Chapter 21
ALEXANDER
As we rode toward the field at the edge of the estate, I inhaled deeply.
The air was resplendent with the scent of spring.
I glanced around, taking in the beauty. The dew was heavy on the long grasses that swayed in the early morning breeze.
I knew that, later, the sky overhead would be so blue it would remind me of my Maddie’s extraordinary eyes.
A niggling thought worried at me, and I wondered if this perhaps might be the last time I would be able to gaze on such beauty.
Unusually overcome, I offered up a prayer for my safety. For my wife and our unborn babe.
I paused my horse, taking it all in. Edward turned in his saddle, regarding me.
“Alexander?”
“Promise me one last time.”
He rounded his steed and drew alongside me. “She will be looked after. Always. As God as my witness, she and your babe will want for nothing. I will watch over both of them as if they were my own and care for them. He will never again touch her life.”
I reached over and grasped his forearm. “Thank you. You have been the truest, most loyal companion a man could ask for to walk beside him.”
“Until the end. That was our vow as young men.”
I nodded. “If the end be today, I am grateful to have you with me.”
“It will not be,” he stated firmly. “You will return to your wife shortly and put this behind you.”
“Let us get on with it, then.”
We urged the horses forward, and I took in some deep breaths, settling my nerves. I dismounted, drawing myself up to my full height. I refused to show any hesitancy or worry in front of either man. I glared at Barnett, focusing my loathing in his direction.
Our eyes met, mine angry and determined. His were rheumy, bloodshot, and I noticed he was holding on to the cart, as if to steady himself. He looked even older than he had the day before.
All pluses for me.
As was customary, my physician was present, ready to come to my aid if necessary. I prayed he would not be required. I nodded my thanks to him, and he dipped his chin in return.
The weapons were checked, and Edward nodded in satisfaction. The rules were laid out, clear and concise. Ten paces. One shot.
“Gentlemen, your places.”
Time felt as if it were racing. My pulse beat rapidly, my heart pumping. I reached for my pistol, once again catching Barnett’s eye.
“We can end this peacefully. As gentlemen,” I urged, offering him one last reprieve.
“We will end it completely.” His voice was raspy and thick, indicating his own nerves.
“I have no wish to kill you. Allow me to purchase Milton Manor and erase your debts. Be done with this vendetta.”
He didn’t reply, continuing only to glare at me in distaste.
“As you wish.”
I held my head high as we counted off our steps.
I turned, pausing. I intended on firing my pistol into the air, hoping he would follow suit.
But he was determined. His arm shook as he aimed, firing in my direction.
As honor stated, I remained in place, his bullet whizzing past me.
I felt the heat as it went by, the sound a low, dull hum in my ear.
I pointed my gun, but I didn’t engage until he did the unthinkable, breaking every rule of engagement.
He fired again.
Edward shouted out in fury as I shot my pistol for the first time. In my head, I imagined the bullets passing each other, a fury of heat and steel, seeking their targets. I felt the burn of the bullet as it tore through my flesh, and I stumbled back as the pain exploded in my left arm.
I dropped my pistol, clutching my limb. Barnett fell back on the ground, Leigh kneeling beside him. Instantly, Edward was at my side, grasping my shoulder.
“Alexander, where are you hurt?”
I grimaced. “My arm. His aim is as bad as I thought.” I looked over. “The bastard took a second shot. That was not what was agreed upon. He broke his word.”
“The coward,” he seethed. “He has no honor.”
“Is he dead?” I asked, seeing he hadn’t moved.
“If there is a God.”
Dr. Atwood appeared, pulling off my jacket. “You are lucky,” he muttered. “It’s a through and through.”
“Bandage it and tend to me later.”
“My lord—”
“Check on Barnett,” I demanded. “Now.”
He wound a bandage around my arm and walked toward Barnett.
“What will you do, Alexander?”
I huffed, feeling relief, anger, and the need to see my wife coursing through me.
“Get him off my property. He is a coward and a cheat. I will make it known to all.”
Dr. Atwood came back. “He is hit in the left quadrant, but the bullet is lodged inside. I will have to remove it.”
“Will he live?”
