Page 59 of A Kiss to Stop a Wedding
‘He is unconscious,’ she said, trying to speak calmly.
‘Looks like he’s taken a shot through the arm,’ observed Amos, standing over her.
‘Yes. It will be easier if we remove his coats before we turn him.’
She worked the heavy coat off his shoulders and eased the sleeve down his injured arm, then did the same with his evening coat, exposing a billowing shirtsleeve, soaked with blood. She saw a small hole in the material and, biting her lip to steady her nerves, she used her fingers to tear it wider, revealing the bullet wound beneath.
Flora dragged the fichu from her neck to make a pad against the wound.
‘Amos, give me your neckcloth. We must bind up his arm.’
As soon as the makeshift bandage was secure, she asked Amos to help her turn the unconscious man. Together they carefully shifted Matt on to his back, his coat and greatcoat beneath him. Blinking away a tear, Flora gently removed the leafy debris that was stuck to his face. There was a bruise blooming on his temple where his head had fallen upon a protruding stone, but a careful examination of his clothes show no other signs of blood.
A shift in the wind direction sent a chill breeze along the road and Flora shivered.
‘His clothes are wet; he will be growing chilled out here. We must get him into the carriage and take him to Whilton. But carefully, we do not know if he has any internal injuries.’ She looked around. ‘Ask John Coachman to come and help us.’
The footman hurried off and she looked doubtfully at Matt’s large, solid frame. Even with three of them, how would they ever manage to carry him safely to the coach?
A movement in the shadows caught her eye and she looked up.
‘Jepps! Whatever are you—no! Don’t you dare runaway!’ she charged him, in her sternest voice. ‘Come here.’
The man approached slowly, his face haggard. Flora stared at the rifle he was carrying in one hand.
‘You…youdid this?’ she demanded, horrified.
‘I didn’t want to,’ he muttered, his voice breaking. ‘His Lordship ordered me. I told him I couldn’t, but he said he’d have me whipped and turned off if I didn’t do as he said.’
Matt was stirring. Commanding Jepps not to go away, Flora looked down at him.
‘Don’t move,’ she said. ‘You have been shot.’
‘Aye, the villain winged me. The devil of it is I came off Magpie.’
‘The mare is still here,’ she assured him. ‘Keep still now, you have lost a lot of blood.’
‘Nothing a good night’s rest won’t cure.’ He tried to sit up and fell back, his face twisted in pain. ‘Confound it! I fell on my bad leg,’ he gasped. ‘Can’t get up.’
She placed one hand against his chest. ‘Then do not try. We will carry you.’
Matt was not listening. His attention had switched to the groundskeeper.
‘Jepps, isn’t it?’ The man nodded silently and Matt’s eyes fell to the rifle. ‘Was it you who shot me?’
‘Lord Whilton ordered him to do it,’ said Flora.
‘The devil he did!’ exclaimed the coachman, who had come up with Amos.
Matt kept his eyes on Jepps. ‘Then why the deuce are you still here?’ he demanded.
‘Miss Warenne told me to stay.’
‘Aye, and we’d’ve caught ’im soon enough if he’d run off,’ muttered the footman, taking the rifle away from Jepps.
‘We need him to help get you into the carriage,’ she explained.
‘As simple as that!’
