Chapter Sixteen
Fire blazed through his shoulder with an unholy pain.
But the moment of agony was overcome by the need to protect his wife.
David ignored the wound and moved through the shrubbery until he could see where the gunman was.
A man was retreating on horseback, and he could hear the shouting of servants.
He tried to make out the assailant’s features, but the man was already riding hard through the hills.
Two of his footmen spied him, but David ordered, “Go!” It took only moments for them to seize horses and pursue the man.
Then he turned back to Amelia, who had come up behind him. The bullet wound was so intense, he could hardly breathe. Yet his greater concern was his wife.
“You’re bleeding,” she whispered in horror. “David, you’re covered in blood.”
“It’s only my shoulder,” he admitted, shrugging it off. He didn’t know what instinct had made him react. The moment he’d seen the glint of the pistol, he’d thrown himself in front of her, shoving her down.
It didn’t matter that he’d been wounded on her behalf. He’d have done it again without question.
“Who did this to you?” she demanded. Then she paled, as if she’d come to the same conclusion he’d realized. Slowly, she reached to touch his bleeding shoulder. “That bullet was meant for me. He shot…where I was standing.”
David nodded in silent agreement. He didn’t know who would ever threaten Amelia, but she was already walking with him back to the house.
“We need Dr. Fraser,” Amelia continued. “He’ll know how to fix your shoulder.” She pressed a handkerchief against the blood, trying to stanch the flow.
“Don’t press too hard against it,” he warned, grimacing at the pain.
She softened the pressure, and when her worried green eyes met his, she said, “You saved my life.”
Despite the fiery ache, he leaned in and kissed her. “I would do it again.”
She sent one of the footmen to fetch Dr. Fraser, and it took only moments for him to appear with his wife.
Lady Falsham was holding Grace, and the moment Juliette saw David’s wound, she handed her daughter to Mrs. Menford.
The older housekeeper was startled, but her face softened when she took the young girl.
Amelia started to explain what happened while Dr. Fraser examined David’s shoulder. Thankfully, the bullet had gone through, but her husband bit his lip to fight against the pain.
“Who did this to you, Hartford?” the doctor asked.
“I didn’t see him clearly. He was older, though, closer to the age of Amelia’s father.”
They walked back inside the house, and Juliette gave orders for water and bandages. While he wiped the blood away, Fraser kept his voice low. “And you think he was aiming at Amelia?”
“I know he was.” He hissed when the doctor blotted the wound again.
“David shoved me away,” Amelia admitted. Her hand moved to her throat, and she looked toward her sister. “Could it have been Lord Strathland?”
David had heard stories of the earl who had caused untold problems for Amelia’s family.
The man had been locked away in a lunatic asylum, but he hardly cared whether or not it was the earl.
Regardless of who had tried to shoot his wife, he wouldn’t stop until the man was found.
He would let no one threaten the woman he loved.
Juliette’s gaze moved toward her husband. The fury on the doctor’s face spoke of a man who was contemplating murder. “He’s the only person with a reason to kill any of us.”
Amelia came to stand beside David. “If Lord Strathland did come here, his first target would have been Dr. Fraser. Not me.” She linked hands with her sister to offer silent support.
“I sent men in pursuit,” David told them. “When they return, we’ll know who it was.”
And he would hunt the man down and bring his own retribution upon him. Suffering wasn’t enough—he’d rather see the assailant buried.
“I’ve no wish to wait that long,” the doctor countered. “Have you a fast horse I could borrow?”
He did, but Juliette was already shaking her head. “No. You can’t go after Strathland, if it was him.” She took her husband’s hands in hers. “Paul, it’s what he wants. And then he’ll come after me and after Grace.” Her eyes filled up with unshed tears. “You can’t leave us.”
“It doesn’t make sense,” Amelia ventured. “If he came here to kill any of us, why would he come after me? And why would he leave so soon afterwards?”
“He was nearly caught,” David responded.
“And because he has another target to attack.” The answer crystallized in his mind, and he had no doubt what the man intended.
