“I am fine. I landed on Mayfield’s soft belly.” He was feeling a bit dizzy and his arm burned whenever he tried to move it, but he was never going to admit this to Gory. “What matters most is that you are safe.”
Her eyes were as big as the moon in full glow as she studied him.
He cast her a sloppy grin.
She picked up his sling and lovingly formed a cradle in which to place his injured arm. “Do not dare tell me you are fine,” she gently chided. “You are breathing hard and you wince every time I put a hand on you.”
“What matters is that you are fine.”
She nodded. “Not a scratch on me.”
They said nothing more as they watched Havers, his constables, and the Bow Street runners haul the assailants into a prison wagon. Many in the crowd followed these men out while others still buzzed around him and Gory.
Everyone was eager to know what had just happened.
Octavian and Leo held back anyone who got too close.
The vicar, quite shaken himself, ordered those who remained to take their seats. He commenced the funeral service ten minutes later.
Julius took hold of Gory’s hand as they took seats in the front pew, and kept hold throughout the sermon. His thoughts strayed as the vicar droned on about the earl and the nobility of his life, which was an utter joke. The man was a miserable wretch and had mostly ignored Gory all these years. Perhaps the widow he had taken up with shortly before his death might have made a better man of him, but who was ever to know?
The woman was discreetly seated in one of the rear pews and was perhaps the only person in the church who genuinely grieved his passing.
And what of the Mayfields?
How stupid of him not suspect all of them had been involved, including the elder Mayfield’s son whose life was now ruined because his oily father and uncle had involved him in their crimes.
Julius would not be surprised if it turned out this youngest Mayfield had been the assailant who hopped over Lord Greene’s wall and then made his narrow escape by riding off on horseback the other day.
Because of their greed, they were all going to spend the rest of their lives imprisoned.
Gory emitted a soft breath when the sermon finally came to a close. “My uncle must be enjoying this send off. He always wanted to be the talk of the ton.”
Julius nodded. “He’ll have all of London talking about him for years.”
“Julius,” she said, walking out of the church with him once the vicar’s sermon was over.
“What, my love?” He helped her into their carriage and settled beside her with a grunt. They were next to head to the graveyard for her uncle’s interment.
Then home.
This is all he wanted to do, take Gory home and start making plans for their life together. Their happiness.
“Julius,” she repeated, casting him a loving smile, “I think I am ready for our honeymoon.”
CHAPTER 17
JULIUS WAS RELIEVED when Dr. Farthingale arrived early in the evening to take out Gory’s stitches and then examine him. She went first and returned downstairs to their merry band of friends and family about ten minutes later. “Your turn, Julius,” she said with surprising cheer, taking the chair beside Lady Dayne that he had just vacated, and then proceeding to show them all the fine job the doctor had done healing that nasty gash behind her ear.
Julius stalked upstairs to their bedchamber, knowing he was going to receive a lecture from the doctor about his rash behavior today.
But was not saving Gory’s life worth any harm to himself?
Dr. Farthingale chuckled lightly as he strode in. “Your wife tells me you engaged in circus acrobatics at the funeral service this morning. Let me have a look at the damage you’ve done to yourself.”
“No damage, I am fine.” But he winced as he removed his shirt, unable to ignore the jolts of pain still stubbornly searing through his arms.
Bloody blazes.
