In two great strides, he grabbed her by the shoulders and roared into her face.
Then froze. Had her man heard? The one with the gun?
He released her and sprinted ahead, desperate for a hidey-hole. A cave. A yawning maw of earth to fall into and cover himself.
And there. A huge rock. He dashed over a log and crouched next to it, curling into a shape that would fit inside Mother Earth’s womb. He could be a rock too. The gunman would never notice.
“There you are.”
Only his eyes moved. Sideways. Upwards. Sweat crept down his back along the same path the scuttle bugs used.
The white-bristled hedgehog breathed hard, his little chest rising and falling fast. Once again, his pale, naked paw stretched out. “Come along, my friend. It is time to end this pain of yours.”
Yes! Yes! The roly-poly mammal was right.
It was time.
TWENTY-NINE
“Prepare! Your toils only begin….”
So much could be expressed in the grip of a hand. Protection. Compassion. And dare she hope…love? Amelia’s cheeks heated as Graham’s fingers tenderly wrapped around hers while he guided her down from the carriage. Or was that warm feeling caused by the intimate way he looked at her—and had been all the way on the ride over from his office? A gaze that cherished, treasured, valued.
Her.
Heart fluttering, she clung onto his strength. Oh, how she needed that right now. Needed him. The past days of Colin’s fits and frenzies had worn her thin, especially the paroxysm he’d suffered this afternoon.
As soon as her feet hit the cobbles, Graham pulled her close. “Take heart. Now that we are here, I will do all I can for your brother. I won’t be a minute while I pay the driver.”
He pulled away and she felt the loss. Of all the inopportune times to fall for a man!
Turning from him, she glanced up at Balfour House and inhaled deeply to steady her nerves. What would she find when next she stepped into her brother’s room? A wild man thrashing about on the mattress? Or one of the fleeting seconds when lucidity surfaced and Colin looked out of those tortured eyes of his? She sighed. With night shadows advancing, would that he might have already surrendered to sleep.
From the corner of her eye, she spied Graham patting his pockets. Should he not have already passed the jarvey a coin?
Frowning, she faced him. “Is there a problem?”
“Indeed.” His mouth quirked into a sheepish grin. “I’m afraid I used my last coins at my previous house visit, and I’ve not been home to retrieve more.”
Amelia lifted her chin towards the driver. “Please, wait here. I’ll send out your payment and a little extra with a servant.”
The fellow—as long in the tooth as the old mare hitched to his coach—tipped his hat. “Thank ye, miss.”
Clutching his medical bag in one hand, Graham offered her his arm. “Well, that was embarrassing,” he muttered under his breath. “I should have thought to—”
“Oh, miss!” Grey skirts flew out the front door.
Amelia’s breath hitched. Betsey neverflewanywhere.
Her maid stopped in front of them, lips pinched into a tight line as she spoke. “I don’t blame you a bit should you give me the rough side of your tongue when you hear what I’ve done. I never should have let him go, and I know it. Whatever got into me? Oh, that man!”
“Betsey, please, get hold of yourself.” Amelia pressed her fingers into the woman’s arm, hoping to slow her words, not to mention her own racing pulse. She’d never seen Betsey in such a flutter. “What man? What has happened?”
“Mr. Peckwood called, claiming he must escort Mr. Balfour to a follow-up visit at his office. But that don’t ring true.” Shaking her head, she peered up at Mr. Lambert. “You already make daily visits.”
“Blast!” Graham’s harsh bark prickled down Amelia’s spine. So did the murderous shade of red climbing up his neck.
He stalked to the carriage.
