To Write a Wrong by Jen Turano

Author:Jen Turano
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical Fiction;FIC042110;FIC042030;FIC027360
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2021-06-29T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

Sixteen

A mere blink of an eye after Herman realized he’d actually been stabbed, he realized Daphne was in trouble.

Grabbing hold of her just before she hit the ground, he swept her into his arms, ignoring that his right arm was beginning to burn where the rapier had pierced his skin.

“Herman, have you taken leave of your senses? This is no time for chivalry. Set Miss Beekman down this instant so Dr. Gibbons can attend to you,” Mildred said, hurrying toward him, her face white as she held fast to Dr. Gibbons’s arm.

“I’m fine, Grandmother,” he reassured her. “It’s probably just a scratch. If you’ll excuse me, though, I need to get Daphne inside.”

“You’ll do no such thing.” Mildred gestured to Jay. “You can take Miss Beekman inside.”

Having absolutely no reason to trust any of his guests because, obviously, someone had tampered with the protective sleeve he’d attached to every rapier, nor would he have relinquished Daphne even if all of his guests weren’t now suspects, Herman shook his head at Jay, who was already holding out his arms. He then turned and found Ann standing beside Cooper, who was picking up the rapier Daphne had dropped. “Ann, will you get Daphne’s bag? We’re going to need her smelling salts.”

As Ann spun on her heel and raced away, Herman headed for the house, holding Daphne close.

Perkins was already holding the back door open, stepping aside as Herman strode through it. “Is the young lady all right, sir?” Perkins asked.

“She’s suffered a fit of the vapors.”

“How regrettable. Did she injure herself? There appears to be blood dripping on the marble.”

“The blood’s mine, not hers, and we’ll worry about the mess later. If you could bring me a basin of cold water and some cloths, I’ll be in the music room.”

Striding past Perkins, who was now looking at him in horror, Herman made his way down the back hallway and into the music room. He headed for the divan that was placed beside the piano, laying Daphne on it, concern flowing freely when he noticed the paleness of her face.

Placing his hand on her forehead, his concern increased when his touch met skin that was decidedly clammy.

“I found her bag. Give me a minute to find her smelling salts,” Ann said, rushing into the room. She dropped Daphne’s bag on the floor and began tossing out item after item as she searched for the smelling salts. “How does she fit all this in here, and why wouldn’t she keep her smelling salts on top of this mess? It seems like they’d be far more important than this book on poisonous plants.”

“Why would Miss Beekman need a book on poisonous plants in the first place?” Mildred asked, coming up behind Herman to peer over his shoulder. “Seems somewhat suspect. And why would she keep smelling salts in her bag? Most women of the world, as I’ve heard her proclaim to be numerous times, aren’t prone to swooning.”

“There’s nothing suspect about Daphne’s book because she’s an avid reader with diverse tastes.

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