Page 85 of In Compromise with the Earl
Stepping in, Oswald nearly collapsed on his cousin, who, quickly grabbed him. “Oswald, what happened?”
“I was attacked,” he gasped out. “Muggers. I got shot.”
“Dear God,” Leo muttered while taking Oswald further into the humble apartment. He gently rested Oswald on a chair and went to work removing the bloodied shirt.
Unable to do anything but let his cousin take care of him, Oswald gave in to the darkness encroaching on his vison and sank into unconsciousness quickly.
* * *
When he managed to fight through the fog in his mind and the dark curtain behind his eyes, Oswald lifted his heavy lids and winced as the light of late morning met his tender orbs.
Muted thrums of pain lanced up his arm and when he managed to twist his head and look, he found his arm cleaned and bandaged so tightly his arm was immobile.
His chest was bare but Leo had draped a thin blanket over him and he sighed in relief. He had made the right decision to go to his cousin instead of his Hall, and he felt gratified, but as his memory came back in bits and pieces, the happy sensation began to fade.
Following the Duke to the tavern—
Going into the basement to confront him—
Being told that the Duke was not the blackmailer—
Oswald felt more distressed than ever; the pain in his arm a negligible sensation to the cutting lances that ripped through his chest. Aphrodite’s eyes, heavy with hurt and distrust, flicked before him and he felt burdened to tell her the truth.
He had no other options to pursue and the deal he had made with himself to tell her when he came to this dead end rested on his heart. He knew he hurt Aphrodite, something he had vowed to never do, and he had to make it right.
“Ah, you’re awake,” Leo said while walking into the room, holding a cup of steaming coffee. “I must admit, I was terrified when you came to me last night, bleeding and soon, unconscious.”
Touching his arm, Oswald said, “Thank you for helping me.”
Handing him the cup of coffee, Leo perched on the edge of another chair. He raked a hand through his hair, tousling the blond strands while his blue eyes took on a distressed look. “Oswald, what in God’s name happened last night?”
The burden of keeping his secrets felt heavier than ever. He did not want to tell anyone else before Aphrodite; one day he knew he would confess his sins but not until he told the truth to his wife.
“I was in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Oswald said. “I managed to get a hold of a gun and defend myself, but my carriage driver is dead.”
Leo looked distressed. “We’ll have to call the Constable on this.”
“I know, but I have to get home first,” he said. “Aphrodite must be worried sick now.”
“I…I couldn’t get the shot out of your arm. I tried, I did, but I was so afraid of butchering you.” Leo said fitfully. “As soon it was daylight, I had to get your physician to come and do it. I’m sorry Oswald.”
“That’s fine,” Oswald sighed. “At least I don’t have to go to the hospital. We can call the Constable when I get cleaned up and dressed.”
“And another cup if you have it,” Oswald glanced into dregs of his coffee. “It already feels like it is going to be a long day.
His supposition was right; when the Constable came the interview felt more like an inquisition, but when the two uniformed men, Oswald and Leo went to the site, he found the carriage stripped of wheels, doors and seats, even the dead horse was missing with only the dead body of his driver crammed inside. He did not have to think about the live horse, he knew it too was gone.
By the time it was done, he could only go back to Leo’s home, he fell asleep in his cousin’s bed, exhausted.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
While nursing a cup of tea, Aphrodite felt hollow; Oswald had been gone for a day-and-a-half and as the time slipped past, the faith she had that he would come home began to dwindle and she doubted that he would come home at all.
Where is he?
The Dowager had gone to the town a few hours ago and she was waiting for both Bristol’s to come home, but she hoped more for Oswald. What was he hiding?
Luckily, her window was facing the front drive and she saw the Dowager’s carriage trundle through the gate until it came to a stop. She watched as the Dowager stepped out, and she hoped Oswald would follow her—but he did not.
