Page 56 of Snowy and the Seven Doves
The front way was more direct, but Snowy seldom used it when the House was open for business, and this time of the morning it was still busy. Successive waves of customers arrived from when they opened at six in the evening through to dawn, as men left ton entertainments, gambling dens, or whatever else amused them and came looking for some female company.
At the back of the building, a door let on to the complex of kitchen, scullery, and pantries. Another, larger door, approached by steps and a ramp, gave access to the cellars. The one they wanted—the door to the private stairs—was less obvious than either, partly masked by a pile of empty barrels waiting for collection and tucked into a shadow cast by the stairwell that stepped out from one corner of the building.
Later, they decided the shooter had not noticed the third door and was not expecting them to turn short of the other two.
Snowy was bending to put his key in the door when Rahat gave a shout and shoved him into the corner behind the barrels. At the same time, he heard the crack of a rifle shot, followed a moment later by another as Rahat landed half on top of him.
He pulled the pocket pistol from his overcoat and wriggled to the edge of the barrels, peering around in time to see a silhouette at the other end of the alley. From the movements, he was reloading his rifle. Snowy took a shot, but his bullet must have missed the man, for he threw the rifle down and ran off.
“He’s gone,” he told Rahat, then looked back to see Rahat hobbling toward him. “You were hit?”
Rahat’s face was a blur in the poor light. His voice was strained. “Just a scratch, I am sure. He caught my thigh.”
Snowy dropped his pistol back in his pocket and unlocked the door behind them. “Let’s go this way to the kitchen and get that seen to. I’m sure the shooter is gone, but there’s no point in putting ourselves out into the open when we don’t have to.”
Rahat limped inside. “I would not want to run right at this minute,” he joked.
It was somewhat more than a scratch—a deep groove, still bleeding when Poppy cut Rahat’s trousers short to disclose the damage, but the bullet had continued on its way and Poppy was able to flush out any fibers that had adhered to the flesh.
“There you go, Mr. Rahat,” she said, when she had finished dressing the wound. “You should be good as gold in a week or two. Don’t let him use that leg for a few days, Snowy my duck. You don’t want it to keep bleeding.”
“How often should the dressing be changed, Poppy?” Snowy asked. “No, don’t get up, Rahat. You heard Poppy. I’ll have a couple of the men carry your chair upstairs with you on it.”
Rahat grimaced but stayed put.
Poppy shrugged. “Ask Lady Charmain about the dressings,” she said. “So, you and the countess are betrothed now, Snowy?”
His smile blossomed at the thought of it. “We are to be wed, and all my foster mothers are invited to the wedding,” he said.
“Get along with you, duckie,” Poppy jeered. “Your lady won’t want the likes of us there.”
“She does, Poppy. She said so.”
“Poppy, we’re nearly out of oysters, and low on frumenty,” said Jasmine from the door. “Hello, Snowy.” She saw Rahat. “What happened? No. Never mind. Tell me later.”
“If I may have a couple of men to carry Rahat upstairs,” Snowy said, “we will get out of your way.”
“Thank you, Miss Poppy,” Rahat said.
*
Snowy arrived withbreakfast, seeking wound care for his valet. Margaret was horrified to hear of the attack on him. The third! And each one a narrow escape.
She redressed Rahat’s wound and agreed with him and Poppy that the wound was relatively minor.
“We can call Lord Lechton to have a look if you wish,” she offered, but Rahat thought it was unnecessary.
“I will have beds made up for you both,” Margaret told him. “Rahat, you probably need another couple of days of keeping that leg still for the wound to start healing. If you are here, I can keep an eye on things. Hal, I would feel better, and I’m sure Rahat would, too, if you did not go back to the House of Blossoms, at least at night.”
“What of your reputation?” Snowy asked.
Margaret looked at Pauline. “I have my companion and my servants. Besides, we shall be wed in a few days. If there is any gossip, marriage will quell it. Please, Hal, I am worried. This is the third attack, and two of them at the House of Blossoms.”
Snowy cupped her face with his hand, his smile warming her heart. “I will stay here at night, and I will not go to the House of Blossoms alone or in the dark. Will that ease your mind, dear one?”
She leaned into his hand; the warmth threatened by the chill of the attacks.
“Stopping Snowden will ease my mind.” She stepped away from the comfort of his hand and busied herself cleaning up the detritus from redressing the wound.
