Whirlwind Affair

Chapter 24

The sharp report of a pistol rent the air, followed almost immediately by a woman's sharp call for help.

Mrs. Brown. Without breaking his run, Austin veered swiftly toward the sound. "The lake," he shouted to Michael and Miles, who followed hard on his heels. His heart slammed against his ribs, and he forced himself not to imagine what he'd find.

Less than a minute later, they burst into a small clearing, and his worst fears were realized. Robert lay on the ground. Mrs. Brown kneeled next to him, her face chalk-white, pressing her petticoat to his shoulder. A short distance away, Shelbourne lay in the dirt, his breathing labored, his features contorted with pain, the hilt of a knife protruding from his gut.

"See to Shelbourne," he said to Michael, then ran directly to Robert, with Miles following him.

"Thank God you're here," Mrs. Brown said, her gaze flicking over him and Miles for only a second before returning to Robert.

"Is he alive?" Austin asked, dropping to his knees. His stomach turned over at the ashen pallor of Robert's skin and the dark stain spreading on his jacket.

“Yes. But he's… he's bleeding badly. I don't know how serious the wound is." Her voice shook, but her hands were steady as she applied pressure to stem the blood. Austin watched the white petticoat turn a frightening red. "I… I couldn't rip my petticoat, so I just removed it. We need bandages. A doctor." She looked at Austin through frightened eyes. "He saved my life. Threw his knife as Geoffrey shot him and-"

"I know." Forcing his own fear aside, he looked at Miles. "We need a physician. As quickly as possible."

With a terse nod, Miles dashed off in the direction of the stables.

Austin then instructed tersely, "All right. Let's apply more pressure to slow this bleeding. Then we can examine the wound." He placed his hands over hers and pressed downward. And prayed for his brother's life.

Michael crouched down next to Geoffrey Hadmore. Pain glazed his dark eyes, and his chest heaved with shallow, panting breaths. His hands spasmed over his stomach, where crimson blood spread in an ever-widening stain against his white shirt. One look at the wound left no doubt it was fatal. Hadmore was clearly in agony, and God knew a knife to the gut was a miserable way to die. Yet it was difficult to dredge up sympathy for the man. Still, Michael removed his jacket, bunched it into a makeshift pillow, then slipped it beneath Hadmore's head.

Hadmore's pain-filled gaze focused on him. "You," he whispered. "You bastard."

Michael raised his brows. "Actually, it appears that you are the bastard, Hadmore." A humorless, disgusted sound pushed between his lips. "These past few years you've been coming to my boxing emporium… who would have guessed we'd have more in common than a love of sport?"

Geoffrey's eyes narrowed to hate-filled slits. "We have nothing in common."

"I would have to agree. The man who fathered both of us was indeed nothing." His gaze flicked down to the protruding knife hilt, then he asked with a sense of detached curiosity "Why? Was this title truly worth your life?"

Geoffrey grimaced. "It was my life," he gasped. "Everything I was… from the day I was born." His eyes cleared briefly and burned with loathing. "You're nothing but trash. You'll never live up to the title. You'll be… laughed out of Society." His eyes slid closed, his breathing growing more labored.

Michael leaned closer to him and whispered, "At least I'll be around to hear the laughter, which is more than you can say."

"I hope… you rot… in hell."

Michael shrugged. "I may-someday. But you'll rot there first."

A trickle of blood oozed from between Geoffrey's lips. A final breath rattled in his lungs, then his head slumped to the side and he was still.

Michael stared at him for several seconds. You died for something that means nothing to me. Something I don't want. Something I never would have taken from you.

Now all he could do was pray that Robert didn't lose his life as well.

Allie stood in front of the fire in the drawing room, staring at the dancing flames. How much longer? She glanced at the mantel clock. Three hours. Three endless hours that felt like an eternity. An eternity during which they'd stemmed the bleeding from Robert's wound enough for the duke and Mr. Evers-or rather, the new Lord Shelbourne-to carry Robert back to the house. An eternity since she'd assisted Elizabeth and the physician in treating his injury. The gunshot had only resulted in a flesh wound-a deep one, but it could have been so much worse. Still, there was a risk of infection. And he'd lost so much blood…

But most frightening was the fact that he had not yet regained consciousness. At first she'd been almost grateful, for at least he was oblivious to the pain and the number of stitches taken to close the wound. But as she'd wiped his face with a damp cloth, brushing back his hair from his temples, she'd discovered the lump on his head. Clearly he'd hit his head when he'd fallen to the ground.

Three endless hours. And he still had not awoken. A sob bubbled up in her throat, and she bit her lips to contain it. Surely God would not allow him to survive a gunshot only to die from the fall to the ground?

Robert had saved her life. She squeezed her eyes closed, reliving the image of him striding into that clearing, looking like an avenging angel, making himself a human shield between her and a madman. A madman he'd killed in order to protect her.

