“I gained a littleknowledge about treating gunshot wounds in the army,” Jack said. “Imight be able to help.”
Peck rubbed his balding pate. “Thenplease do, sir. Lady Butterstone is close to hysterics.”
“Send the other guests backto their rooms. Fetch me clean cloths and warm water. Whiskeytoo.”
Jack approached the sofa where ayoung, fair-haired woman stood watching the sad tableau, her eyesstricken. The daughter. Jack smiled gently at her. “Let’s see whatcan be done, Lady Ashley. If you could take your mother away for amoment. Give her a little brandy, or a strong, sweet cup of tea.Mr. Peck will see to it.”
She nodded, murmured something in hermother’s ear. With an anguished glance at Jack, Lady Butterstoneallowed her daughter to lead her away.
On his knees, Jack moved aside LordButterstone’s fine wool coat and pulled up the linen shirt. Theball had entered one side of his chest where frothy blood gave clueto a lung wound.
When Peck brought the whiskey, napkinsand water, Jack wiped away as much of the blood as he could,knowing it was useless. He packed the linen against the wound. Whenhe settled a pillow beneath the gentleman’s head he saw the victimwas conscious.
“I’m dying.” A grim smileappeared in his lordship’s gray eyes. “Too late to set things torights.”
“Jack Ryder, sir. Thedoctor is on his way. Is there something I can do?”
Lord Butterstone coughed and a trickleof blood touched his lips. With a weak hand, he motioned Jackcloser. “Stamford’s son? Knew the duke. A good man.”
“Yes, he was.”
Lord Butterstone moaned. “Don’t havelong. I must ask your help.”
“Anything.” Jack waited asthe man fought to gain his breath. Did he require apriest?
“No highwayman… shot Bert,my groom, dead. A good servant. Can you see my wife and daughtersafely home… stay with them until Lady Butterworth’s brotherarrives?”
“Don’t worry, my lord. Iwill ensure their safety as long as is necessary. Who attackedyou?”
“A long story…” He tried toraise his head. “… and no time to tell it.” He licked the blood onhis lips.
Jack realized that his lordship waslosing his fight and gestured to where Lady Butterworth sat with ateacup in her hand.
She hurried over, knelt beside herhusband, and held his hand. “My love.”
“Forgive me, Mary, I’vebeen a fool…” His head rolled back.
Lady Butterstone gasped and collapsedonto the floor in a dead faint.
“Mama!” Lady Ashley triedto assist her mother. When she couldn’t rouse her, she looked atJack with an appeal in her eyes.
Jack grasped Lady Ashley’s shouldersand gently moved her aside. He hefted the unconscious woman up andcarried her to an upholstered chair. The lady leaned back againstthe padded cushion, her face a ghastly white.
He’d seen a lot of death during thewar, but watching these women was especially difficult. He hatedfeeling helpless. “I wish I could have done more.”
Lady Ashley patted her mother’s hand.Her tear-filled blue eyes searched his. “There was never anythinganyone could do.”
She was shocked but did not seemsurprised. He wondered if she referred to something other than theattack.
“Your father asked me toescort you and your mother home. But might it be better to remainuntil daylight? I’m sure Peck can find you a room.”
She straightened her shoulders as iftrying to find some inner reserve. “I need to get Mama home. Butyou must be tired, Captain Ryder. We will have roused you from yourbed.”
“I spent a few years in thearmy. I’m used to going without sleep.”
When she nodded, a pale gold ringletstirred against her cheek. She looked exhausted. Violet shadows laybeneath her eyes, and faint worry lines creased her brow. “But welive twenty miles from here. Will it take you too far out of yourway?”
“I’m not in a hurry. Yourfather asked me to remain with you until your uncle arrives. I’mhappy to oblige if your mother wishes it.”
