Chapter 30 #2
With an open mouth and unblinking eyes, Mr Dalrymple watched on in shock. He stepped backwards, distancing himself in horror.
“Get the doctor,” Lord Ravenscroft instructed his ward.
Colt watched as Mr Dalrymple dropped the gun at his feet and bolted towards the carriages. He felt close to passing out.
Georgina ripped Colt’s waistcoat open and removed his cravat. She bunched it up and compressed it over the wound firmly. He gritted his teeth as pain coursed through his body.
The only sounds now came from Colt, who panted gently, and Leggy, whose heaving noises continued from behind the boulders.
“I did not intend for this to happen,” Ravenscroft murmured.
“A fine punishment for dallying with your sister, Hester, I thought,” Colt gasped.
“I should not be so ignoble, Coulthurst. Not even to you. That damned fool Leggett gave you the wrong gun for a start, and that’s the first time Lawrence has ever hit something. Mighty bad luck, is all.”
“Get me patched up, then take your honourable ward and go away,” Colt growled. “He’s lucky it’s only my arm.”
Lord Ravenscroft nodded.
Dalrymple returned with the surgeon, who first set about making Colt comfortable.
He administered a laudanum remedy at once and assessed the wound.
The surgeon advised immediate treatment to remove any bullet fragments and suggested if he could make Colt comfortable, he would optimally transfer him to a more discreet location, such as his home, to conduct the procedure.
The doctor’s voice tapered off and panic once again stilled the group as the distinct rumble of a carriage drawing closer interrupted them once more. There could be no explaining away their presence to the authorities, not with a man injured from a bullet wound.
Colt threw a desperate look up into Georgina’s face. “Ride away.”
“I’m not leaving,” she said through her teeth.
Everyone stood motionless. No one moved to abandon Colt.
The dark carriage emerged through the mist and rocked to a halt.
Excellent. Now he would be arrested for illegal duelling.
***
Georgina pulled Colt up to support him on her knees, and he winced from the pain. The blood from the wound at least was starting to subside, though he did not like his chances of survival if the authorities carried him off.
A petite figure shrouded in a heavy black cloak tumbled out of the newly arrived carriage.
The mysterious figure floated across the damp grass, her hood obscuring her features until she reached them and pushed it back to reveal fair hair, a pale complexion, and blue eyes stretched wide in the drizzling rain. The group let out a communal sigh of relief.
“Miss Coombes!” Her name tumbled out of Mr Dalrymple’s mouth.
The young lady moved towards them, wringing her hands. As she came closer, she released a strangled sob. “Lord Coulthurst!”
Colt flinched, wishing the doctor had carried him away from the scene with greater alacrity. All of London would descend upon them before too long.
“This is not the place for you, Emily. You must go home,” Georgina insisted, continuing to hold the cloth to Colt’s wound.
“Lord Coulthurst should never have been called out. This was all a terrible mistake. Everything occurred so quickly.” She plucked a handkerchief from her reticule and dabbed her nose. “I feel as though I have been swept up in the relentless winds of a battering storm.”
Colt cursed. If she meant to wax lyrical about her emotions, he wished for someone to dispatch him properly. “Kill me now, George,” he begged. “Get the gun now. Or use yours. I don’t care.”
“Would you like to return to town with my guardian and me?” Mr Dalrymple offered Miss Coombes.
She shot him a severe stare. “I hope you have learned your lesson, Mr Dalrymple.”
His longing expression faded to one of bewilderment.
“You have no business meddling in other people’s affairs. Had I wanted you to duel his lordship, I would have asked you to. It was extremely presumptuous of you. If my brother was more athletically inclined, I would instruct him to thrash you for your impertinence,” she snapped.
Mr Dalrymple’s mouth dropped open, nonplussed. “I—I meant to be chivalrous.”
“Your chivalry is unwanted and entirely misplaced.”
The hue of Mr Dalrymple’s dark brown skin reddened in his cheeks. “Then, might I deduce, Miss Coombes, that you have no feelings for me?”
She gave a derisive laugh. “You? Naturally, I do not have feelings for you. My heart belongs to another!”
Colt’s breathing grew laboured. Despite the pressure Georgina had applied to the wound, he began to feel quite giddy. And he could not mistake that Miss Coombes was gazing at him wistfully. Her smile scattered his already disordered thoughts.
Miss Coombes had not finished berating Mr Dalrymple, however. “How could you entertain such a notion, anyway? And what about poor Lord Telford? You have allowed him to believe he had hopes with you, and now you propose to cast him aside! I have a good mind to tell him of your underhanded ways.”
“I understand I have made a terrible mistake, Miss Coombes.”
“Yes, I believe you have. It is therefore fortunate that no one was seriously injured today.”
“Indeed, you are right, Miss Coombes. I shall trouble you with my suit no further,” said Mr Dalrymple, casting a brooding look down at Colt, cradled on the ground by Georgina.
“For goodness’s sake, Ravenscroft, take that petulant boy away. We have no further need of either of you,” Colt snapped.
Lord Ravenscroft nodded and led his ward off towards his carriage.
The doctor had secured a temporary bandage over the wound, though from the dizziness he experienced when trying to sit up, Colt suspected he had already lost quite a lot of blood.
Miss Coombes crouched near him and tried to take his hand. “Please, Lord Coulthurst, allow me to express my appreciation to you for coming here today to defend my honour,” she breathed, her tongue peeping out to moisten her lips.
Of all the misguided moments to make overtures to someone. Colt grimaced. “That is unnecessary, Miss Coombes. We should all feel fortunate that it settled as it has, and no one ended up fatally injured. So far, anyway.”
She gave him a reassuring smile. “I know you must wish to be more discreet in the future. Duels at dawn are not the thing. I would like to spend more time with you … alone. So I can express my gratitude.”
Colt saw Georgina roll her eyes.
“Miss Coombes, there is no future for the two of us, and I have no intention of being alone with you. I need you to understand that you should not pursue the matter further.”
“But … I thought you loved me?” she asked, a little more desperately, her cheeks colouring. She regarded him imploringly.
He frowned. “I said nothing of the sort.”
“You duelled for me! How can you not love me?” Her shrill voice echoed across the stillness of the cold and rainy heath.
“I duelled because of you, Miss Coombes. Not for you. One of your beaus forced a quarrel upon me, and we are all fortunate in how it turned out. Or I hope I will be.” He winced as the doctor tried to readjust how he was sitting.
“I happily admit that I have behaved inappropriately in the past. Given I have been called to account for compromising you and have spilled my blood for it, I see the matter as concluded.”
Miss Coombes opened her mouth to argue further, but Georgina interjected in a firm tone. “Emily, go home now, or I will tell your mother everything you have been up to, and she will send you back to the country.”
With a wail of despair, Miss Coombes clutched her cloak around her and swept back to her carriage, which trundled away soon after.
Leggy emerged from the rocks, the smattering of freckles on his nose standing out against his unusually white cheeks.
He kept his eyes averted, and Colt was sure he could not manage the sight of blood without vomiting.
Georgina reluctantly agreed to let Leggy ride her own horse back to town, while she accompanied Colt and the doctor in the carriage to Jermyn Street.
Once stored in the safety of his coach, with the doctor administering additional laudanum and Georgina providing moral support and comfort, Colt drifted into sedated sleep, satisfied he had discharged the debt of honour.