Page 83 of The Vagabond Viscount
Augusta glanced down at the top of her bodice. It was tight, and she suspected it wouldn’t be too much longer before she wouldn’t fit any of her clothes. “That would be lovely.”
Searching through gowns that she could repurpose for her pregnancy would take her mind off the other issue which concentrated her thoughts, that of Flynn and how things were going at Bramshaw House. The sooner he returned, and she knew he was safe, the better.
ChapterFifty-One
Shouting followed by the echo of boots on the staircase had Lady Anne dropping the gown she held in her hands and rushing for the door. Augusta followed her mother out of the dressing room and into the hall.
Lord Stephen Kembal appeared at the top of the stairs and caught Augusta’s eye. “Flynn’s been stabbed.”
“No!” cried Augusta.
Not again. Not now. After everything they had been through, fate couldn’t be so cruel.
She dashed for the stairs. Reaching the bottom, she stepped aside as her father, Gideon, and Christopher Cadnam carried Flynn in through the front door. Her gaze went to her husband, and for a brief moment, her heart skipped a beat.
Flynn glanced over at her and gave his wife a tentative smile. “It’s just a couple of flesh wounds—the bloody mess on my shirt makes it seem worse than it is.” He spoke through gritted teeth, and it was clear he was in a great deal of pain.
Please, Lord, don’t take him from me. Not after all we have been through.
The men headed up the stairs.
To her relief, the doctor who had been summoned to confirm her pregnancy arrived at that minute. The duchess quickly instructed him to follow her as she made her way to the staircase.
Stephen came and put a comforting arm around his sister. “He’s alive, G. That’s a good start.”
Augusta forced a tight smile to her lips. Her brother was right; Flynn was alive. And he was conscious. She had to hold onto those two good signs while praying that her husband was right about it only being a flesh wound.
“He was going to see his father this morning. To retrieve his things. What on earth must have happened?”
Upstairs, while the doctor worked stitching Flynn’s wounded chest and arm, the others gathered out in the hallway. Augusta wanted to be with her husband, but Flynn had shooed her away, asking that the physician be allowed to work in peace.
“What the devil did Earl Bramshaw do? I am assuming this is his vile handiwork,” demanded the duke.
Christopher Cadnam nodded. “We went to Bramshaw House to retrieve Flynn’s things. His father attacked him. But unlike the first time the earl tried to murder my cousin, Flynn was armed. He defended himself.”
He closed his eyes and gave a deep sigh. “Ronald Cadnam is dead. Flynn is now Earl Bramshaw.”
The room began to spin, and Augusta clutched at the air. Her mind had only caught the words Flynn and dead.
Flynn. Dead. Not again.
Strong arms caught her.
It was a good few minutes before she was able to open her eyes. When she did, Augusta found herself lying on her sister Victoria’s bed. Her mother was seated next to her. “Flynn, she is awake,” announced the duchess.
“Are you alright, my love?” he asked. Augusta lifted her head and caught a glimpse of Flynn. Her husband was alive.
Oh, thank god.
He waved to her from across the room, where he lay on her bed. The doctor was busy wrapping a bandage around Flynn’s chest, assisted by Stephen. Her father and Christopher were nowhere to be seen.
Lady Anne patted her daughter’s hand. “Your father and Christopher have gone back to Bramshaw House. The authorities will need to be informed, and the body of the late earl seen to by a physician.”
“I want to sit up,” said Augusta. She slowly rose, aided by her mother.
On the other side of the room, Flynn was being propped up by a pile of pillows which had been stuffed behind his back. Apart from the pained expression on his face, he actually appeared to be alright. It was only when she caught a glimpse of his bloodied shirt on the floor that Augusta was reminded that he had been badly wounded. That she had nearly lost him a second time.
“There. Now you need to stay in bed for the next few days, Lord Bramshaw. No sudden movements, or the stitches won’t take,” said the doctor.
