“Don’t be a—” At the new voice, Jem swung to the right.
Marshall! Thank God, Gideon thought.
“Put it down, Jem. My pistol is faster than you can move.” The sound of a hammer pulled back accompanied the threat.
Jem hesitated. “You owe me, Marshall,” he said.
“Put it down,” Marshall said, emerging from the gloom. “You back off, too, Carter. Move over by Hawkins.”
“I kin snap his neck with one hand,” Carter growled.
Before Carter could move, Gideon summoned all his strength and jammed his knuckles into Carter’s throat, followed quickly by a finger poke to his eyes. The big man went down choking.
“Put the knife down, or I’ll shoot you where you stand, Jem,” Marshall said.
Jem dropped the knife. “Let me go, or I’ll tell the world your secret, Marshall. What good is a land steward who can’t read?” he spat, taking a step sideways.
“Move again and you’re a dead man,” Marshall said.
“Too late with that threat, Hawkins. We know about Marshall. It doesn’t stop him from doing his job well. He just needs to choose his assistants more carefully,” Gideon said, breath heaving.
“Now help this buffoon to his feet and into that shed behind you,” Marshall said. “Now! It would give me great pleasure to shoot you for what you’ve done.”
Marshall herded them into the shed and barred the door with a piece of wood. “This won’t hold too long. We need to set a guard until morning when we can move them up to the house.”
Gideon had dropped to his knees next to Hector, his left arm hanging uselessly at his side. “He’s still breathing. Leave me that pistol. I’ll keep watch over them and this good-hearted animal. Take Hannibal and come back with Harv and Bert and a wagon to carry Hector.”
“That arm needs looked at. They’ll keep for a few hours.”
Gideon shook his head. “I’m not leaving this dog. It may break Mia’s heart if he doesn’t make it.” He glanced up and took the weapon from Marshall. “Thank you for following me. That was close.”
“I told you you weren’t going alone, you daft man,” Marshall said. He left with both horses and a whistle.
*
Weeping over belovedfur-bearing friends and foolish husbands served no one well. Mia managed to avoid it. Just. How could she lash out at Gideon when he’d lain, racked with pain, at Hector’s side for over an hour until help arrived? Nor could she succumb to the tears that threatened at his agony when Dr. Gratis, who turned out to be a better bonesetter than physician, stabilized the arm. She almost lapsed into weeping when she tore herself from his bedside to check on Hector and found Helen lying at the great beast’s side, whispering encouragement in his ears.
“What are you doing up in the middle of the night?” Mia asked.
“I couldn’t sleep thinking about what happened to Daniel. Then I heard noise and came down. I peeked and, and… How is Papa?” The girl choked back tears.
“In pain but well. His arm is broken, but it has been set and should heal with no trouble,” Mia assured her with a hug. “How is our Hector?”
At his name, the massive head rose, and Mia bent to pet it. He settled back down.
“Mr. Marshall removed the bullet and saw to the wound. He said Hector should recover if we can keep him from running around. That’s a job I can do,” Helen said.
“Thank you,” Mia whispered. “You were doing very well when I came in.”
“See to Papa, Mia. I can care for Hector,” Helen said.
The use of her diminutive name touched Mia deeply. She kissed the girl’s cheek, glanced at Marshall hovering nearby, and left her to it.
A sleepless night didn’t prepare any of them for the day to come, but Mia’s uncle arrived midmorning, summoned by Marshall, and there was no avoiding it. Uncle Ludlow and Marshall came up to the Kendrick sitting room, and the men discussed how they might proceed.
Gideon insisted on being present, regardless of his pain. Helen had been summoned from the stables, and the children’s governess made sure all three were groomed and waiting in the breakfast room in case the viscount had questions for them. Mia prayed they wouldn’t be summoned.
The green room, largest of the drawing rooms, had been rearranged and filled with more people than Mia expected when she entered to find her uncle, dignified and serene, at one end of the room, in a large chair. She helped Gideon to a comfortable chair near the front and propped pillows around his splinted arm before approaching her uncle. The viscount took her hand and kissed it. “Bad doings, niece,” he said.
