Erina flushed. Did Harry intend tooffer her marriage to save her reputation? He was certainlyhonorable enough to conceive of such a foolish notion. Filled withcuriosity and forced to be patient, she sat observing the doctor’sskilled hands.
She pulled aimlessly at her cuff whichwas spotted with blood. “He has to recover, DoctorO’Dowd.”
“Aah.” The doctor nodded.“Then I’ll take particular care, lass.”
Moments later, the ball dropped intothe dish with a metallic clink. Thankfully, Harry remainedunconscious throughout the procedure.
“This wound is bleeding abit too much for my liking,” Doctor O’Dowd said. “I’d best put in afew stitches. Then we pray that he’ll mend.”
Anxiously, she examined Harry’s paleface, one she’d come to like so much. She was so very grateful tohim too… but….
Chapter Fourteen
It was a cool, blustery day whichthreatened rain for Butterstone’s funeral. Jack chose not toattend. In the street, hat in hand, his father’s passing still rawand fresh, he watched the marquess’ cortège reach St. Paul’sCathedral, the horses decorated with black plumes and the hearsewreathed in white lilies. Ashley alighted from a carriage wearing ahigh necked black cloak over her gown. A circlet of black silkflowers graced her elegant hat. Escorted by Caindale, his hand onher mother’s arm, they disappeared inside.
Jack turned and walked home. Grantattended the service in his place. His cousin had taken up themantle of duke with cool competence as Jack knew he would. He hadrefused residence to the duchess’ sister, a widow who hadsquandered her fortune at the gaming tables. After advising his manof business to arrange a stipend for her, she was told to neverdarken his door again.
Jack’s father’s other wishes wereefficiently carried out. The rest of the duchess’ profligaterelatives, not one of whom had revealed an ounce of affection forthe duke or indeed Jack, were shown the door after the reading ofthe will.
As much as Jack wanted to see Ashley,he resisted. She should be left to mourn her father, and he hadnothing of importance yet to tell her. He wasn’t about to burdenher with his doubts concerning her uncle. The only comfort he couldprovide would be to take her in his arms, something he wishedfervently to do. No matter how wealthy he might be now, Londonsociety’s strictures stood like a wall between a highborn lady inmourning and a duke’s bastard son. And he was loath to fuel thenewssheets with spiteful gossip about her.
Jack sent a letter-of-condolence toher mother. In his note to Ashley he’d resisted putting into wordshow much he missed her. Instead, he told her about the house hisfather had bequeathed him. He had no wish to interview butlers andhousekeepers or select a steward, not to mention the rest of thestaff necessary to run a house in Mayfair plus the country house heplanned to buy. He thought he might ask Stinson, his father’sman-of-business to attend to it. Come to think of it, his batman,Jenkins, from his army days might consent to become his steward.The perfect fellow to take care of his properties, should heagree.
In search of a hackney, Jack continuedalong Ludgate Street. When a town coach drew up beside him, hehalf-expected to see Caindale again, but of course, Caindale was atthe funeral. Instead, a stranger invited him inside with a gesturefrom his pistol.
Every muscle on alert, Jack consideredhis options. From within the coach, the fellow’s range was limited.He braced, ready to make a quick dodge to one side after a glancerevealed the usually busy road bare of traffic.
“It would be wise for youto join me, Captain Ryder.” The fellow’s pistol was aimed at Jack’schest.
Jack gave up the idea of escape whenhis curiosity got the better of him. He climbed into the carriageto be greeted by a blast of expensive pomade and sat on the squabopposite the curly-haired gentleman. “You needn’t go to suchlengths to get my attention,” he said glowering at the man. “Imight have come if you’d asked politely. Who are you anyway, andwhat do you want?”
“Have patience, Captain.All will be revealed soon.”
Jack adopted a relaxed pose and waitedfor an opportunity to distract the fellow and take his gun. Hestraightened his cuffs. “I certainly hope so. I find dramatics suchas this quite a bore.”
~~~
Harry slept for some hours while Erinasat in a padded chair and tried to read an article in a periodicalabout the Irish uprising in ‘98. The words kept skittering awaywhile her eyes returned to the bed. She’d just finished the lastcup of tea in the pot when he opened his eyes.
“I’m still alive?” he askedblearily. He tried to raise his head and fell back with a softmoan.
With an anxious intake of breath, sherose, and came to smooth his covers. “Lie still. The doctor saysyou’ve had a lucky escape. He removed the ball cleanly and didn’tthink there was much damage done.”
“That’s all very well forhim to say.” He grimaced with pain. “Have they arrested thatfellow, Gormley, yet?”
She shook her head. “The guard arestill searching for him.”
“Dash it, I should havereacted faster, got that gun away from him. Is Cathleensafe?”
“She’s here at the hotel,but she’s unhappy. I don’t believe she wishes to come toEngland.”
“I thought as much. Itwould be daunting to leave her home and the village she grew upin.”
Erina tried to tamp down herexasperation. Harry made perfect sense even when half comatose.“But how can Cathleen remain in Ireland with that mad man lurkingabout? He tried to kill her.”
“He’ll be arrested beforelong. She’s safe at the hotel. Tell her to stayindoors.”
“She’s gone to inquire ofthe guard if there’s news of Gormley.”
