you out of these filthy clothes. Then, you will rest. Beef tea and plenty of it. There is a birch bark remedy that you must drink, starting now.”
Grieves glanced at Harry. “That tone does make one wish to behave.” When Olivia started to collect the supplies she had spread across the bed, he reached for her hand. “Thank you, Olivia.”
Olivia placed her hand over his. “Thank Evangeline. If she hadn’t filled you full of that sugar tea, you might not have made it this far. It also helped that Peregrine has spent enough time on the battlefields to affix a pressure dressing. But…I’m curious and would very much like to see what is in that case. Is it a tasteful strand of coral or something shockingly inappropriate?”
Chapter 33
Evangeline shook her head. “Oh, I can’t look at it just yet.”
Grieves said, “Sapphires, my Lady Collyns. Double stranded. Great, huge rocks. The largest I’ve every seen.”
Evangeline scowled. “You bought me blue gems?”
“But of course. To match my eyes.”
Evangeline pressed her hand on his forehead. “He feverish. Sir Harry, the tisane, if you please, and assist to lift him up. And, Grieves, you will drink it all down. Ollie, the case is there by your hand. Open it.”
After resettling Grieves on the pillows, Harry stood by Olivia to watch her pry open the bent lid. Glittering blue stones tumbled out onto the bedcover.
Grieves sleepily explained, “Crimm found them for me. They’re the ones you sent him to sell to Rundell and Bridge two years ago.”
Evangeline’s shoulders sagged. “Yes, for the stay in Italy. These were some of Papa’s favorite gems. Someone did lovely work cutting them.”
“As I said. I wanted something to match my eyes.”
“The only place one could wear those is at court,” Evangeline protested, “and even then, they are too grand.”
Sir Harry said, “Why, that’s a marvelous idea. Prinny’s a friend of mine, although I vow old Florizel will want those sparklers the instant he sees them. Lucky for us that your trifle box deflected the shot. It would have put Freddy under.”
The understanding of how close they’d come to standing at his graveside, instead of at his bedside, made her yearn to have that moment back, when on the field she had the choice of shooting down Hardwicke-Baines or the man aiming at Grieves in the forest.
Sir Harry asked, “Ah, did I just hear our dear Evie call someone a mud-sucking, fornicating pig?”
With a sleepy smile, Grieves gazed up at his heroine. “Yes, she’s quite fond of talking about fornicating, but always discreetly.”
Evangeline sat on the bed facing him. “Stop telling my secrets, Grieves, and Ollie, you may stop pretending that you are so shocked. It is a perfectly good word, and perhaps I like to use it so frequently because of its lack in my life.”
Sir Harry covered his laugh with a cough. “Ma’am! Have mercy on my short friend. He is quite unfit to the task at the moment.”
Evangeline winked at Olivia. “We shall have to make him well then.” She leaned down and stared meaningfully at Grieves. “Speedily, sir. I’ve waited long enough for my just deserts.”
Sir Harry prodded his friend’s thigh. “You heard her, Freddy. Get well.”
Lady Asterly came through with her husband followin
g. She went directly to Evangeline and enveloped her in a tight embrace. “My dear, you must be worn to the socket, and all because Freddy refused to play nicely with his friends.”
Grieves coughed, winced, and touched his shoulder. “Not a friend.”
Lady Asterly took his hand. “Freddy, you will forgive that I had to force my way in here to be assured that you were not on your deathbed, and I find you in high spirits. I do believe it would be for the best if you rest now. May I steal Evangeline from you? Her son demands her company.”
“But I am on my deathbed. She can’t leave now. I might die at any moment.”
Lady Asterly countered, “Not yet, if Olivia and Evangeline have anything to say about it. Come along, Evangeline. Freddy should rest.”
While looking at Grieves, Evangeline said, “I do not think I can leave him. He is a dreadful man, but mine, you understand, do you not?”
Sharing a speaking gaze with her husband, Lady Asterly said, “I most certainly do and will make your excuses to your son.”
When she gave Evangeline a parting embrace, Grieves asked, “What about me? I’m the injured one. No tender hugs for the dying?”
Lady Asterly replied, “You’ll live, Freddy. You’re tough as teak. Now, we shall all leave these lovebirds to their cooing. Out, all of you. I must give report to an anxious lad waiting for news downstairs. He asked me to express his concern. You’ve made a conquest, Freddy. He quite obviously admires you for some reason that escapes me at the moment. Evangeline, your boy’s grown up into a delightful young man. I’m so happy for you both. Before we go, I should mention that Lord Archibald has decided to take an extended ocean voyage. It was quite the easiest thing to accomplish. We trundled him off at first tide.”
Grieves chuckled and winced again. “Oh, you are a dear. Please tell me it’s somewhere impressive?”
“Why, yes, Freddy. I think he will most decidedly be impressed.”
Evangeline started to ask, but Asterly interrupted, “Duchess, you’ve only known our Lizzie as the serenely competent lady of the house. She has a different side that insists on making life more pleasant for those she loves.”
