The Scandals of an Innocent by Nicola Cornick

Author:Nicola Cornick [Cornick, Nicola]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance
ISBN: 9780373773893
Publisher: HQN
Published: 2009-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

IT WAS SNOWING AGAIN by the time that Miles reached the Granby—big white flakes this time that obscured the view and would, he knew, already have covered over any evidence of footprints on Fortune Row. In the private parlor he found Nat Waterhouse and Dexter Anstruther encamped before a roaring fire.

“Not looking quite your usual immaculate self, old chap,” Dexter said by way of greeting. “Nat’s filled me in on what has happened. You’re unhurt?”

“Completely,” Miles said. He stripped off his gloves and crossed to the fire to warm his hands.

“And Miss Lister?” Nat asked. “That looked like a nasty scratch on her arm.”

“She was cold and shaken but she refused to see a doctor,” Miles said. “She’s a most remarkable woman.” He saw Nat and Dexter exchange a glance. “What?” he demanded testily.

“Nothing at all,” Dexter said smoothly. “Do you need a drink?”

“Just coffee,” Miles said. “Strong.”

He took a cup and sank into one of the armchairs with a deep sigh. He had faced many situations in his career that were far more dangerous than the one that he and Alice had been in and yet in some obscure way the incident had shaken him far more than it ought to have done. Alice’s tense white face was before his eyes; he could see the blood seeping from between her gloved fingers as she had tried to stem the flow from the bullet wound. She had been terrified and yet so calm, when many women would have succumbed to the vapors or worse. He had been right in thinking her valiant.

Would I had the right to protect her….

When he had seen that she had been shot, terror had grabbed him by the throat in a way he had never experienced before. He had known fear many times in his life. Only a fool or a madman would deny that they were afraid in battle or when they were on the wrong end of a gun. But the fear he had felt for Alice had been different. It had been a dread of losing something he had barely found, a horror that something immeasurably important was about to be snatched from him before he had even had chance to grasp it properly. It was probably a dread of losing Alice’s money, he told himself, but nevertheless a feeling stirred within him that was strange and unfamiliar. He cleared his throat abruptly and put down his cup with a sharp snap.

“Did you have a chance to discover any evidence on the Row before the snow came down again?” he asked Nat.

Nat nodded. “There were footprints in the snow around Seven Acre Covert. I took some measurements. He was a big man with a firm tread. There had been a horse there, as well. The distance from where your carriage was situated was about two hundred yards.”

“No great distance for an accurate marksman,” Dexter observed.

“He wasn’t very accurate,” Miles said. “He missed three times.” He turned to Nat. “Would you have missed at that distance?”

Nat shook his head slowly.

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