“If it was Strathland, then he’ll pursue your parents.
He won’t go swiftly, because he knows you’ll follow him. And then he’ll have all of you.”
Dr. Fraser nodded. “You’re right.” He finished bandaging the wound and ordered, “You’re going to be wanting something tae help you sleep tonight.” He withdrew a small vial from his leather bag and said, “Take a few drops in a cup of tea, and it will ease the pain.”
“My lord,” a footman interrupted, “Forgive me, but this young woman insisted upon seeing you.”
It was Sarah Carlisle, the Earl of Strathland’s sister. The moment she appeared, the room fell deathly quiet. For there was no longer any doubt that Strathland was behind the attack.
“I’m so terribly sorry, Lord Castledon.” Her face burned bright red, and she confessed, “M-my brother was released from the asylum a few weeks ago. But he’s…still very ill. He’s not thinking clearly and never should have been let out.”
Her hands were shaking, and she said, “He came here with the intent of killing Dr. Fraser and Lady Castledon, Juliette’s sister. H-he wanted Juliette to see them suffer.”
“Do you think he’s gone northwest, toward Ballaloch?”
She nodded. “Please, my lord. Someone has to stop him. He doesn’t care what happens to him. Vengeance is all that matters.”
The doctor met David’s gaze. “I’m taking your fastest horse and any men who are wanting to come with me.”
“No,” Juliette insisted. “Don’t, Paul.”
“Then you want me to hide here while the man goes tae kill your father and mother?” The doctor underscored his harsh words by stroking his wife’s cheek. “I don’t think you do, a chrídhe.”
Juliette was openly crying now, holding tight to her husband. “I don’t like this.”
“My brother won’t stop,” Lady Sarah admitted. “He is mad, and if you don’t find him, I fear the worst.” Her face colored, and she stared at Amelia. “I had to warn you.”
Amelia nodded and laced her fingers with David’s.
There seemed to be an unspoken agreement between them that he didn’t understand.
But then his wife ordered, “Send whatever men you want to help Dr. Fraser. Juliette will stay with us. She is who the earl truly wants. We’ll keep her safe here, along with Grace. ”
David didn’t like the idea of staying behind, but he recognized the need to protect the women. He stared at Fraser, who nodded. “So be it.”
The doctor reached for his coat and added, “This time, I’m going to finish it, Juliette. Strathland won’t come back alive.”
He’d missed the shot.
So close, and yet the bullet had caught the earl instead of Amelia Andrews.
With every mile that passed, Brandon was taunted by his failure. It infuriated him, for the pistol wasn’t as accurate as he’d thought.
He’d had no time to reload before one of the servants had seen him. There had been only seconds to get away, for if he’d been caught then, he could not have killed the rest of them.
Brandon kicked his horse’s flanks and urged the animal faster. He hardly cared about those who would pursue him. Instead of feeling fear, it only heightened his excitement. It was the thrill of a very different chase. One that would end in the way he wanted it to.
He rode west until he located the coach that had brought him this far. Richardson was waiting, along with his driver.
Brandon pulled his horse to a stop and stripped off his coat. “Give me your coat,” he ordered. “Put on mine.”
Richardson appeared confused at the command. “My lord, why?”
“Just do it.”
He handed over his coat and accepted the one Brandon gave him. Before the man could ask another question, Brandon shot him in the chest.
Richardson dropped to his knees beside the horse and died within seconds. He’d never had time to take a second breath. Feeling satisfied, Brandon reloaded his pistol.
His pursuers would be searching for a man on horseback, wearing a green coat. They would not guess that he was in a coach. The driver was staring at him with wide eyes, as if he couldn’t believe the murder he’d just witnessed.
“I would suggest that you drive me to Ballaloch, as fast as the horses can manage it,” Brandon said, climbing inside the coach. “Your life depends on it.”
Within minutes, they were continuing on the road, as fast as possible. Undoubtedly, Lord Castledon’s men would track him down soon enough, but in the meantime, Richardson’s body would delay their progress. A few hours were all he needed.
