Chapter 30
Charlotte didn’t have time to question the vision of Joshua bent low over Scarlett’s back, flying across the inn yard. She could only lift her arms and reach for Joshua, praying she’d be able to hold on.
Joshua’s arm came about her, solid and strong. “I’ve got you.”
Despite the fear still coursing through her and the possibility of pursuit, despite the rift between them, Charlotte clung tight to the man who held her. For the first time in days she felt . . . safe.
Shouts broke out behind them and only Scarlett’s speed and the element of surprise allowed them to get through the crowd and onto the open road. Still, they would likely be followed. Scarlett would tire quickly with the weight of two on her back.
Musket fire erupted behind them and Joshua’s body jolted. Charlotte turned her head.
“Joshua! Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” Joshua leaned forward as though he would protect her with his body. “Are you all right?” His voice was gruff, but she’d never heard anything more comforting. Joshua. He’d come for her.
“I’m fine.” She echoed his words. “But I don’t understand how you—”
“Hush,” he whispered, so close to her ear that his breath made her shiver. “Time to talk later.”
He was right. It wasn’t the time for questions.
“Come on, girl,” she crooned instead, urging Scarlett on.
She felt the shift in Scarlett’s gait as she extended her stride, putting distance between them and the inn.
Strands from Scarlett’s mane flew up to whip around her face, and she reveled in the silken sting.
She never thought she’d see her mare again.
Tears sprang to her eyes at the feel of Scarlett’s rippling muscles under her legs and Joshua’s solid presence at her back.
Thank you. I don’t know how this miracle happened, but . . . thank you.
Joshua slowed Scarlett and turned her off the road and into the forest. She twisted about to look up into his face.
“How did you find me?”
“I went to see Fulton.” Joshua spoke low in her ear, his voice breathless.
“Ah.” He’d come back to Edenbrook. He’d come back for her.
“I think we’ve lost any pursuers.” Joshua pulled on the reins to lead Scarlett back to the road, but the mare didn’t budge.
Charlotte urged her on, but Scarlett ignored her mistress, her attention focused on something ahead. She whinnied, a high, excited sound, and pawed the ground.
An answering whinny came through the trees. Charlotte groaned. “Heavens. I forgot Tuck. I tied him here earlier.” She bent forward to pat the mare. “Good girl, Scarlett. You found him!”
Scarlett started forward, picking her way through the brush and ignoring her riders, all her attention focused on finding her long-lost friend.
But when they reached Tuck’s side, Joshua made no move to dismount.
Charlotte turned in the saddle, but she couldn’t make out Joshua’s face. “Don’t you want to ride Tuck? We’d make better time.”
“I can’t . . .” Joshua’s voice was tight.
Charlotte shrugged at his strange behavior. “All right. I’ll ride him.”
“Not that. I can’t . . .” he repeated, his voice insistent. “You take the reins.”
Charlotte slid to the ground and looked up at Joshua. Even in the dim light, she could see how pale he’d become. “What’s wrong?”
“Just . . . my leg.” He gestured vaguely to his right calf.
“Your leg?” Charlotte reached out, trying to feel for injury through his trousers.
He stiffened. “It’s nothing, I’m sure. I probably just—” He gave a sharp hiss of pain as her fingers found his calf.
Charlotte let go as though she’d been struck and stared at her glove, glistening wet in the dim light. She brought her fingers to her face and inhaled the unmistakable metallic tang of blood.
“Joshua.” A strange calm entered her body. “You were shot. Don’t move. Just hold on to Scarlett.” He grasped the horse’s mane as she rolled up the leg of his trousers to expose an angry, bleeding gash. “I’m sorry, this may hurt.” She probed the edges of the wound, heart racing.
“It’s only a scratch,” he said. “Nothing to go on about.”
Charlotte bit her lip. He must know as well as she did the dangers of a wound like this. Not only had he lost blood, but the likelihood of festering and fever was high.
She fished around in her jacket pocket for a handkerchief and wrapped it around his leg, securing it tightly. “This should slow the bleeding. Now we must get you home and call the doctor to tend to it properly.”
He snorted. “Never seen a doctor in my life.”
She sighed and led Scarlett to Tuck’s side.
“No need to be a martyr,” she said tartly.
She mounted the gelding, keeping hold of Scarlett’s lead.
“You just hold on to the pommel.” She put her heels to Tuck’s sides.
The horse jumped forward, as eager as she was to be off.
She led Scarlett back to the main road, praying they’d missed the picket.
“Sorry, Charlotte. Can’t . . .” Joshua leaned forward, murmuring something unintelligible.
Charlotte exhaled and slowed Tuck to a walk. “Hang in there, my love,” she whispered, looking back at Joshua’s slumped form. A surge of fear made her throat tighten. Scarlett nickered as though sensing Charlotte’s panic. “It’s all right, girl.” The mare’s familiar presence grounded her.
Let me see him safely home. And please, let him be well.
Joshua made it inside Edenbrook with Fulton on one side and Charlotte on the other.
His leg burned, and a strange headiness threatened to send him crashing to the ground.
Charlotte wanted to take him up to the guest room, but Fulton convinced her that the empty maid’s room off the kitchen was a more sensible choice.
Lucky, that. He doubted he’d make it up the stairs.
