Page 28 of A Lady's Dangerous Secret
“You’ll never dishonor another woman again,” he said.
The blackguard paused his bungled attempt to lift Charlotte’s skirt and looked up at James. His eyes narrowed after he saw the pistol trained on him. “You?—”
James yanked the man off Charlotte with his free hand and threw him to the ground.
Boom.
The man crumpled, and James turned away, cold and unfeeling.
Charlotte stared at him with a mix of disbelief, fear, and shock on her beautiful face. Blood trickled down her neck.
“Damnation! Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asked. He quickly ran his hands over her body, which was mostly covered in a cloak, and then looked at her throat. He knew the wound was not deep; she was still breathing, and the blood was not spurting from the vessels in her neck. From what he could tell, it was in fact a shallow cut. James searched Charlotte’s face, and he saw an empty look in her eyes.
Shock was setting in.
James reached underneath her dress. His hands rummaged around until he felt her petticoats. He ripped off a strip of fabric and pressed it to Charlotte’s neck. He lifted her hand to the cloth.
“Hold this,” he ordered. She left her hand in place and stared blankly ahead. James was used to her sharp tongue, which made the silence unsettling. A stirring in the mews caught James’s attention. The gunshot had likely awoken the stableboys. James needed to get Charlotte out of there.
He scooped her up, suddenly realizing her lightness. She had such a bold personality that it often made James forget she was quite small in comparison to him. With her clutched to his body, James rushed down the alleyway and back toward the hackney. He reasoned that the best place to take her was their original destination: Gabe’s mistress’s town house.
He knew Charlotte was alive, but her silence caused his mind to play tricks on him and doubt her wellness. He reached the hired carriage and maneuvered inside and positioned her on his lap. He shouted the address and added, “Go! Quickly!”
To James, the hackney could not move quickly enough. He had never been the religious sort, what with his life seeming likean endless hell, yet now, his curses were intermixed with prayers for Charlotte’s safety. He would go to church every day and twice on Sunday if it meant the woman he loved would be well.
James pressed her closer to his body, and his heart skipped a beat as he felt Charlotte tuck her head into his chest. Her hand still held the fabric at her throat. Maybe there was a God after all. He would take any improvement in her condition as a sign of hope. The gravity of what he had just thought wormed its way into James’s mind.
Love? Did James really tell himself he loved Charlotte? The hackney made a turn, and he instinctively pulled Charlotte closer to his body.
It could not be.
She was being courted by a duke, and for James to think there could be anything between them was futile. He was a lowly naval officer, who was a bastard per his uncle and did not deserve to be within five feet of Charlotte.
But he could not deny what he felt, especially after seeing her in that glorious rage with a pistol trained on another man’s head.
Guilt surfaced.
It was his own fault she was put into this situation. She was bleeding from her neck and in shock. If James had not proposed this late-night tryst, she would never have been out near the mews.
But one question nagged at James. Was the ruffian there by chance or was this a targeted attack? Charlotte seemed to be running from something, and he had a gut feeling it was no coincidence that a nefarious man lurked outside her home.
Mayhap he should not feel guilty and instead feel thankful he was there to save her. The shock on Charlotte’s face before she could pull the trigger was undeniable. James was glad he could do the deed himself. He had never been innocent—his uncleswore he was born in sin, after all, so what was another death on his hands?
It was nothing.
James’s ruminations were broken when the hackney slowed down a few streets away from Gabe’s town house. Despite the urgency of getting Charlotte inside, he had to make sure no one saw her; otherwise, she would be ruined. If James did not deserve her before, he certainly was not worthy of her now, and could not risk her being forced to marry him. James gave the driver his payment and hurried along until they reached Gabe’s property.
James opened the rear garden gate and made his way to the back of the house. He had to ensure there would be no cause for tongues to wag. He eased open the door as quietly as he could while supporting Charlotte’s body with his other arm. Gabe had told him his staff was tight-lipped and loyal to a fault, all necessary characteristics when housing a member of theton’s mistress.
James hurried up the servants’ stairs from the basement to the ground level. The butler appeared.
“Dawson?” James said.
“Yes, Captain. We’ve been expecting you.” Dawson did not bat an eye while James held a limp woman in his arms.
“I need water, clean rags, bandages, brandy, and some cheap alcohol. Lady Charlotte has been injured.” This time, there was a flicker of emotion on the butler’s face before he smartly turned on his heel to retrieve the requested items.
James addressed a maid hovering nearby, “I’m taking Lady Charlotte upstairs.” The maid’s head bobbed, and she grabbed a chamberstick to lead him up the central staircase.