His sister’s escape would pose a problem, but he hoped that his pursuers hadn’t had time to speak with Sarah. If they’d struck off immediately, they wouldn’t have seen her.
Inside the confines of the coach, he blinked as his head began to hurt again. He fought against the haze that threatened his clarity. His purpose was clear, and he had the weapons he needed to accomplish this task.
He closed his eyes, imagining their screams.
Days passed, slipping into nights, until Brandon lost track of his bearings. He knew they were in Scotland, but he could not say how far away they were from Ballaloch.
Darkness surrounded him, but on this night, he found it difficult to sleep. He sensed that someone had caught up to him. Although he’d stopped once or twice, it had been for only an hour or two. He hardly cared that his coachman hadn’t slept. The man would sleep for an eternity once they arrived.
Abruptly, the coach stopped for no reason. Brandon pounded against the ceiling of the coach, demanding to know why. The silence was ghostly, making him reach for a loaded pistol. Every part of him was alert, waiting for the moment the door would fly open.
Minutes crept onward, and his blood ran cold, waiting. At long last, he could bear it no longer. He opened the door of the coach, staring into the darkness that was only illuminated by the dim lantern light.
He never saw anyone. The night closed over him, making his pulse quicken. His driver lay prone upon the seat, his neck twisted at an unnatural angle.
Brandon kept the pistol pointed forward, waiting for his enemy to emerge from the shadows.
He never saw the face of the man who pulled the trigger, nor did he feel anything more after the bullet entered his brain.
FOUR DAYS LATER
Amelia stood at the window, watching as Sarah Carlisle stood before the coach. Her brother’s body had been found in Scotland, and an investigation of the murder had begun. Thankfully, Dr. Fraser was not a suspect, since Strathland’s body had been found before he’d reached the man.
Outside, rain splattered against the cobblestones, but Sarah didn’t hurry to leave. She looked desolate and lost, but she risked a glance above, as if she could see Amelia watching.
In silent thanks, she raised a small bundle, which contained the jewels and banknotes Amelia had given her earlier, as part of the blackmail payment. Sarah had tried to return it to her yesterday, but Amelia knew that she would need it more than ever, now that her brother was dead.
David came up behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. He said nothing, but offered the quiet comfort of his presence. Amelia watched as the coach drove away, feeling as if a burden had been lifted from her. The Earl of Strathland would never trouble her family again.
Turning back to her husband, she asked, “Are you in pain?”
David’s shoulder had been bound up in linen after Dr. Fraser had treated the wound. Although it would heal, she worried about the danger of a fever.
“A little.” His hands slid down to her waist, and he pressed a kiss against her throat.
“You should be in bed,” Amelia reminded him. “You were shot.”
“Good idea.” He caught her hand, lacing his fingers with hers. “I’ll let you take care of me.”
She led him back to the bed, and he leaned back against the pillows. “Come and lie beside me so I’ll feel better.”
Amelia obeyed. For a moment, he lay on his uninjured side, watching her. She grew self-conscious under his gaze. “I’m so sorry this happened to you.”
“I would take another bullet for you without question, Amelia.” He reached out to touch her face. She heard the truth in his voice and saw the honesty in his eyes.
His palm moved down to join with hers. “And you can’t leave me now, can you?”
“No,” she whispered. “I won’t leave you. I never really wanted to.” She raised his hand to her lips, so thankful that he was alive. If anything had happened to David, she didn’t know how she could go on.
She understood, now, why he had grieved for his first wife for so long. It would be like ripping her spirit in half.
“And you won’t leave me, either, unless you take me along,” she insisted.
David threaded one hand in her hair. “I love you, Amelia.” The warmth in his voice washed over her, pressing back her fear of losing him. “And even if I’m not the kind of husband you imagined marrying, that will always be true.”
She leaned in and touched her mouth to his. “It’s true, that you aren’t the man I dreamed of.” With a smile, she added, “You’re so much more.”