Disgrace and Desire(26)

Sir Ronald bared his teeth.

‘Oh, I am well aware of that, Major. I rely upon Lady Allyngham to dissuade you from doing anything foolish.’ He turned to Eloise. ‘Consider my offer, madam. It is all that stands between you and disaster.’ Then, with an airy salute of his cane, he walked down the steps and strolled away, walking past Alex’s body without even a glance.





Chapter Ten


As if released from a spell, Eloise ran down the steps and fell to her knees beside Alex.

‘He breathes,’ she muttered thankfully.

Jack gently turned him on to his back and Eloise bit back a cry. One leg of his buff-coloured pantaloons was black and wet with blood and another dark stain was spreading over the left shoulder of his coat

‘The first thing we must do is to stop the bleeding from his thigh,’ said Jack, pulling off his neckcloth and wrapping it tightly around the wound. Alex groaned.

‘Keep still,’ muttered Eloise, her fingers scrabbling at his throat. ‘I am going to use your cravat to staunch the blood from your shoulder wound.’

‘Damned villain. If only you had let me bring a pistol—’

Eloise choked back a sob.

‘I know, Alex, I am very sorry. It is all my fault—’

‘Recriminations can come later,’ Jack interrupted her. ‘We must get you back to the house, Mortimer. If I help you to stand, do you think you can walk?’

Alex closed his eyes, his brow contracting.

‘I do not know…’

‘Well, we must try. I do not want to send to the house for assistance. The less people who know of this escapade the better.’

‘I can help,’ said Eloise. She blushed, knowing that Jack’s eyes were upon her and added fiercely, ‘I can. I carried you over the heath, and Alex is much slighter.’

‘I am also conscious,’ muttered Alex as Jack helped him to his feet. ‘If you let me put my weight on you, Clifton, I think we can manage.’

With Alex’s arm about his shoulders, Jack set off for the house, half-carrying, half-dragging the wounded man. Eloise walked along beside them, keeping the pad firmly pressed over the injured shoulder. It was clumsy and uncomfortable and her heart went out to Alex as he gritted his teeth to prevent himself crying out in pain.

‘Hold on, my dear Alex,’ she muttered, her voice breaking, ‘hold on and we will soon have you safe.’





Jack heard the affection in her voice and blotted out any angry thoughts as he struggled back towards the house with his burden. He must think of Mortimer as a wounded colleague, not a rival, but it was hard to ignore the lady’s concern as she kept pace with them, her whole attention locked upon Mortimer. Jack had left the house by a side door and he was relieved to find that it was still unlocked. By this time Alex had lost consciousness and it took Jack and Eloise’s combined efforts to carry him up the stairs to his room.

When they struggled into the bedchamber Mortimer’s valet fell back, a look of profound shock upon his face. Eloise gave him no time to ask questions.

‘Your master has been wounded, Farrell. Pray run downstairs and fetch hot water and bandages while we get him into bed. Immediately, if you please.’

The valet dashed away. Jack carried Mortimer to the bed and laid him upon the patterned bedcover.

‘You command and Farrell obeys.’

She did not look at him, but threw aside her cloak and made her way around the room, lighting every candle.

‘Alex and I have been acquainted since childhood. Farrell knows I am a friend.’

But how good a friend?

Jack dared not ask the question, afraid he might not like the answer. He stripped off his coat and turned his attention back to the unconscious man lying on the bed. Eloise came up to stand beside him, her hands clasped as if in prayer.

‘Can you bind him up?’

‘You need not look so anxious, madam. I dealt with much worse than this in the army. These are two clean cuts: there is no reason that they should not heal perfectly well. Help me get him out of his clothes.’

Sensing her hesitation, he glanced down at her, his brows raised. She swallowed and nodded.

‘Of course.’

Silently they set to work. Eloise was already unbuttoning the coat and waistcoat so Jack pulled off Alex’s boots and began to unfasten his pantaloons. By the time Farrell returned with a jug of hot water and an armful of clean linen, the bed had been stripped back to its bottom sheet and Mortimer was lying naked in the centre.

Farrell took one horrified look at the bloodied body of his master and turned an anguished glance towards Eloise.

