“M’ lady, if you’ve finished staring at the poor man, shall we get his injury cleaned and bandaged?” Mrs. Lee inquired.
Emma looked beyond Simon to the housekeeper.
“I’m sorry. Yes, as you mentioned this is my first time seeing a man like this. It won’t happen again. Now, what would you like me to do?”
“As the wound goes through him, which is good, and I’m sure you’ll be uncomfortable touching his naked skin, I’ll roll him over so you can sponge the blood off. Then you can bathe the front of his shoulder. After which we’ll bind both injuries using the batting to absorb any bleeding or drainage,” Mrs. Lee explained.
“What about the honey? I know it’s not for the tea?”
“Ah, thank you. That will be smeared around the wound so the bandaging doesn’t stick. It also has the ability to help with the healing.”
Hearing what needed to be done, she realized her fingers would have to come in contact with Simon. Closing her eyes briefly to get focused on the task at hand, she then opened them.
“Shall we?” Emma said.
After using several flannels, she was happy to see the wound cleaned, and from what she could tell the edges were smooth. She then dipped her finger in the honey. Careful not to hurt him, she started to spread it around the wound. As she came in contact with his skin, a feeling of warmth slid up to her hand then her arm before settling over her heart.
With that done, she placed the cotton batting over the injury and secured it with a strip of sheet.
“M’ lady, don’t tie it off back there since it will become very uncomfortable when he’s lying down. We can also use the strip to hold the front wraps.”
Carefully Emma threaded the bottom end under his arm and waited until the housekeeper laid him on his back. Quickly, with the assistance of Mrs. Lee, she cleaned the front wound and bandaged it.
“M’ lady, you did a commendable job. Let’s get you cleaned up and into a fresh gown.”
Emma lifted her hands and after getting a good look at her gown, found it covered in dried blood and honey. Her hands were the same. Thankfully, she didn’t feel the least bit faint.
“I agree, but who will be watching over him while I get refreshed? Until he awakens I don’t want him left alone,” she demanded.
“M’ lady, I understand completely and have already decided I will. Due to my age and situation I won’t need a chaperone, but if you insist on sitting with him, Her Grace will insist on one for you,” Mrs. Lee stated.
“Abby, can sit with me.” With a nod Emma excused herself and started for her suite, only to be side tracked by Laura.
“He still hasn’t awakened, but his wounds have been dressed.”
“As I can see. After you are refreshed please return to his suite as we’ve much to discuss. I’ll have Winston deliver a tea tray for us.”
“I should be no more than ten minutes. Can you make sure Cook includes some of her famous raspberry tarts?” Emma requested.
“I will, and if they’re fresh from the oven their fragrance might pierce through to my son’s mind and wake him,” Laura teased.
It took all of Emma’s willpower not to giggle at the duchess’s words about “pierce through her son’s mind”. If there was one thing which would and could awaken Simon, she knew exactly what it was as he’d hinted about it frequently, not to mention having done it twice before. However, she wasn’t about to inform Laura of her suggestion. And would only bring it up as a last resort.
Her other problem, considering how stubborn Simon could be, was that he’d probably insist on returning to his routine once he woke, which she wouldn’t allow. Emma believed she’d have the support of the man’s mother as well, to prevent him from doing anything foolish, like getting out of bed before he was healed.
Marching into her suite, she was met by Abby who was, for once, smiling. That fact alone was disarming to Emma as the woman rarely did, especially when she returned dirty or in this case with blood on her hands and dress.
“M’ lady, I’m happy to hear His Grace will recover. I’ve already taken the liberty of setting out your light-red day dress. There’s fresh, warm water in the pitcher in your private room so let’s get you out of that dress so you can get cleaned.”
As promised, ten minutes later Emma returned to the ducal suite to find the duchess pouring a second cup of tea for her. On the tray was a plate of tarts both blueberry and raspberry. She peered over to where Simon lay and was happy to see his color had improved a little.
“Please, have a seat,” Laura directed.
Doing as requested, she eyed the tarts. Finally giving in to temptation, she selected one of her favorites and took a delicate nibble of it before setting it on her saucer. Again she glanced to Simon then back to the duchess.
“Thank you. Has he stirred at all?”
“No. Which has me a little concerned, but Harold, who came in while Mrs. Lee was still here, isn’t worried. She was able to tell the man about the wound and what had been done to treat it. He agreed with her and returned to his cottage. Harold did say that, if needed, he’d return to help with changing the dressings.”
“And Edmond?” Emma asked.
“He’s still upset with himself, but I assured him everything was going to be fine which set his mind at ease. As you can see, he’s taken Simon’s clothes to clean and where necessary repair them. I do know the man, besides being an excellent valet, has a way with needle and thread. I wouldn’t be surprised if you can’t see where the bullet ripped through my son’s shirt,” the duchess told Emma.
There was still one question she wanted to ask Laura. What was the outcome of the meeting with the forester? Fortifying herself with another bite of tart and a sip of tea, which helped settle her, Emma peered over to the grand lady.
