Page 81 of The Devil in Oxford
“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. Let me see to you, mmm?” I shifted his weight onto my lap, unfastening his uniform jacket and assessing the gunshot wound. It was only the one—on the side of his belly. Dark blood oozed out over his stained fingers. I reached down, placing the hem of my dress in between my teeth, and ripped hard until I had a large wad of fabric in my hands. I laid it over the wound and applied pressure. “There we go. We’ll hold this here until we can get you help.”
He opened his eyes and blinked at me uncertainly. “I didn’t think you were working with Laurent, miss. Not really. I didn’t care what they said.”
I gave him a faint smile. “At least someone had faith in me, Jack.”
He laid his bloodied hand over mine and squeezed, breaking my heart. He was young. Scarcely older than Ruan had been when he left Oxford. Far too young to die. “Reaver… he told me to not come. Said he had tonight’s assignment handled with the captain.”
The captain?
“All clear upstairs.” An eerily familiar voice rang out, and before I knew what was happening, a large black Labrador bounded over and gave me a single lick on the cheek. It whimpered, lowering its head to Jack’s hand, and nuzzled it. Jack smiled at the big dog.
“’Allo, Shadow. That’s a good lad…” His bloodied other hand rested atop the dog’s ebony head. Shadow let out a high-pitched whimper, laying his large body alongside his human, and lifted his head to watch me, big brown eyes pleading.
Not an omen of death after all. At least I hoped not.
My hands were soaked with Jack’s blood as I watched the man coming down the stairs. The same man I’d seen outside the Covered Market. Hari had been right.As usual.The Royal Flying Corps officer was older now—weren’t we all—his golden hair longer, neatly styled back beneath his fashionable homburg. The yearsbetween now and then disappeared and it was as if I was staring at a ghost. An echo of the man who had held that dying soldier in his lap on the long road back to Amiens. The same man that matron told me did not exist. The man I could have sworn I had seen all over Oxford, trailing me. Watching me. He was no ghost. He was real. Flesh and bone and walking toward me. His thick woolen military-style coat reached his knees, and he wore the exhaustion of a decade on his face. The aviator was just as handsome now as he’d been back then when we first met. The gash beneath his eye that he’d ignored for all those miles as he held the dying man in his arms had healed now to a jagged raised pink scar, partially hidden by his short-cropped beard. It was no wonder Hari recognized him right away—I would have known him in a heartbeat as well.
This man must be the “captain” that Jack had mentioned. The aviator’s keen eyes caught mine and he flashed me a weary smile. “Hello again, Miss Vaughn. I’m terribly glad you’re not dead.”
“Sorry, Captain…” Jack said, looking up at the man.
Jack’s blood soaked through my bandage onto my palm. “Help him.”
“They’re on their way,” he said softly. “I’ve seen to the two upstairs. I assume the big one is yours.”
Ruan.One less thing to worry about, I supposed. I nodded.
“And Leona?” Reaver asked as he finished binding Professor Laurent and walked over to join us. He crouched down on the carpet to lay a tender hand on Jack’s shoulder and gave him a squeeze, before ruffling the dog’s fur.
The edge of the scarred man’s mouth quirked up. “Yes, yours is up there too, Freddie.”
Jack looked up at me with a frown. “I tried to help you, miss. The inspector… he killed Mr. Mueller. I told the captain what happened…”
“You did do well, Jack. I suspect a promotion will be in your future if you can keep yourself from dying.” The scarred mancrouched down on the floor across from me. He stroked Jack’s hair with a frightening solemnity. The faint scent of petrol and pipe smoke permeated his jacket. For the second time in my life this man had crossed my path, and for the second time I found myself lost. Confused and questioning my own sanity. He had been constantly two steps ahead of me. He must have been the reason my mind flicked back to the war every time I got close. The faint scent of him, achingly familiar from those hours we’d spent in the lorry on the way back to Amiens. Familiar enough to recall, but not quite enough to remember.
“You’re the one they call captain?” I asked softly. “Jack was working for you…”
He nodded with a sad expression. “My office had been watching Laurent for months now, waiting for him to make his move. Jack has been particularly useful monitoring the inspector. I met the lad during the war. He’s been my very shadow ever since. As has this great brute.” The captain looked fondly at the large black Labrador lying on the floor beside us.
Jack let out a pained sound, but I could not help but see the pride in his young eyes. I swallowed hard, struggling to keep up with the revelations, and yet it all made perfect sense. I wasn’t going mad at all—I only possessed half the facts.
The scarred man—thecaptain—rubbed his jaw with the back of his sleeve, an almost apologetic look on his face. “There was some question on whether Laurent had become a threat to the crown with some of his other activities. With the frequency at which you’d been to his house—and then your Cornishman spending so much time here… I am sorry, Miss Vaughn, but we believed you were in league with him as well. Especially once Leona disappeared. Jack believed you innocent, but… I suppose the lad was right after all.”
“I don’t care about any of that, Jack needs a doctor!” I insisted. His pulse was slowing under my hand. My voice grew panicked.
“Let me take care of my man,” the captain said tenderly, lifting Jack’s hand from mine and reaching for the cloth I was pressing against the bullet wound. “A few of my lads are on the way. Things just happened here a bit faster than I was anticipating. They’ll be in soon to get him to the hospital. I promise you, Miss Vaughn, I’ve not lost a man yet—and I don’t aim to start tonight.”
“And the American? The one I helped bring back to the hospital for you during the war?” I asked, alluding to that fateful day along the Western Front, with that poor soldier who’d been missing half his face.
He gave a wistful smile. “Living in Iowa now, married to his sweetheart, with two children. As I said, I do not let my men down, Miss Vaughn. No matter the odds. I assure you of that. Jack’s a good lad, we’ll see him through this. Won’t we, Jack?”
My shoulders relaxed slightly as I allowed the scarred man to place his hand over mine on the bloody cloth. “You were in the woods tonight with us too. You’re the one that blew up the canal boat.” It wasn’t quite an accusation, but it wasn’tnotone either.
He lowered his golden lashes and sniffed. “I did what had to be done tonight. As did you.” He gestured dismissively to the bound form of Laurent lying on the floor. “You’ve done the crown a service. It is a debt that will need to be repaid.” He gave me a meaningful look. “Go see Freddie in the morning at the museum. Tell no one what’s happened here tonight. It will be well, I promise you that, Miss Vaughn.”
I stared at him unblinking. “Tomorrow is Christmas Day… the museum will be closed.”
He gave me a wink. “You and I know locks have never stopped you. Let me see to my man, you go see to yours.”
