Page 89 of Her Duke in Shining Armor
I swear on my life, Barns, your family will be taken care off.
He looked about for his shirt, waistcoat, and greatcoat but spotted his bloodied cravat on a table. The cloth was inundated with red, dried blood and looked stiff enough to poke someone’s eyes out.
“Your Grace!” a nurse said she came in. “You're awake, thank heavens.”
“And I must leave,” Aaron replied. He had to get to Eleanor. He wasn’t sure who had sent the man to kill him, it could be either Brisdane or Wyndrake, but he was not going to give either another shot to put him in the ground.
“Your Grace,” the nurse fidgeted on her spot. “I cannot stop you from leaving but a constable says that he needs to speak with you when you are awake.”
A constable? Oh. The man who I found did exactly what I asked. I hope this constable sent the message to Wilcox and he got Eleanor out of the city.
“May I send him in, Your Grace?”
“Yes,” Aaron said, “But I don’t have much time, he needs to make this quick, and send for the doctor to discharge me at the same time.”
“One moment, Your Grace,” she said with a wobbling curtsy before dashing out the door.
Aaron literally counted the seconds that passed and every one of them that passed irked him. He was about to curse, grab his coat and leave when the man came in. It was the same constable he had luckily stumbled on after the attack and just behind him was a man in a dingy white coat.
“Your Grace,” he bowed. “I’m Constable Coleman, I know your time is limited so I’ll get straight to it. Do you know the man who you captured?”
Aaron arched an eyebrow, “No, I don’t know him. Doctor, please go ahead.”
Coleman took out a small notebook and a pencil while the doctor unwrapped his arm. “Routine question, Your Grace. Onto suspects, then. Who might want you dead?”
“I can think of many people,” Aaron snorted. “But at the top of the list are the Duke of Brisdane who thinks I kidnapped his daughter and Wyndrake, who has been meddling in my business and personal affairs for far too long. Has the mercenary woken up yet?”
“Not to my knowledge,” the man replied. “He is still unconscious in the cell at the station but when he comes to, we will find out who he works for.”
“Align with Inspector Harding on the matter of Wyndrake,” Aaron said while the bandage was pulled off completely. The stitched-up wound was angry red but there was no sign of pus or any infection. Aaron grimaced lightly as the doctor pressed on the area lightly, and then reached for a jar. He coated the laceration with salve and then rebandaged it with a new roll cloth.
“I must leave you now. I have funeral arrangements to make for a staff member of mine.”
“Your Grace,” Coleman said. “Please allow me to escort you home. A reprisal may come sooner than you think.”
“They would be foolish to do so but it would thoughtless of me to refuse,” Aaron added.
“And we may have to place guards around your home,” Coleman added.
“For how long?”
“Until we can apprehend the mastermind behind the shooting,” Coleman explained. “This matter is not one to be taken lightly, Your Grace, and it will be even worse if another of your rank is involved.”
Hell’s teeth, this might take days and weeks—time I don’t have. How is Eleanor going to survive with Maria for all that time?
“Did you send the message to Constable Wilcox?” Aaron asked as the doctor helped him into this shirt and waistcoat.
“Yes, Your Grace,” Coleman affirmed. “That was the first thing I did after securing the man into the station.”
It was not much but it was all Aaron could hang onto at the moment. At least Eleanor would be safe for a while.
* * *
The Seven Dials was just as Eleanor remembered it—poor, dirty and the atmosphere of dismay that blanketed the town threatened to suck every breath of optimism she had out of her body. What was left of her optimism after Aaron’s situation and knowing about her mother, that was.
She arrived at the Briks’ home with Darcy’s loaned clothes and a basket full of food. Eleanor stood silently as Mr. Wilcox knocked on the door and Maria answered it. The child’s eyes darted from her to the man standing beside her and before fear could set in, Eleanor spoke.
“It’s alright, Maria. Mr. Wilcox is a friend.”
