Seduced in Secret: Distinguished Rogues, book 18 by Boyd Heather

Author:Boyd, Heather
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Heather Boyd
Published: 2021-12-07T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Charlotte was almost asleep when a scratch at her door woke her. “What is it,” she grumbled, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

“Miss, there is a situation downstairs,” their butler, Davis, whispered through the door. “You must hurry!”

Charlotte flew out of bed and threw a wrapper over her nightgown and shoved her feet into her slippers. “Is it Mama? Did she take another fall?”

“Your mother is sound asleep still. I thought it best not to rouse her,” the butler confided.

Charlotte hurried into the hall and shut the door behind her quietly. “Did Father cut himself with his penknife again and drip blood on her notes? The last time he was beside himself for ruining those precious words.”

“No, miss, this does not concern your father, but there is blood. A stranger is at the door and is demanding to see only you,” Davis warned. “He would only say he’s Winston.”

“Winston? Here?” Charlotte flew ahead of the butler and peered down the dark staircase at the entrance hall below. Yes, there was Lord Hurlston, standing in a pool of candlelight, leaning against a wall in her home. She nearly fainted to see him at this time of night but rushed downstairs to meet him, wondering why on earth he would call.

When she got closer, she saw the blood the butler had mentioned splatted all over his clothes; his hands and face were smeared with it, too. She approached him slowly.

He lifted his head and met her gaze with a deep sigh. “At last.”

She drew closer, reaching out, but was terrified to touch him. “What happened?”

“You were right,” he said, setting his head back against the wall. “Someone shot at me. I ran.”

She gulped and put her fingertips lightly on his chest. “You ran? From where?”

“Perhaps we had best get the gentleman into a chair first, miss, before you question him?”

“I feel fine,” Winston promised. A ridiculous statement, given the way he looked. “Didn’t try to fight them this time as you warned me not to do. I heard you in my head, and I ran here to tell you—you were right. I think someone wants me dead now, too.”

With the butler’s help, she guided Winston to a chaise near a smoldering fire and urged him to sit down. She could not see a wound in the firelight but there was so much blood everywhere, there was no doubt he was wounded. He seemed dazed, too, and as the butler lit candles about the room, she saw the pupils of his eyes were huge. “I’d say they almost succeeded.”

“No. No. I ran away, so they couldn’t get me,” he promised, raking a hand through his hair. It came away bloodier than it had been, which had been bad to start with.

Charlotte caught the earl’s wrist and held his hand up before his face. “Winston, there’s blood and it’s all over you.”

He blinked several time. “How did that get there?”

“I’d say from the wound on your head,” the butler murmured. “If I may take a look?” he asked quietly.

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