Joshua sank down on the straw mattress with a sigh, but his relief was short-lived. By the time Fulton had pulled off his boots and cut the trouser away from his injured leg, his head was swimming. He must have lost more blood than he thought.
The burn of a hot cloth on his wound made his breath catch. He opened his eyes to see Fulton and Charlotte bent over his leg. His calf felt as though it were on fire, his head was cloudy, his hands and feet numb with cold.
Charlotte glanced up and caught his eye. Her mouth turned down in a grimace. “This will hurt, I’m afraid.”
Joshua nodded, biting his lip against a new rush of pain as Fulton rinsed the wound and coated it with a thick, foul-smelling salve.
While Charlotte went to the kitchen to make tea, Fulton helped Joshua out of his damp clothes and into a borrowed nightshirt. Back in bed, Joshua lay down, his head spinning.
There was a peace to this simple bedroom, the plain bedstead and washstand, the clean, whitewashed walls. Mostly, though, there was the peace of being near Charlotte again.
He wanted to let his eyes sink shut in exhaustion, but he couldn’t stifle the niggling sense that all was not well.
The scene at Cooper’s Inn came rushing back. Cole and his men. Charlotte was in danger.
“Wait,” he said as Fulton turned to carry the basin and dirty cloths away. “Any sign of Cole’s men?”
“Someone’s been watching the house. I’ve seen tracks.” Fulton gave a half smile. “But I reckon they won’t get too close.”
“What happened?”
“I was a marksman at Waterloo, see. Guess my aim’s still true.”
Joshua’s mouth dropped open in surprise.
“Oh, don’t worry. They rode away in one piece.” Fulton headed out the door. “Mostly.”
Charlotte returned a few moments later with a cup of tea and helped him drink. She placed the cup beside the bed and stood, looking down, her fingers restlessly plucking the blanket.
“Charlotte,” he said, his voice low. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”
“I . . . I’m sorry about”—she gestured at his injured leg—“everything.”
“Not your fault. Besides, I got off pretty lucky, I’d say.” He hated the tension vibrating from her and cast about for something to lift her spirits. “How’s Scarlett?”
That brought a smile to her face. “She’s well. Happy to be back in her old stall, I’d say. Where did you find her?”
He smiled. “Surprised you, did I? I came across Ogden in the city just when I needed a mount. Scarlett’s the real hero. I doubt I would have been reckless enough to gallop through those men and scoop you up, but she gave me no choice.”
“She’s not short on courage.”
Joshua loved the wide, delighted smile on her face. Would that he could always keep it there. “Neither is her mistress.”
Charlotte looked down, a hint of red staining her cheeks. “That still doesn’t explain how you came to get her back.”
“Well, as to that . . . She’s yours.” He smiled, the pain in his leg forgotten in the simple joy of pleasing her.
Charlotte frowned. Now what? He thought she’d be overjoyed at the return of her horse. “Ogden spent twenty pounds on Scarlett and he just . . . gave her back?”
The instinct to keep the truth from her rose up and he squashed it down. Trying to shield her from unpleasantness had caused all their problems in the past. It was time to start fresh. “Not exactly. I had some money and . . .”
“And?” she prompted, her chin set as though she’d wait an eternity to get an answer out of him.
“And he said he couldn’t manage her.” At her look of growing outrage, he couldn’t help but add, “Lady-trained were his exact words, I believe.”
“Of all the ridiculous things. Covering his own incompetence, that’s what that is.”
Joshua nodded solemnly. He’d forgotten how beautiful she was. How much he delighted in the sound of her voice, even when filled with outrage.
“It’s a good thing you got her back before he ruined her.” She softened. “Thank you.” She blinked and looked away but not before he saw moisture fill her eyes.
“Charlotte, don’t . . .” Joshua tried to sit up and his breath hitched.
“Watch your leg.” She dashed a tear from her cheek.
“I’m fine. Just a twinge.”
Charlotte plumped his pillow and straightened his blankets, making him laugh.
“Stop fussing. I feel like an invalid.”
“You are an invalid,” she corrected. “At least for the next week or so.”’
“Week? I am not staying in this bed for a week.”
“I don’t think you’ll have much say in the matter.” She looked down, her lip trembling. “If Dr. Rolph can’t come, Fulton’s nursed his share of wounds. We’ll follow his orders and I’m sure you’ll be—”
“Charlotte,” he said, capturing her hand in his. “I told you I was fine.”
“You aren’t fine. If you’d seen all that blood . . .” She swallowed and looked away. “You were shot, Joshua. All because of me.”
“Nonsense. You’re not responsible for me.
I went of my own free will.” His words made her head shoot up.
“Sound familiar?” He smiled gently. “We neither of us can control the future.” He spoke the words slowly, only now realizing their truth.
“Though I can’t help but wish you’d have more care for your safety. Riding into that rebellion . . .”
A stubborn look came over her face, one he was beginning to recognize. “I had to try to find Simon.”
He ground his teeth. Would she never stop worrying about her brother? “What makes you think he’d listen to you now?”
Her shoulders drooped and he regretted his harsh words. “You don’t understand.” She swallowed. “I’m responsible for my family. For Edenbrook. I promised—”
“I understand one thing,” he said, not trying to mask his fierce tone. “There’s no one responsible for you. No one who puts you first. And you’re . . .” He broke off, swallowing. “You’re worth more than the lot of us together.”