Ruined by the Ton by Royal Emily

Author:Royal, Emily
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Historical
Publisher: Dragonblade Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2023-01-12T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Beatrice hadn’t expected the recoil to be so strong. Her arm jerked back, and she dropped the pistol, which clattered to the floor. Through the puff of smoke that made her eyes sting, she saw her husband crumple to the floor.

Dear God, what had she done?

She leaped out of the bed and kneeled beside him. “Augustus,” she said. “Augustus!”

He let out a groan and opened his eyes. “What the devil?” He lifted his head, then groaned again. “Good grief, woman, you shot me!”

“Where did I hit you?” She forced the tremor from her voice, fighting the terror that swelled in the back of her mind.

“My arm,” he said. He moved his left arm, then cried out. “Fuck! That hurts.”

“Then I’d advise you to keep it still.”

She rose to her feet, and he reached for her ankle.

“I said—don’t move!” she hissed. “I must light a candle so I can check your wound. Though, judging by your complaining, I’d say you’ve not been hurt too badly. Those who complain the loudest are almost always the better off.”

“What’s happened to you, Beatrice?” he asked. “Since when did you become so hard?”

Since the day you abandoned me.

Choosing not to respond, she reached for the silver tinder box she kept on the mantelshelf and struck it twice, until a spark ignited its contents. Then she blew on the embers until a small flame appeared, and held a candle to it. Once lit, she placed the candle in a holder and returned to her husband.

“Can you stand?” she asked. “I need to look at your arm.”

He looked up at her, his silver eyes glittering in the candlelight.

She should have recognized those eyes as soon as she saw them tonight, behind his mask. Lord Julian Stiles—the mysterious man Edward Pennington had brought as his guest—did not exist.

She held the candle up and gave a sigh of relief as she caught sight of a bullet hole in the door. It must have passed cleanly through the flesh. Some of her fear receded, though her heart still thudded at the notion of what might have been…

He struggled to his feet, and she caught his uninjured arm to steady him, then led him to the armchair by the fireplace.

“Thank you.”

His quiet words threatened to release the tears pooling in her eyes. But now was not the time for sentiment. Sentiment led to weakness—the past two years had taught her that. Action was the only way to survive.

She placed the candle beside the chair, then took hold of his left wrist.

“Stay still,” she said, “so I can look at the wound.”

He sat back, like an obedient child, while she peeled back his sleeve until the wound came into view.

A shallow groove ran along the flesh of his arm, but, though the sleeve was soaked with blood, the bleeding seemed to be stopping.

She rose and approached the dressing table where she kept a decanter of brandy, then she opened the drawer and pulled out a petticoat. Grasping it between her teeth, she tore off several strips, then returned to the chair.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.