Flinging slurred vulgarities at Mr. Hollingsworth’s unconscious body, the man kicked Mr. Hollingsworth twice in the ribs, then glowered at Silas and Roxburghe as if daring them to speak out against his vicious act.
Neither of them moved.
Nodding once, the man turned, trudged across the alley, and vanished down another side street.
“If he didn’t need medical attention before, he’ll certainly need it now.” Roxburghe hastened to Mr. Hollingsworth’s side. Kneeling in the snow, Roxburghe rolled Mr. Hollingsworth onto his back, leaned down, and placed his ear to Mr. Hollingsworth’s chest. “He’s still breathing.”
“Where’s the nearest doctor?” Silas glanced around at the unfamiliar surroundings.
“The prison,” Roxburghe hooked his hands under Mr. Hollingsworth’s arms. “Help me carry him.”
Silas positioned himself between Mr. Hollingsworth’s legs, grabbed the man’s knees, and lifted at the same time as Roxburghe, each of them expelling a low grunt.
“He appeared lighter than he feels,” Silas grumbled, adjusting his hold on Mr. Hollingsworth and trudging backward toward the main street.
“You carried Mrs. Webb into your residence yesterday without issue.”
“I had motivation.” The retort slipped out before Silas could stop it.
A giant grin broke Roxburghe’s face. “Did that motivation have dark brown hair?”
“No,” Silas scowled, his response earning a wider grin. “Will the prison treat Mr. Hollingsworth now that he’s no longer a guest of theirs?”
“Mr. Younge will make an exception for us,” Roxburghe replied and, releasing a low groan, stopped. “We need to set Mr. Hollingsworth down for a moment.”
“Something is too heavy for the great Duke of Roxburghe?” Silas teased, choosing a mostly clean section of the walkway to deposit Mr. Hollingsworth’s legs.
“I’m carrying most of the weight,” Roxburghe shot back as he laid Mr. Hollingsworth flat on the ground.
“Are you certain he’s still alive?” Silas asked, leaning over and poking Mr. Hollingsworth. “I dislike the notion of spending our afternoon carting around a deceased man.”
Crouching beside Silas, Roxburghe removed his glove and placed the back of his hand against Mr. Hollingsworth’s mouth. “He’s breathing.”
A moan slipped from Mr. Hollingsworth’s lips, and his eyelids fluttered open. His brown eyes focusing on Roxburghe’s face, Mr. Hollingsworth gave a tiny squeak and attempted to scramble backward, but his limbs failed him, and he collapsed.
“Please don’t kill me,” he begged, holding his arms in front of his face. “I did as you asked.”
“Which is why I’ve returned to release you,” Roxburghe replied, helping Mr. Hollingsworth into a sitting position and brushing icy bits of slush from the man’s thin shirt.
Mr. Hollingsworth blinked rapidly, his gaze swinging from Roxburghe to Silas. “I’m free?”
“‘Til you’re captured for another offense,” Silas said and held out his hand to drag Mr. Hollingsworth to his feet.
“If you think me guilty, why pay for my release?” Mr. Hollingsworth asked as he struggled to stand.
Roxburghe steadied him. “We know you’re innocent of the crime for which you were to be hanged, and the person who accused you has retracted her statement, claiming both you and her daughter were guiltless regarding the reported theft. I don’t forgive anything else you’ve done in your life, but I won’t hold you accountable for Mrs. Webb’s falsehoods.”
Tears dripped down Mr. Hollingsworth’s face. “How can I repay you, Your Grace?”
“You can return with us to my residence.” Silas appeared on the other side of Mr. Hollingsworth. “I’m hosting an event to celebrate His Grace’s engagement to Miss Webb.”
Body swaying, Mr. Hollingsworth paled. “Is her sister staying at your house as well?”
“She is,” Roxburghe replied, shooting a glower at Silas. “And you should know, her mother delivered the missive you wrote.”
“Did Miss Fernsby-Webb give an answer?” Mr. Hollingsworth asked, leaning against Roxburghe.
“Not to us.” Lifting Mr. Hollingsworth’s arm, Roxburghe draped the appendage across his shoulders. “However, before you demand a response from the lady, we should have a physician examine you.”