“I am unsure at this point. He is losing a lot of blood and—” he cleared his throat “—he is not in the best of health.”
“Take him to the inn and see to it. Not here. Return when you are done.”
He bowed. “My lord.”
“Take me home, Edward. I need to see my wife.”
“With pleasure.”
We waited as Barnett was loaded on the cart and it rambled away.
“Can you ride?”
“Yes.” I was determined to return as I departed. Head held high, shoulders straight, my pride intact. Besides, it would give Maddie great comfort to see me riding to the house.
At Knight’s side, I shook my head. “I believe I require assistance.”
Edward chuckled. “It will be gladly given, my lord.”
Once in the saddle, I grimaced again. “Damn it all to hell, that hurts.”
“Lady Wheaton will tend you.”
I thought of my wife’s gentle touch. All at once, my adrenaline left me, and I felt the sheer magnitude of what had occurred hit me. My body seemed to deflate, and I felt my limbs shaking.
“Alexander?”
“I think perhaps I might—”
I couldn’t speak, unable to form words.
Edward grabbed my reins. “Shut your eyes, and for God’s sake, don’t fall off your mount.”
It wasn’t the glorious return I had imagined. I was barely able to remain upright. I heard Maddie’s voice, strained and upset. Edward’s assurances. I opened my eyes, meeting Maddie’s terrified gaze.
“I am well, my love.”
“You, sir,” she replied, her eyes bright with unshed tears, “are a liar and an imbecile.”
I wanted to laugh. To hold her and assure her that all was settled. But it was difficult to achieve when my legs refused to hold me up and I required Edward’s assistance and his strong grip to get me inside.
“Take him to his chamber,” Maddie ordered.
Upstairs, I was shocked when I realized it was my wife who tore away my sleeve. She muttered and tutted while attending me, ignoring my low groans of pain and discomfort.
“The baron?” she asked Edward, who was assisting her.
“Alexander shot him after he took a second attempt at hitting him.”
“I thought you said it would be one shot!” she exclaimed, horrified.
“We did.”
Her eyes grew round with anger, and she muttered something under her breath. It was most unladylike and something I was certain she had heard me say.
“That pigeon-livered cad. As useless as a flaccid cock.”
I was shocked and delighted at her anger and choice of words.
“Dr. Atwood is seeing to him at the inn,” I informed her. “I did not want him in this house.”
“Good. But he should be here tending you.”
“It’s just a scratch, my sweet,” I assured her. “Although if you insist on wrenching my arm one more time, it may detach.”
“Hush.”
I gasped as she poured something on my arm, the burn almost as bad as the wound.
“Damnation!” I yelled. “What was that? Brimstone?”
“Whiskey. It will clean the wound. Be still.”
“The whiskey is for my throat, not my arm,” I argued, but did as she requested. I wasn’t used to this demeanor from Maddie. No-nonsense. In charge. It was rather unsettling.
Dr. Atwood walked in, and I heaved a sigh of relief.
He would take over now. Except he looked at what Maddie was doing and nodded in agreement.
Even the herbs she had brought out from the healer in the village.
Together, they wrapped my arm, and Dr. Atwood stood back, satisfied.
“We will watch it and make sure it drains and does not become infected. I believe your wife has this well in hand.”
Maddie lifted my head, letting me sip some liquid. It was sweet and light with a slightly bitter aftertaste, but the cool was welcome on my throat.
“And the coward?” Edward demanded.
“I dug out the bullet and left him to his butler and solicitor.” He shook his head.
“I asked the innkeeper’s wife to check on him and send for me if needed.
” He met my eyes. “I turned after the first shot, thinking it was over. I saw what he did. You had no choice but to fire, my lord. He was aiming to kill you—of that, I have no doubt.”
Maddie gasped, and I reached out my hand to comfort her. The room seemed too hot and bright, and I struggled to reach her, the distance seeming to grow between us.
“I believe he will rest. The draught you gave him will help,” Dr. Atwood stated, nodding. “I will look in on him tomorrow.”
My eyes refused to stay open. I fought the heaviness, needing to talk to Maddie. To reassure her. I was home. I was fine. I would heal, and we would move on from this unpleasantness.
But I lost the battle and drifted.