An image of his handsome face, so ashen and frighteningly still, flashed in her mind. Her stomach turned over, and she pushed the thought away. But she was instantly bombarded with other pictures of him: his blue eyes alight with mischief, his lips stretched in a teasing smile. Standing in the park with pigeons poised on his hat. Pounding out an off-key song on the pianoforte. Laughing with his niece and nephew. Desire and love burning in his eyes as he loomed over her, joining his body intimately with hers.

Dear God, she loved him.

Loved his kindness and strength. I lis compassion and bravery. He'd risked everything for her. He'd told her he loved her, but even if he'd never said the words, she would have known. His feelings were evident in his every action. He was nothing like David, and shame filled her at the great disservice she'd done Robert by ever believing they were alike. He'd given her everything a man could give a woman, and instead of embracing his love, thanking God for it, and giving him the love he deserved in return, she'd pushed him away. She'd thought she'd made mistakes before? A humorless laugh escaped her.

Refusing Robert's love, and refusing to acknowledge her own love for him, was the biggest mistake she'd ever made.

And it was one she intended to rectify.

She just prayed he would survive so she'd have the chance to do so.

She'd paced in the crowded corridor outside his bedchamber, praying along with the rest of the family for him to regain consciousness. Finally, however, she could not stand the cramped area another second. She needed air, space to move, quiet to think, so she'd escaped to the drawing room. But now it, too, felt like a prison.

"Allie." At the sound of Elizabeth's voice behind her, she turned swiftly. Her gaze raked over Elizabeth 's face, noting the dark circles under her eyes.

"How is he?" she asked, barely pushing the words past the lump in her throat.

Elizabeth crossed the room, then reached out and clasped her hands. "He's awake."

Relief so intense it rendered her light-headed, rushed through her. He’s awake. A half-sob, half-laugh bubbled up inside her. There might have been two more wonderful words spoken at some point in the history of mankind, but God help her, she could not imagine what they could have been.

Robert sat propped up in his bed, two fluffy pillows stuffed behind his back. His head, wrapped in a bandage, pounded as if a battalion of devils battered his skull with hammers. His arm and shoulder, secured in a sling, alternately ached and throbbed with an intensity that made him long to clench his jaw-except he'd quickly learned that the jaw clenching made his head hurt worse.

His entire family had filed into his bedchamber, surrounding his bed like a flock of cooing pigeons. Caroline had held his right hand, his mother clasped his left, while Austin, Miles, Elizabeth, and Dr. Sattler hovered near his feet. Thank God Michael had volunteered to arrange for the transportation of the bodies, otherwise he would no doubt have hovered and gawked as well. The only person missing was Allie, and as much as he loved his family and appreciated their concern, she was the one he now wanted, needed, to see. To assure himself that she was all right as everyone claimed.

Elizabeth had gone to fetch her, and one by one his family had left his bedchamber. The last to leave were his mother and Caroline, who both looked down at him with deep worry and concern.

Hoping to reassure them, he grinned. "Egad, if only I’d known that a flesh wound and a bump on the head would garner such slavish feminine devotion, I'd have thought of it sooner. If ever I'm feeling neglected, I might just cosh myself with a rock."

Their worried expressions relaxed a bit. Leaning down, his mother pressed a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Darling. If you ever frighten me like this again, I shall be forced to take V.D.A." She favored him the fiercest look he'd ever seen on her normally serene face. "Very Drastic Action."

"Why, Mother, I had no idea you were such a tigress. What, pray tell, would you do?"

"Remain by your side at all times, prepared to fight off all the bad men. Beat them senseless with my reticule if necessary."

He chuckled, forcing himself not to grimace when pain shot through his skull and shoulder. "I wouldn't dream of making you do anything so undignified. As for remaining by my side at all times…" He pursed his lips. "Hmmm. That could prove awkward."

She cocked a single brow. "Indeed it could. Therefore, you'd best not make me do it. As it is, I'll leave you with Caroline for now. But I shall return to check on you later."

"Is that a threat or a promise?"

She smiled at him. "Both." She left the room, closing the door softly behind her.

He turned his attention to Caroline. Looking into her guiltstricken eyes, he squeezed her hand. "Stop staring at me like that," he said. "I'm fine."

A fat tear dribbled down her cheek. "But you might have been killed."

"But I wasn't."

"Allie could have been killed."

"But she wasn't."

"This is entirely my fault. If I had not left her alone with him-"

"I refuse to listen to such rot. You did not know, Caroline. None of us did. It is over, and Allie and I are safe. Let us be grateful for that and not feel guilty over things we could not control and cannot change." He offered her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "I'm afraid that you're quite stuck with me for at least the next several decades."

She raised his hand and pressed her cheek to his palm. "Thank God."

"If you want to feel sorry for someone, lavish your pity on Michael. I know him well. Being the earl of Shelbourne is not a role he will embrace or relish or conform to without a fight."

