Page 52 of Wicked Highland Heroes

Chapter Nine

A shot rang out and Lord Halifax clutched his stomach. A moment of expectant silence passed. Then the earl dropped to his knees, blood seeping through his fingers. Pandemonium broke out and Erroll allowed the arm gripping the pistol to drop to his side. He crossed to Halifax, scooped up his pistol, then stood aside for the doctor, who followed two paces behind, along with half a dozen other men. Duncan knelt beside the earl and felt for a pulse at Halifax’s neck. He removed Halifax’s limp hand from his belly and unbuttoned his shirt to examine the wound.

“John, Angus, come on,” he called, then pushed to his knees. “You too, lads,” he addressed two others. “Carry him inside and put him on the table.” Duncan looked at Erroll. “He isna’ dead, but he may yet meet his maker.”

“You will keep me apprised,” Erroll said.

“You may not know for some time, but if he dies in the next few minutes…” Duncan shrugged.

“I will await your word.” Erroll turned and scanned the crowd for the owner of the Scottish pistol. He spotted him talking with another man and strode to his side. The man stopped talking when he arrived, Erroll handed the pistol to its owner, and said, “Thank you.”

The man nodded and Erroll joined the two Miss Crenshaws, who stood with Oscar and Somerset.

“Oh my lord,” Miss Grace Crenshaw said. “How gallant of you to protect Eve’s honor. That blackguard deserved to be shot. But I am immensely relieved you are unharmed.”

“You bloody fool,” the elder Crenshaw sister snapped. “Is he dead?”

Grace Crenshaw gasped. “Eve, do not talk to his lordship that way.”

Her sister cut her a scathing look. “He is not to be congratulated.” She looked at Erroll, “Well, sir?”

“I did not manage to kill him.”

“Have you lost your mind?” she seethed. “That was one of the stupidest things I have ever had the misfortune to see.”

“Would you rather I had let Halifax get away with rape?”

“You could have dragged him in front of a magistrate. Where is your good sense?”

“You mean ‘good sense’ like having a man kidnapped and forced to marry a sister?” Erroll remarked.

“That plan did not include a duel.”

“Lord Somerset might disagree—as would your dear Oscar. Both were ready to send me to my reward.”

She gave a deprecating snort. “Neither would have carried out their threats.”

“You are wrong. Oscar would have made a point of it.”

“Eve,” her sister cut in, “you have no right to be angry with his lordship. He was perfectly correct in dealing with Lord Halifax. Good heavens, what prompted him to kidnap you?”

“That would be Lord Rushton’s doing,” the elder sister retorted.

Erroll gave a slight bow. “Guilty as charged. Next time, I will stay out of Neville’s business.”

“That isn’t what I mean and you know it,” she retorted.

“Madam, I have not the slightest idea what you mean. But I am reminded that no good deed goes unpunished.”

“Rubbish,” she muttered. “But never mind, we should be on our way,”

“Not just yet. I must wait for the doctor’s report.”

Her mouth parted in surprise. “You said Lord Halifax wasn’t dead.”

“Not yet,” Erroll replied.

“My God,” she blurted. “Then we must be going. If he dies—”