Page 77 of A Duke Under Her Spell
“I will bear witness that you acted in self-defense, and in the defense of myself and your sister. No judge in his right mind would fault you for that,” Felix promised. His heart went out to the man.
“Patricide is highly frowned upon by the English courts. We shall see.”
“It was not murder, Alexander. Do not doubt your actions, or bear guilt that is not yours to bear.”
“I do not regret my actions and would do so again in an instant. Even if it meant I would hang for it upon the morrow.”
“It will not come to that,” Felix promised.
“Until we meet again,” Alexander bowed to Felix, then reached down and caressed his sister’s cheek. “Take good care of her, Your Grace, for you hold within your arms the most precious gift in all of England.”
“You will return to us soon and aid in her care. Do not doubt it,” Felix answered reassuringly. Alexander nodded, then turned and disappeared into the night.
Oliver continued to pump water over Felix and Marybeth. The trough filled with water and overflowed onto the ground, streaming across the hard-packed earth. Felix remained in the trough with Marybeth for a long time. He could feel the skin on his hands and feet wrinkling. Gooseflesh broke out across his body and he began to shiver in the cool night air, but he stayed with her, ensuring that she remained above the water.
Marybeth shivered uncontrollably, sloshing about in the water. She began to fight back against the stream of water flowing over her face. “Shhh,” Felix soothed as he held her fast. “I am sorry, my love, but we must do this.”
Delirious with fever, his voice did not make any difference to Marybeth’s frantic state. She was not coherent and unable to comprehend what was happening. “No,” she cried out over and over. “You hurt my mother. I will kill you for that.”
“She thinks that you are her father,” Oliver noted shaking his head in concern. “She knows not what she says. The fever has addled her wits.”
“Marybeth, it is I, Felix. Come back to me, my love,” Felix soothed, knowing it was all for naught until they were able to reduce her temperature. He caressed the wet hair back from her face and continued to speak reassuringly into her ear.
They went on like this for some time before the fever finally broke. Dawn lit up the sky and in its early grey light, Felix could see that the trough water had been tinged pink with blood. “She has broken open her bandaging in the struggle,” he remarked as he stood on shaky legs to carry her back into the house.
“Your hand is bleeding again as well, Your Grace,” Oliver remarked motioning with his head toward Felix’s offending appendage. “It is certain that each of your blood has entered the other’s wound.”
“Blood of my blood and flesh of my flesh,” Felix murmured gazing down into the unconscious face of the woman he loved more than all else.
Oliver nodded in agreement. “And you are hers.”
Chapter 35
When Marybeth awoke, she found herself surrounded by a wall of men. Felix, Oliver, Mr. Wheatly, and all seven of her surviving brothers stood with matching troubled expressions. Pain shot through her abdomen and she reached up to find herself covered in bandages. Her mind was fuzzy, and she attempted to remember what had brought her to such a state. “What has happened?” she asked attempting to sit up but failed.
“You were shot by the Earl of Bredon,” Felix answered, coming to sit beside her. He took her hand in his and kissed it tenderly. “What is the last thing you remember?”
Marybeth closed her eyes in pain as everything came rushing back. “What happened after I was shot?”
“Are you certain that you are up for such a gruesome tale? Perhaps you should rest a bit more?” Mr. Wheatly suggested handing her a cup of water.
“No, I want to know.” Turning to Felix she asked, “Did you get him? Did you get the Earl of Bredon?”
“Yes, he is with the magistrate now. He and his men will be swinging at the end of a rope very soon,” Felix answered, rubbing his thumb comfortingly over the back of her hand.
“And Lord Enfield?” She could not bring herself to refer to him as her father.
“He is dead,” Alexander answered stepping forward to stand at her feet. “I killed him.”
“Good,” Marybeth replied. Relief washed over her entire being at the news. “I am sorry that it had to be you, Alexander, but I cannot deny that I am greatly pleased that he has finally met his end.”
Alexander nodded his head in acknowledgement of her words. “As am I.”
“The magistrate is aware of all that transpired?” she asked concerned for Alexander’s safety.
“There was a clear case for defense, so no one will be charged for Lord Enfield’s death,” Felix explained. “Or should I say, the former Lord Enfield,” nodding in acknowledgement of Alexander’s new title.
“So much death leading to a title I have never wanted,” Alexander admitted, shaking his head.
