Page 132 of The Scandalous Love of a Duke
Wareham could not shoot them all with one gun. But if it was Katherine who took the bullet?
Another man came past John with a gun trained on Wareham, while the others surrounded him.
John stared at Wareham. This man was his uncle, his mother’s half-brother, and he was about to shoot Katherine, who bore no blame.
‘Katherine is nothing to do with what has occurred between you and I. Leave her be.’
‘And leave you with everything you have taken from me?’
‘His Grace has taken nothing, Mr Wareham.’ Harvey now stood behind John.
The first man into the room was now almost behind Wareham and out of his view. The second was five feet to the side of John and now a fourth man entered, and a fourth gun was trained on Wareham.
His jaw taut, John held Wareham’s gaze. He had always thought Wareham’s eyes were like his grandsire’s, and now he knew why.
The man behind Wareham lifted a finger in warning, then he moved. The room erupted. Wareham instinctively swung his head to look back, but as he did, John saw his finger tighten on the trigger.
John threw himself across the room, his only thought to save Katherine. His shoulder struck Wareham’s arm just as the gun went off. John fell onto her, as the room filled with men who captured Wareham and pinned him down.
Lifting himself off Katherine, John touched her face. Behind him there were cries and shouts as Wareham struggled with the men.
Someone offered John a knife.
He looked down to free her wrists.God… Oh God…There was a hole in her spencer, at her shoulder. The bullet. It had entered beneath her collarbone and… Suddenly ice cold, he rolled her forward. Her arms were tied behind her and she winced with pain.
There was blood on the mattress, and the red stain on her back was spreading as he watched. The shot had passed through her.
His hands shaking, he used the knife to cut through the ropes. Once her arms were free he dropped the knife, then stripped off his coat. The scarlet stain had spread across her shoulder in the front too, and into her blonde hair.
Her gaze held a plea.
‘Your Grace.’ Harvey was at John’s shoulder.
‘She is wounded,’ John replied as he set his coat beneath her shoulder, hoping to keep the wound clean. Then he began untying his cravat. Harvey bent to pull the gag from her mouth.
A sob left her throat and then she was crying as one arm lifted while the other tried to but could not. She flinched.
‘Lie still, Katherine,’ he said as his stomach turned over. The blood continued to spread, drenching her clothes, his coat and the mattress beneath.Lord, help me.He worked his neckcloth free, unwinding it hurriedly, and used it as best he could to stem the blood. He looked up at Harvey. ‘Your neckcloth, too, hurry.’
Someone cut Katherine’s ankles free as Harvey handed John his neckcloth.
John swapped it with his own, looking into Katherine’s eyes. ‘Katherine, stay with me. I will get you home.’ Her eyes rolled upwards as he spoke, until he could only see the white, but her blood still pulsed beneath his hand. She had fainted. At least she would be free of pain.
John looked over his shoulder. ‘For God’s sake, Harvey, get me a hackney! I need to get her help!’
‘John!’ Relief swept in as Edward entered the room. Only now did he remember how every time he had needed help as a child, Edward had always been there. Always.
‘Katherine?’ he asked.
‘A bullet has gone through her shoulder. The wound will be dirty and there is nothing here to clean it…’
‘I have the carriage. You take her home. I will bring a surgeon. She will live, John,’ Edward whispered.
God, I pray so!Her body was limp and heavy when he lifted her.She cannot die!
In the carriage John held her close, cradling her head and shoulder and trying to stop the ruts in the streets from jarring her as he felt her blood seeping through his shirt.
He willed his driver to hurry. Her breathing fractured and grew shallow as they took a corner too sharply and his heart pounded. He should have been the one who was struck.
