“They shall not win,” Theo whispered to Nathanial’s still, waxy face. His hair was damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead, and she brushed it back. “You shall live.”
He made no sound but the breaths that whispered from between his lips.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The next day brought no change. In the afternoon, a full day after he was brought to her, she felt she might leave him to spend some time in company.
This desire was motivated by two reasons. The first was that she wished to thank Lord Stapleton, who had been assiduous in his attentions, offering her every comfort, even if she wished he would not.
The second was that she intended to find out precisely what had happened on the hunt with Nate. After his accident, the shooting party was being cut short; only Theo and Nathanial had been invited to stay. If she was going to find out anything, it would be that day.
Most of the party were in the drawing room when she descended. There was a cheerful game of loo at one end of the room, presided over by Lord Stapleton, and at the other end of the room, reclining gracefully before a roaring fire, was Lady Stapleton.
A sweep of the room convinced Theo she would do better avoiding the game, which afforded her no opportunity to speakwith anyone in private, and so she advanced towards Lady Stapleton, who held up a bejewelled hand in greeting.
“Duchess,” she said with her typical languor. “Pray sit with us. Tell us how the Duke is faring.”
Theo took the chair Lady Stapleton had indicated, which just so happened to be beside Lord Brockenhurst, a pale man of indeterminable age. His hair was greying but his thin face was relatively unlined, and bronzed from days out in the sun.
Hunting, no doubt.
“The Duke’s condition is unchanged,” Theo said, “which I have to hope is good news.”
“Indeed it is,” Lord Brockenhurst said. “There can be no doubt. The age-old adage of no news is good news is true in this case.”
She gave him a grateful smile. “I believe so.”
“And allow me, Your Grace, to tell you how very sorry I am this came about in the first place. Shocking business!”
“Shockingindeed,” Lady Stapleton said, not to be outdone. “And to think it happened here of all places.” She could not have said more clearly that she wished Theo and her troublesome, injured husband would leave, and Theo had to bite her tongue before she said something uncharitable.
“It was an unfortunate accident,” she said, looking carefully into Lord Brockenhurst’s face. He had been present at the shooting yesterday, and it seemed to her as though a flicker of discomfort crossed his face. “But it is a comfort to me—and to Nathanial when he wakes—that he has so many good friends.”
Although she aimed this barb at Lady Stapleton, it was Lord Brockenhurst who flushed. “Exceedingly good fellow.” Apparently embarrassed by the strength of his feeling, he coughed. “Wouldn’t have wanted it to happen to anyone.”
“Especially in such a way,” Theo said. “The bullet has been removed, but he is not out of danger yet.”
“Suspicious dealings,” Lord Brockenhurst said, then started. “Beg your pardon, Your Grace—forgot the company.”
“Suspicious in what way?” Theo asked innocently.
“Shouldn’t have said anything,” he said, eyes widening like a trapped rabbit. “Don’t heed me, Your Grace.”
She tried to calm her pounding heart, though she was dizzyingly aware of the strength of her pulse in her neck and felt certain everyone around could hear it too. “Are you trying to say that hitting N—the Duke was not an accident?”
“Couldn’t have been an accident,” he said apologetically. “He was off to the right, see. And strikes me no one was aiming that way. Birds were all ahead.”
“If no one hit the Duke by accident, it must have been on purpose,” Lady Stapleton said with sudden zeal. She sat up, languidness forgotten. “You were present, Lord Brockenhurst. Who do you think it could have been?”
The unfortunate Viscount shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Can’t say, my lady. That is to say, I don’t know. It wasn’t Lord Stapleton, though, I’m sure of that,” he added earnestly. “He was beside the Duke the entire time and I was at an angle to see . . . there was no chance, Lady Stapleton.”
“Well.” She pinched her lips. “I’m sure I must be grateful.”
“If you were at an angle to see it couldn’t have been Lord Stapleton,” Theo pressed, “could you see where the shot did come from?”
He shook his head emphatically. “If you want to know, speak to the beaters. Might be they saw something, or . . .” He tugged at his cravat uncomfortably. “Hesitate to suggest any gentleman here would wish your husband ill, Duchess.”
“Of course not,” Theo murmured, forcing her hands to unclench from around her skirts. If no one in the househadaimed at Nathanial, that had meant the shot, and the danger, had come from elsewhere. A servant, perhaps, paid off? A localman armed with a gun and instructed to secretly enter the estate?
