Page 56 of Avenging the Earl's Lady
Chapter 13
Kincaid disappeared into the corridor and came back supporting a slight figure.
Jane’s heart dropped.Guignard.He’d lost his hat, and blood poured from his wizened old head, running down his leathery cheek onto a torn neckcloth.
Madame helped him onto a chair, handed Jane the shears, and began dabbing at the blood with a cloth.“Were you followed, Henri?”
“Devil take it, Marie, of course, he was followed.”Kincaid turned on the shop girl.“Go and lock all the doors.Have one of the porters stand by and let only customers in.I’ll be right along.”
Madame nodded, and the girl hurried out.
“Lady Sirena, is your coach waiting outside?”he asked.
“It is.”
“I’ll ask you ladies to stay here for a bit and see to Guignard’s injuries.”
Kincaid vanished down the stairs.
“Some of that sherry,” Jane said, signaling Sirena.She nudged Madame and returned the scissors.“Go see to the shop, Madame.Barton, you too.Send a girl up with water and bandages.”
Sirena held the glass up to Guignard’s lips.“Drink this, sir.Do you have other injuries, besides the gash on your head?There now, don’t answer until you’ve taken another sip.Gracie, Madame keeps a bottle of Bakeley’s best brandy somewhere.Have a look, will you?”
Jane bent close to Guignard, examining his wounds.He had taken a blow to the head, and there were other cuts and bruises around his cheeks and jaw.He favored an arm, clasping a hand to support his elbow.
“I’m so very sorry,” Jane said.
The old man smiled, and she saw that one of his yellowing teeth had been broken.“It will take more than one of the Duque’s bullies to vanquish Henri Guignard.And I was not followed.”
“And what of the painting,” Graciela asked.“Did they take it?”
He shook his head, a cough rattling up while his face turned red.
“Help me move him to the sofa,” Jane said, “and have someone fetch a surgeon.”
“I’m beginning to think the painting is cursed,” Sirena said.
Her breath caught.“That it might bring bad luck to whoever transported it?”
“Yes.”
“It’s what I told Perry you would say.I fear you may be correct.”
Sirena shook her head fiercely.“Never say it.I’m only a fanciful Irishwoman.We shall find a way to turn any bad luck to good.”
“I cannot possibly goto the musicale tonight,” Jane said.
Madame removed a pin from her mouth.“You must.”
Noise filtered up from the shop into the empty parlor.Kincaid and Marie had engaged in a heated discussion in rapid French—who knew Kincaid could speak the language so fluently?—in the modiste’s private office, after which he’d sent for more guards, secured the premises, and escorted Lady Sirena and Graciela back to Shaldon House.Lady Sirena left on the promise that Jane would stay put at the shop until the Shaldon carriage came to convey her to the musicale, begging Jane to come home with them later to Shaldon House.
“Put out your arms.Eh bien.You will shine in this gown, my lady.Gros de Napleswith embroidered net over it—it is very fashionable now, and the pale rose becomes you.”She pulled on the skirts.“It is important to be out in society and to not show fear.Guignard will recover soon and cease to be mysterious.”
Guignard, who was now reclining in Madame’s bedchamber, following the surgeon’s order to rest, swore that the painting was safe and promised that all would be well.
When asked to give its location, he had fallen into grievous moaning.
“Would he play us false?”she asked.
