Page 48 of The Colonel's Ungovernable Governess
“You learned all that?” Victoria asked with a bit of awe.
Vincent nodded his appreciation of his sister’s praise, but Jocelyn knew he blushed. “And more,” he said softly.
“Well, we have all been properly schooled by a boy,” Jennings said with a sweep of his hand in the direction of the house. “May we now go in out of the sun? As Mr. Darcy has suggested, you must lead the way, Vincent.”
Jocelyn heard the boy gulp. “Just as if we are walking to the stables,” she said under her breath.
There were tears misting his eyes when he looked up to her. Yet, he performed as they had previously practiced. “Miss Lambert,” he managed to say, though his voice was not as clear as when he spoke of his family history, “would you care to view my family home?”
Jocelyn curtsied. “I would be honored, my lord.”
They walked through those gathered outside. All stepped to the side to permit them passage, that is to say, all except Mr. Jennings. However, viewing the others in their party had followed precedence, he turned to offer his arm to Lady Annabelle. Mr. Darcy caught Victoria’s hand, but Jocelyn noticed how the colonel appeared to wait for the others to proceed him. She knew that to be something of his nature, but as the son of an earl, it should have been him following directly behind Vincent.
Jocelyn was considering asking of the infamous “Mr. Bartholomew’s” absence, when a movement off to the right drew her attention. “No!” She reacted just as a shot rang out. Instinctively, she leaped to the side to cover Vincent with her body, drawing him before her as she spun. A heat like she had never experience previously entered her back and traveled upward through her shoulder to exit as she collapsed on top of the boy.
Chapter Eighteen
For a few precious seconds, Edward remained as frozen as the others, that is, all but Darcy, who was comforting Victoria while he knelt beside Miss Lambert. “You are well,” his cousin assured Victoria, as he checked Miss Lambert’s condition. “Colonel!” Darcy snapped. “I require you.”
His cousin’s plea brought Edward from his enervation, which had held him in place, and he was immediately at Darcy’s side. “What need have you of me?” he asked, worried whether the woman who haunted his dreams had been snatched away before he could tell her how much he loved and admired her. She was eerily still, and, although she was still breathing, he worried whether the bullet had hit something vital to her survival.
“Carry Miss Lambert inside, while I calm the children. I will follow momentarily. Practice caution. The wound appears to have an entrance and an exit.”
“Is Vincent injured also?” Edward asked as he gently picked up the woman from the ground. “Send for a surgeon.” He glanced to where Jennings had not moved from his spot. Edward wondered whether the man’s expression was of disbelief or pleasure or of a mix thereof.
As he carried the woman who owned his heart through the door, he heard Darcy barking orders for Annabelle and Victoria to shush their hysterics while he was comforting Vincent. “I have you, boy. You are well. The blood comes from . . .”
Edward did not want Miss Lambert to hear Darcy say the blood came from her, so he quick-stepped towards the stairs. “You must set your mind, my girl, to survive this,” he whispered against her temple as he boosted her higher in his arms. Quickly, he was in the guest wing before he realized he had no idea where to house her, so he carried her to his quarters. He would move elsewhere. Supporting her on the edge of the bed, he jerked the blanket and sheets from the way.
“Colonel,” she groaned. “I must . . . tell you . . .”
“There is nothing to say, my girl,” he told her as he situated her on the bed. He grabbed a towel to place under her back and held a second one tightly against her shoulder.
Within seconds, Darcy burst through the still open door. “The children are in my quarters. I sent servants to fetch water and clean cloths. Mr. Jessie is on his way to the village to fetch a surgeon or whatever is available, and I sent Mr. Farrin on my horse to fetch Elizabeth. Miss Lambert will require a proper lady to tend her.”
“You’ve taken care of it all,” Edward said with a scowl.
“Not all. I did not go after the culprit. I thought such should be your domain. After all, the man shot the woman you affect,” his cousin declared.
“Who says I affect Miss Lambert?” Edward argued as he tugged Darcy to the side in case the woman could hear them.
“Your face says it every time you look upon her. You wear the same look you accused me of sporting at Rosings Park when Elizabeth visited with the Collinses.”
“Colonel,” a voice called from the other side of the adjoining door.
Edward reached for the door to expose a bloody and dirtied Vincent. “Could . . . I sit . . . in . . . Miss Lambert’s . . . room? She will . . . not die . . . if we . . . all watch . . . over her.”
He thought to respond in the negative to the boy, but Darcy intervened. “I must clean Miss Lambert’s wound first, but you may return after you permit the housekeeper to clean and bandage your arm. Are you injured elsewhere?”
The boy looked towards the bed and the body of the woman who had changed all their lives. “We need . . . Miss Lambert,” he said emphatically.
“I know, boy,” the colonel said, “and she needs you, but not looking bloody and covered in dirt. It would worry her to see you so. Go change, and then you may return.”
“Yes, sir.” The boy reluctantly reentered the adjoining room.
“Here is the hot water you ordered, Mr. Darcy,” the housekeeper said as she entered the room.
“Thank you, Mrs. Murray. Could you oversee Lord Vincent? The boy has a small wound on his upper arm. I am confident it came from the bullet, and it should be cleaned thoroughly and bandaged. Hopefully, nothing more is required. I believe it a graze.”
