Harred ran a hand through his hair. “I am most grateful for that, especially since you saved my life.”
“It was nothing,” Fredrick said, brushing off his praise. “I am glad that I saw the sniper before it was too late.”
The coach hit a rut in the road and Fredrick let out a groan. Octavia wished there was something she could do that would help her brother, but she was at a loss as to what shecould do. She felt helpless, and she did not like that feeling very much.
Fredrick brought his hand up to his shoulder and left it there. “Do you think Lord William would have hired a sniper to kill you?”
“I don’t rightly know,” Harred replied. “Greydon seems to believe that Lord Drycott could be behind these attempts on my life. To me, both seem unlikely.”
“Someone is obviously trying to kill you,” Fredrick said. “We just have to figure out who is behind these attacks.”
“How do you propose we do that?” Harred asked. “I tried to talk to William about it but he just dismissed my concerns.”
“That is because you asked him. I promise that he wouldn’t be dismissive with me,” Fredrick said.
Harred pinched his brows together. “You don’t mean to interrogate him, do you?”
Fredrick brought his hand back down to his lap. “Someone just shot me. I intend to get answers and I won’t rest until I do.”
“That didn’t answer my question,” Harred said.
“I know, but that is because you don’t need to know,” Fredrick stated. “The time to ask politely is over.”
Octavia could hear the terseness in her brother’s voice and it worried her. When he became determined, nothing would stand in his way.
As she went to voice her concern, her brother said, “Not now, Octavia. I do not have time for a lecture.”
“I am not going to lecture you,” Octavia stated.
“Aren’t you?” he asked. “Because I see the look in your eyes. You think you know what is best for me.”
Octavia stared at her brother in exasperation. “Why are you being so vexing?” she asked. “I am trying to help you.”
“I do not need your definition of help,” Fredrick said.
The coach came to a stop in front of their townhouse andthe coach dipped to the side as the footman stepped off his perch.
Once the door was opened, Fredrick stepped down and offered his hand back to assist Octavia out of the coach.
Octavia looked at her brother’s proffered hand and asked, “Will I hurt you if I take your hand?”
“I am fine, Octavia,” Fredrick sighed, wiggling his fingers. “Just take my hand.”
Tentatively, she slipped her hand into his and allowed him to assist her in exiting the coach. She removed her hand as soon as she stood next to him.
Harred came to stand next to her and asked, “May I escort you inside?”
“Don’t you think you have done enough?” Fredrick growled.
Octavia shot her brother a stern look. “That was entirely uncalled for,” she chided, coming to Harred’s defense. “We will excuse your outburst since you are obviously in pain.”
“No, Fredrick is right,” Harred said. “I was the reason why he was shot and it is best if I stay away, at least for the time being.”
“I do not accept that,” Octavia argued.
Fredrick placed his hand on her elbow. “We should get inside before we garner any attention,” he ordered. “Our coach will take you home, Harred. Good day.”
“Fredrick—” Octavia started.
