“Milord—” he began.
“Hot water and bandages in my chamber, Hopkins! As quickly as possible!” interrupted Branford as he hurried to the main staircase stairs and started up the steps, taking them two at a time.
On reaching the next floor, the earl turned down a short corridor and after opening an age-dark oak door, he crossed over a thick carpet and gently her down on atop the mattress of an immense four poster bed.
As he turned to light a branch of candles, Alex once again tried to make sense of where she was. “M-Milord, w-where have you taken me?”
“To my townhouse, Miss Chilton. I can hardly deposit you on your aunt’s doorstep until I have ascertained the extent of your injury.”
Alex attempted to sit up. “You needn’t …”
His fingers were already at the neck of her gown. She shivered slightly as he undid the top buttons and gently slid the material down to bare her shoulder.
A discreet knock sounded on the door.
“Enter, Hopkins,” responded Branford.
The butler came in with a basin and a length of linen on a tray. The earl motioned toward a small table by the bed.
“You may put it there. I shan’t need you anymore tonight.”
If the man was surprised at finding a young lady with a bullet wound in his master’s bedchamber in the middle of the night, he betrayed no sign of it, noted Alex. He merely bowed slightly.
“Good night, milord,” he replied and discreetly took his leave.
Turning back to Alex, Branford moistened a soft cloth and carefully sponged at the gash in her shoulder.
The gentleness of his touch took her by surprise.
“You’re very lucky, Miss Chilton,” he murmured as he tore a long strip from the length of linen. “The wound isn’t deep and if you take care, there should be no need to consult a physician.”
“I am quite knowledgeable about herbs, sir, and know how to make a salve to aid healing.” She looked away. “T-Thank you for your assistance, but I assure you that there is no need for concern.”
He finished bandaging her shoulder in silence. Then he shifted on the bed, forcing her to face him.
“No need for concern,” repeated Branford in a low voice. He leaned in closer—Alex almost feel the heat from his blazing eyes. “Then perhaps you can explain to me how a supposedly rational individual could act in such an addlepated, cork-brained manner.” His jaw clenched for a moment. “Are you truly daft, Miss Chilton? Or merely as foolish as the worst of your sex are wont to be?”
Alex was taken aback by the note of raw emotion in his voice.
“I-I received a note concerning Justin. I was following the instructions …” She faltered, realizing how lame it sounded, even to her own ears.
“I see,” he interjected. “Is it your habit to blindly follow even the most patently absurd directions in the arrogant assumption that you can handle any situation that arises?” He grimaced. “I hadn’t thought you that bloody stupid.”
Alex knew he was right to point out the obvious risk, but that only made her feel more defensive. “What would you have me do?” she asked. “Stand by and see my brother murdered?”
“He is no longer a child, Alex. You should have informed him and allowed him to decide how to deal with the threat.”
In the heat of the argument neither of them seemed to notice his use of her given name.
“Oh, you think me a managing female?” she demanded. “How dare you, sir! You know nothing?—”
To explain the complexities of her family’s relationships seemed hopelessly hard in the heat of the moment.
“Justin refuses to acknowledge that there is any danger. He thinks that I’m imagining it!” Alex let out a huff of frustration. “Well, do you think tonight is a bad dream?”
“Indeed I do,” he muttered through clenched teeth. In a louder voice he added, “Instead of haring off yourself, you might have come to me.”
She drew in a shaky breath. For some inexplicable reason, an image of Lady Cameron floated across her mind.Blond. Beautiful. Beckoning.“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said curtly. “What possible reason have you to care about me and my family?”
