“Lord Blackmore.”
At Amelia’s surprised greeting, she snapped her eyes open to find Marcus dressed, his left arm in a sling and the skin around his eyes already turning blue from his beating. Relief made her eyes itch with tears. Blinking them back, she rose. “I thought I told you to rest.”
He shook his head. “How can I rest when my friend fights for his life? I bathed as you requested, but I was with Anthony until your sister told me I was in her way. If I can’t be by his side, then I wish to be with you. You are more comfort than a lonely room.”
She felt the heat rise in her cheeks. “Then please sit.”
He gave her a soft smile and took the other side of the settee. It was hardly proper, but right now she didn’t care, and she sank down beside him.
“Has my mother come down?”
“No.” She gestured upward with her head. “I did send a message up to her maid, so when she woke, she’d know you were safe.”
“She must think the worst of me for leaving you at the church.”
She’d removed her gloves earlier and had them discarded since they were covered in blood. Still, she laid her hand on his. “When I saw her, she gave me a strange look as if I were cursed.”
“No, she believes our family is cursed after all that has happened.”
Her heart squeezed. She could understand why. “Then she will be very happy that you are well, and we will marry on the morrow.” She moved her hand back toward her lap, but he captured it.
She glanced at her sister and mother. Her mother smiled kindly and her sister smirked. Relieved they wouldn’t say anything, she gave his hand a squeeze.
He turned a worried gaze toward her family. “Do you think I should send for a physician?”
“No.”
“No.”
“No.”
His brows raised, though his eyes did not widen, the swelling quite considerable, as she, her mother, and Amelia negated his suggestion one after the other.
Taking pity on him, her mother explained. “Joanna will care for your friend better than any physician.”
Amelia chimed in. “Yes. She knows more about medicine than they do. Mr. Taylour is being well cared for.”
“Then I must invite you all to spend the night. It is the least I can do for all that you have done.” He looked to Amelia and then herself. “And I believe I need to replace three gowns.”
Lord Sommerset shook his head. “My wife has plenty. No need, but we will accept your invitation.”
Her mother poured another cup of tea. “As will we.”
For the first time, her father who had been quiet, but avidly listening spoke up. “Lord Blackmore. Who was that man and why did he wish you harm? Was he the man you mentioned to myself and Joanna?”
Marcus looked at her and then addressed them all. “He was. He committed crimes under the guise of war, and I planned to have charges brought against him. But our regiment was attacked before I could meet with my commanding officer. I was shot, and he and four other men left me for dead as you know. Three of them died in the war, and one died shortly after coming home to England. The man that attacked me is the last one.”
Her father finally sat back. “Then I can assume my daughter will no longer be in danger?”
Marcus let go of her hand and pressed his fist to his chest. “You have my oath that I will never allow anyone to harm her.”
Her eyes misted at both her father’s concern and Marcus’ pledge.
Footsteps on the stairs beyond the room drew everyone’s attention. Joanna and the duke strode into the parlor. Joanna looked victorious but the duke looked concerned.
“He’s going to live.” Joanna smiled, obviously pleased.
“She thinks. We can’t be absolutely sure.”
