A pistol roared. Running feet. Howls, and a fight somewhere close by.
Rossiter was very sick.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“I am indeed grateful,” declared Rossiter, cautiously lifting his arm as Tummet had requested. “But how you came to be there I cannot fathom. I had left you with strict instructions to take Miss Gwendolyn home.”
“Popped ’er into the coach, safe as a sturgeon, Guv,” said Tummet, leaning over the bed and easing off the torn wreckage of the coat. “Only I ’opped orf and ’ired meself a ’ack. Can you lift yer arm up a bit more?” Rossiter complying, he went on, “Now fer this ’ere what once called itself a shirt. I follered you, just in case you needed a ’and, like.”
“And I had the devil’s own work to come up with you,” said Lieutenant Morris, carrying a tray with decanter and glasses into the bedchamber and closing the door softly behind him.
Flinching from Tummet’s efforts, Rossiter swore, then said, “Well, I never was more in need of reinforcements. Had it not been for you two—”
“You’d a’ cocked up yer toes,” said Tummet. “Six to one ain’t fair odds, Guv. But I gotta say that fer a chap what’s nothing but skin and bone, you fights like a troop of cavalry! A ’ole perishing troop! Blind me if I ever see a gent laying about ’im wiv so much spirit! Makes me proud I took you on, which I can’t say no better! Lean forrard a bit, if y’can.”
Rossiter obliged. “In point of fact, they didn’t mean to kill me. The woman kept screeching that my face was not to be marked.”
“They may not have marked your face,” said Morris, frowning. “But they were less charitable with the rest of you.”
Glancing down at his lurid bruises, Rossiter told his valet to lock the door. “I’d not have Gwendolyn see this mess.”
“No need for that,” said Morris. “You may beà l’aise,my trampled Tulip. The lady is perfectly well, and at the moment engaged in applying a poultice to the jaw of your footman, who has the toothache. A remarkably kind little creature, an I dare remark it.”
“She’s one in a million,” agreed Rossiter. “But I wish I knew what the deuce she was about at Falcon House this morning.” He looked at Tummet steadily, and receiving only a smile of angelic innocence turned his attention to more immediate problems. “You’re sure no one saw me come in?”
“Have no fears,” said Morris handing him a glass of Madeira. “We were able to slip in the side door without causing any of the maids to faint. However, I think you shall have to disappoint Lady Naomi after all. Cannot go cavorting about tonight with your middle looking like—”
“Good God!” Sir Mark had entered the room unnoticed, and now stood pale and shocked as he scanned his battered son. For a moment he stared, saying nothing. Then he lifted his eyes to Gideon’s face. “When you said you’d been wounded, I never dreamed— Zounds! I marvel you lived, boy!”
Morris said cheerfully, “He damn near didn’t, sir.”
Gideon hastened to point out that he was “in good point now.”
“Ho yus you ain’t,” argued Tummet, and taking Sir Mark aside, said in a confidential manner, “I’ll fetch some ’ot compresses, sir. To bring them bruises out. You jest keep ’im where ’e is, and don’t let ’im go popping orf nowhere.” He gave the baronet an encouraging nod and went out.
Sir Mark looked after him, shook his head as if to clear it, then pulled up a chair and sat down. “What happened?”
“Somebody objects to my enquiries, it seems.” Gideon eased himself back against the pillows. “I was warned to keep my nose out of what doesn’t concern me.” He sampled the wine and began to feel slightly less fuzzy-headed. “Newby said that you both have been trying to come at the root of it all. Were you ever attacked, sir?”
“Never. But with you here, stirring things up again, mayhap my enemies are beginning to be alarmed.”
“Hmm. Or they may think I have learned something.”
Sir Mark demanded eagerly, “Have you?”
Gideon frowned, and said slowly, “Something—odd. This morning Tummet thinks he spotted one of the ruffians who ransacked Promontory Point.”
“The devil!” exclaimed Morris.
Sir Mark said, “Did he, by God? Where?”
“Going into Derrydene’s house in Soho.”
They both stared at him, speechless. Then, Sir Mark said, “Why in the name of all that’s holy should Louis Derrydene want to search Promontory Point? Besides, the man’s out of the country. I’ll tell you frankly, Gideon, I’d not place much credence in what that man of yours says. Wouldn’t trust the fellow as far as I could throw him! Did he see the ruffian’s face?”
“Only his back, sir. But he is quite sure ’twas the same man.”
“Fustian! Likely giving himself airs to be interesting. Whoever broke into the Point did so because they knew a great house was standing empty. And whatever Louis Derrydene may be about, I give you my word it ain’t the burglary business!”