‘Madam, you should not—’

‘Enough, Farrell!’ she interrupted him swiftly and bent a frowning look upon the valet. ‘We can involve no one else in this,’ she said crisply. ‘Major, what do you want me to do next?’

‘Keep the pad pressed to that hole in his shoulder,’ he told her. ‘I’ll deal with the cut on his leg first.’

He was pleased at the way she responded. No tears or vapours and with her hands shaking only a little she folded a pad of clean pad and held it against the wound. ‘Very good,’ he murmured, giving her the glimmer of a smile. ‘We’ll make a soldier of you yet, madam.’

They worked quietly together, Farrell tearing the linen into bandages while Jack cleaned and bound up the cut on Alex’s thigh.

‘Should we not call a doctor?’ suggested Farrell. ‘Perhaps we should bleed him.’

‘After all the blood he has already lost?’ Jack shook his head. ‘No. The slash on his thigh looks bad but it is not that deep. I am hopeful that with rest the leg will be as good as new, except for a scar.’

‘And the shoulder?’ asked Eloise. ‘It is not bleeding so very much now.’

She was still pressing one white hand to the wound; the other was tenderly brushing Alex’s fair hair from his brow. A memory slammed into Jack. He recalled how she had brushed his hair from his eyes when they had been alone together in the shepherd’s hut. Just before he had overpowered her, grabbing those slim white wrists and turning her until she was trapped beneath him. How those blue eyes had glared up at him, her breast heaving with indignation, her soft mouth so close to his, just asking to be kissed. His body stirred at the very thought of it. He dragged his eyes and his mind away from her and back to Alex Mortimer.

‘He may find it painful to use his arm for a few days, but that should soon pass.’

Some of the anxiety left her face.

‘Perhaps a little laudanum would help,’ she suggested.

‘Yes, if there is some in the house. He will be in pain when he wakes up.’

She nodded.

‘The housekeeper will have some. Farrell must fetch it. Of the three of us, it will cause less comment if he is seen abroad at this time of night.’

‘I’ll go at once, my lady.’

‘But you will tell no one that Lady Allyngham is here,’ ordered Jack. ‘You had best tell the housekeeper that Mr Mortimer was attacked in the woods. By poachers.’

The valet slipped out of the room and a silence descended. Jack tied the final knot around Alex’s thigh.

She said quietly, ‘Thank you, Major Clifton.’

‘For what?’

‘For coming to our aid. For being here.’

Jack nodded. He poured water on to a fresh cloth and began to wipe the blood from Alex’s shoulder.

‘I assume it is Deforge who is threatening you?’

‘Yes. He sent me a note to meet him tonight. Alex came with me, for protection.’ She looked up. ‘But what were you doing there?’

‘I followed Deforge.’ He observed her look of surprise and shrugged. ‘I have my own reasons for hating the man. And I saw the way he looked at you tonight. I thought he might be dangerous, so I had my man watch him. When he told me Sir Ronald had slipped out of the house I went after him. I saw you go into the temple and guessed he had sent for you, but it was not until I realised Mortimer was hiding in the woods that I was sure. What did he want this time?’

She hesitated, as if debating with herself how much to tell him.

‘More money. Alex was angry and thought he could stop him.’ She gave a little sob. ‘It almost cost him his life. If you had not been there…’

‘I should have run Deforge through with his own sword-stick!’ muttered Jack savagely.

‘Then all would have been lost. He—he says he has left the journal with his lawyer, with instructions to publish if anything happens to him.’

‘Very clever.’ Jack gave a little huff of frustration. ‘And you plan to settle with him?’

‘The alternative is to have the Allyngham name disgraced. Our private affairs would be discussed in every coffee house, reported in the newspapers for everyone to read, even lampooned like the Prince Regent! No, I will not risk that.’

‘So you will allow a man like Deforge to impose upon you.’

‘While he has the journal, yes. I see from your frown that you do not approve, Major.’

‘No. It galls me to see you under any obligation to that man.’

She took the bloodstained cloth from his hand and handed him a clean one.

‘You said you hate Sir Ronald. Will you tell me why?’

Jack’s jaw set hard: she dared to ask, yet she refused to tell him her own secrets! He said lightly, ‘Would you have me bare my soul to you, lady?’