“I know what’s on your mind so I’ll tell you that we have a major problem. From what I learned from the two men who witnessed the attempt on Simon’s life, it’s not Justin Beaumont. Hopkins, the forester, and his assistant were able to get an excellent look at the man. They both, together and separately, told me the shooter had very dark brown hair, not red.”
Hearing this disturbing news, Emma slumped against the back of her chair, surprisingly not spilling her tea. She knew they had more to worry about now than before.
“How will we be able to protect Simon with two possible assassins hunting him? You know he won’t wish to sit still and let others do his job for him. As the duke, he’ll see it as his duty to find these men while keeping us ladies safe,” Emma said.
“Especially you, my dear, as you’re the one who does the much needed visits several times a week. Not to mention becoming his future duchess. We could lock him in his suite like I used to do when he was naughty, but we both know that’s not viable either,” the duchess joked.
“Agreed, but if my hearing isn’t failing me, a carriage is entering the forecourt which should be carrying the doctor. If he can convince Simon to remain bedridden, or at least not exert himself, then we might have a chance,” Emma suggested.
“That, my dear Emma, will never happen. Please greet our guests, and instruct the doctor, after he’s refreshed, to report here. Once he examines this bug bite of a wound, I’ll be up and about for dinner,” Simon called out.
Chapter Sixteen
Simon watched Emma sweep from his suite then focused his attention on his mother. Unfortunately, it went unheeded as she was talking with two footmen. He did catch a few words- “let him collapse, pick him up, tie him onto the bed”. He could feel his anger mount at her words but knew she meant every one of them.
Granted, he thought to himself, he may be the duke, but first and foremost he was not only a man but a former soldier who’d been injured in battle. Even then, he’d not been one to lie around while others did his job, being the company commanding officer. Simon waited until his mother had left to aid in greeting their guests then tossed off the covers, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and stood. That was the
last thing he remembered.
The next thing he knew he was back in bed covered up to his chest with the sheets. He tried to move his arms and legs but found them restrained by strips of bedding. Now he wasn’t only mad but totally furious, but at whom? His mother for ordering the footmen to tie him onto the bed or himself for being stupid enough to push himself faster than needed. If he was to guess it would be him.
Glaring at the two smirking footmen, he wanted to terminate them on the spot but realized that would be wrong since they were only following his mother’s directions. Feeling like a fox trapped by hounds, he tried to relax. In the corridor he heard Emma’s angelic voice as she made her way to his suite.
Where was his mother? That’s when he remembered the doctor’s wife was accompanying him. Knowing his mother, she’d probably waylaid the lady so her husband could examine him without her at his side.
He turned his head toward the door as he watched Emma glide in. The physical excitement of her in his presence, in his suite no less, was something he’d never felt before on seeing a young lady. Of course, being totally naked under the sheets didn’t hurt his reaction to gazing upon the red gown she wore. Not only did it hug and caress every curve of her delicate body, but it was the bodice and the way it emphasized her breasts that tormented him. Turning his attention from her to the grumpy, aged man beside her, he gave Doctor Sydney Stone a nod to acknowledge him.
“Good afternoon, Sydney. It’s been a long time since you’ve had to treat a wound on me,” Simon declared, in the hopes of getting the upper hand with him and Emma.
“And you also, Colonel. From where I’m standing it does my heart good to see someone has had the forethought to make sure you behave. If I remember correctly, the day after you were struck down by a French saber you insisted on returning to the fight.”
Simon tried to laugh, but when he did a shooting pain in his shoulder stopped him. He knew Sydney was correct in that it would take a strong-willed person to keep him bedridden, such as his mother or Emma. In this case it was the duchess which infuriated him to no end. If it had been Emma, he’d much have preferred to be abed with her.
“Yes, it would seem so. It’s duke now, but you’re already aware of that as you were attempting to keep me on the cot when I got the news. However, since on more than one occasion you saved my hide you’re forgiven.”
“My apologies, Your Grace. First, I’d like to take a look at your shoulder then examine the late duke if you don’t mind,” the doctor announced.
“He’s in the mausoleum along with two maids who were killed. If you don’t mind, take a look at them and tell me if their necks were snapped by someone left or right handed. That will help in identifying the murderer.”
“That won’t be a problem.”
While Sydney undid the bandage Simon did his best not to groan as he was sure Emma would take great pleasure seeing him in pain. Once the wound was re-covered he waited while the doctor glanced over to Emma, where she’d stayed out of the way.
“M’ lady, I understand you washed and dressed the injury. I commend you on doing a magnificent job. As it will take a few days before the healing fully starts, His Grace should remain in bed until I say differently. I know that will be easy for you, but not him.”
“If I promise to stay here, would you be so kind as to have the footmen release the bonds?”
“Agreed,” his mother said, who had silently slipped in and stood beside Emma.
Patiently, he waited for the sheets used to make sure he stayed where he was to be released, all the while glaring at the ladies. Once free, he attempted to sit up but found it difficult with only one arm. Frustrated he gave up and slumped back down on the pillow.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, Your Grace,” Sydney stated.
“Doctor, please have Winston assign several footmen to accompany you. I will explain the reason why later,” the duchess told him.