A knock sounded at the door. Caroline dropped a quick kiss on his cheek. "That will be Allie." She gave him a searching look. "I hope all goes… well."

He did not offer a reply. After all, how well could things go? Although the threat to Allie's safety was now over, nothing had changed between them.

Crossing the room, Caroline opened the door. "Come in," she said with a smile.

Allie's anxious gaze instantly found his, and his heart thumped at the sight of her. She looked pale and worried. She nodded at Caroline, then quickly crossed the room, halting next to his bed. He couldn't shift his gaze away from her, but he heard the quiet click of the door as Caroline left them alone.

Allie gently clasped his hand, and warmth spread up his arm when their palms met. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"I'm fine." At her frown, he qualified, "My head is pounding, and my shoulder hurts like the devil, but otherwise I'm perfectly fit. The doctor assured me that after a few days' rest, I'll be good as new. Of course, I don't intend to tell Austin that until I've convinced him to spot me several hundred points in billiards." He faked a feeble cough. "My horribly weakened condition, you know."

As he'd hoped, her worried features relaxed a bit. "Robert, I…" She swallowed audibly, then cleared her throat. "You saved my life. And nearly lost your own in the process. How do I thank you for that? I do not know what to say, how to adequately express my gratitude."

He indeed saw the gratitude shining in her eyes, and forced himself not to foolishly hope for more, reminding himself that she did not share his feelings. Offering her a half-smile, he said, "You say, 'Thank you, Robert.' "

A tender, warm look entered her eyes. "Thank you, Robert."

"And, well, if you were so inclined, you might also say, 'You are wonderfully brave, Robert.' "

Her lips twitched. "You are wonderfully brave, Robert."

"And strong and manly." He cleared his throat modestly. "And quite handsome."

"And strong and manly," she repeated in a soft, intimate tone that had him staring at her. "And extraordinarily handsome. Indeed, I think you are a beautiful man, if you would not object to the word."

He went perfectly still. "Urn, no. No objection."

"But not just beautiful on the outside," she said, her eyes steady on his. "Beautiful on the inside. Kind, generous, and tender. Indeed, the most wonderful man I've ever met."

His heart slapped hard against his ribs, pumping with sudden hope. "I must say, you've gotten quite good at this repeating game."

She did not smile. Indeed, he'd never seen her more serious. "I told you I was afraid of duplicating my mistakes, and I am. And the biggest mistake I ever made was pushing you away, believing that I could live my life without you." She raised his hand to her lips and pressed a warm kiss against his skin. "I almost lost you today, and that is a mistake I will never make again. I love you, Robert." The words breathed across his skin. "W.A.M.H." Squeezing his hand, she whispered, "With All My Heart."

"Allie." It was the only word he could manage. He tugged on her hand, and she leaned down. He slipped his hand into her soft hair, pulling her lower until their lips met. At last.

He attempted to raise his other arm to hold her, and pain sizzled through his shoulder, forcing a sharp grunt from his throat.

She pulled back, looking down at him with stricken eyes. "I hurt you."

"On the contrary, you've made me extremely happy." He brushed his fingers over her smooth cheek. "Um, just to make certain I'm correct with all the details, given my head injury and all that, you did just tell me you love me-correct?"

A slow, beautiful smile lit her face. "Correct." She placed her palm against his cheek, and he breathed in the delicious scent of honeysuckle.

"God knows I don't want to say anything to jeopardize this reunion, but there is a point we need to settle. Now. So it can be laid to rest." He searched her eyes. "What about my past, Allie? I cannot change it. And as much as I do not want secrets between us, there are things about that night I cannot share with you."

Her smile faded, her eyes again growing serious. "I do not want secrets, either. But I can accept that you have reasons that are obviously compelling to you. I believe in your integrity. And I trust you. Completely."

His heart performed a slow roll. He clearly sensed that she wanted to know the details about the fire, and he would have given almost anything to oblige her, but, incredibly, she loved him enough not to press him. "Thank you," he said.

A frown creased her brow. "There is something else, Robert. Can you accept the fact that I cannot have children?"

"I know you are convinced that you are barren, yet I am not

as sure," he said. "But should that turn out to be a fact, then, yes, I can accept it."

She lowered her gaze. "You would make a wonderful father-"

"Allie." He lifted her chin until she looked at him. "If we cannot make a child together, we will lavish our attention on our nieces and nephews together. You'll note that the important word in that sentence is 'together.' And as long as we are, there is nothing we cannot do."

A smile lifted one corner of her lips. "That is one of the things I love most about you. Your optimism."

"One of the things you love about me? I could be convinced to listen to more."

"I'd be happy to comply, but I'm afraid it would take me a very long time to tell you all of them."

"Indeed? How long?"

"Forty years."

They stared at each other for several heartbeats, and all the love he ever could have hoped for, glowed in her golden-brown eyes. He pressed a kiss into her palm. "As luck would have it," he said, "I happen to be free for the next forty years.".