Wondering what the secrecy was about, Simon waited until his friend left, then pivoted his head to study Emma, more than his mother.
“Would you mind explaining why you requested guards for Sydney?” he demanded.
“First, if you don’t mind, I’ll order tea for Emma and myself while a whiskey for you,” Laura stated.
The fact his mother wished for him to have a drink, told Simon whatever they wanted to tell him was grave. He waited while she spoke to Winston and the man departed.
“Please, ladies, take seats as you both look like you’re about to collapse,” he directed to them.
“Thank you, as at least I do. It’s been a very stressful afternoon for me,” Emma declared.
He waited until they had done as requested before returning his focus to Emma. He could tell from the expression on her face she wanted to say something but didn’t know how to start. Simon was about to encourage her when Winston returned with the ordered beverages. With his whiskey in hand, Simon waited while she poured tea for his mother and herself. Unfortunately, no fruit tarts were sent along as he was getting hungry.
“Son, what do you remember about the shooting?” his mother asked.
“Not very much. I was starting to decide which of the trees should be felled first when I heard someone, mounted on a horse, yell at me. What it was, I can’t remember. Why?”
“Was it something like, and pardon my language, ‘Die son of a bastard making duke’?” his mother said.
“Yes. Why, and who told you?”
“While Emma with Mrs. Lee were treating your wounds I spoke with Hopkins and his assistant. They told me,” his mother continued.
“And they said he had red hair with ears which stuck far out from the side of his head,” Simon uttered.
“I wish I could say that was so, but it’s not. This shooter had brown hair, and according to them his ears appeared to be normal.”
Hearing this, Simon understood why the whiskey and took a deep swallow of it, which didn’t help dampen the anguish of having someone else wanting him dead. Now he understood why Emma wanted Sydney to have guards. Instead of one person, now he had two people to hunt down, but how could he since he’d promised to remain abed. What made it even more disappointing was that he would be alone and not with Emma curled up beside him.
“I know this might sound strange coming from me, but do either of you have a suggestion on how we now catch them?” Simon asked.
“I believe I might have an idea. I’ve been thinking about it ever since the footmen carried you back here. When I first saw you lying on the door I thought you were dead, so let’s make them believe that,” Emma said.
“The windows are draped with black curtains, and main doors already have mourning bunting on them from your father’s death. All we’d need to do is let it slip you were seriously shot by someone unknown and might not live. This way, when we catch them it will be easy for you to make your reappearance,” his mother explained.
“And with me being restricted to my bed, or at least my suite, I won’t be assisting with tenant visits or go into the village, it would make them think they’d succeeded.”
“If I can also add we have Mrs. Lee do the calls, if she’s willing. When asked, she can tell people I refuse to leave your sick bed. This will give the story more impact so when you’re strong enough I can return to my duties with you as a guard,” Emma stated.
“That would work, but as I’ve been to many of the farms the tenants will recognize me thus running the risk of it getting back to these people. Wait a minute, are you suggesting while hiding away here I don’t shave, and when we go out I wear some of my older clothes? That is, if you haven’t given them all away,” he teased.
“Of course not, and we are aware you had Edmond hunt some of them down. Don’t be mad at him, but we do have our sources,” his mother stated.
Simon thought back to the last time he’d gone several days without the comfort of shaving. It had been in Spain when his troop had been ordered to hunt down one of Napoleon’s generals. This particular monster h
ad been responsible for the slaughter of hundreds of British soldiers. They’d caught the man and made him pay dearly in a brutal battle lasting over several days. Thinking back to that fight, Simon lifted his head from the pillow and stared down at the long saber scar across his chest.
“As much as I don’t like the idea of growing a beard it will be the only way to hide my features, at least partially.”
A knock on the doorframe brought Simon to glance past the ladies, and he was happy to see Sydney had returned.
“Do come in and tell us what you found. All I ask is that you be delicate in describing what you discovered as Her Grace and Lady Emma will wish to hear also.”
“Your Grace, you don’t need to worry about that as what you wrote me regarding the late duke was correct. He was murdered, and I’ll write everything I discovered in a special report for you. Also, with your permission I wish to forward a copy to the magistrate at Bow Street. As for the maids, I’m guessing two different men killed them as the heads were pointing in opposite directions.”
This confirmed, with regard to his father’s death, what he’d learned several weeks ago when he returned. As for the maids, Simon knew Justin Beaumont was left handed as he’d learned that from Jason Brandon. Could the person who took a shot at him be right handed? For that, if his mother didn’t know he would have to speak with Hopkins at some point. Finishing off the last of his whiskey, he turned his attention back to the doctor.
“Yes, please inform the authorities of your findings. If you can write it up, then I will have several grooms take the copy to London,” he directed.
“I will, but that brings up a point from earlier. What was the reason for the footmen to act as guards, and why more than one groom to deliver the report?” Sydney asked.
Simon focused his attention to Emma and nodded she should explain.
“Doctor, we’ve learned that the individual who tried to kill Simon isn’t the one we thought but a different person. You and your wife are more than welcome to stroll about the grounds, but we ask you to have several footmen with you.”
The Duke's Bride (The Radcliffe Family Book 1) Page 14
