Page 108 of Marigold and the Marquess
She let out a sob. “I didn’t mean to kill him.”
“Sterling, take this damn rifle.” He then turned to Romulus. “Watch him carefully, he’s dangerous and may be faking.”
Romulus felt for a pulse, and then began to check his cousin’s body for weapons. “No, Leo. He’s dead as a doornail.”
Marigold struggled to catch her breath. “Oh…I did kill him.”
“As anyone else in their right mind would have done,” Leo insisted. “But you didn’t kill him.”
Mallow was now leaping up and down beside them.
“I don’t believe it.” Romulus inhaled sharply and then looked up at them. “Marigold, it is as Leo said. You missed him completely. The only shot that hit its mark was mine, and I only got him in the leg. He must have tripped over a rock or something. The blow to the head when he fell is what killed him.”
Leo began to laugh. “Yes, he tripped over something, all right.”
Marigold frowned up at him. “What is so funny?”
“Gallows humor, love. What perfect irony.” He kissed her on the nose. “You didn’t kill him, Marigold. It was a fierce lion by the name of Mallow who tripped him up and brought him down. This is why the little fellow has been hopping up and down and barking at us. He’s been trying to tell us he took care of my cousin. Well done, Mallow.”
Marigold bent down to scoop the dog up in her arms. “My hero,” she said, now snuggling him and cooing at him as though he were a newborn babe. “Did the bad man hurt you? My poor, brave boy. Who’s going to get a bath and a treat?Youare. Oh, yes, you are.”
Leo stared down at his own grimy form. “How about me?”
He could also do with a treat, namely Marigold nakedly cuddling him. But he would not hold his breath for that to happen. Tonight, he would likely be left to his own bath and his own bed while Mallow grabbed all the attention.
Sighing, he took them both into his embrace. “Mallow has a little cut on his leg, but otherwise seems fine.”
Sterling pointed toward the house. “Dr. Farthingale is still here tending to the Bow Street runners. They’ll both live, thankfully. I think he ought to look after you and Mallow next, my lord.”
“Yes, Leo. Have him tend to you both.” Marigold put a hand on his arm to lead him inside and then emitted a soft cry. “You’re bleeding! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It is nothing. Just a graze.” He’d forgotten about his arm in the ensuing chaos.
By this time, everyone on Chipping Way was awake and out of their homes. They were a motley group, milling around in their nightclothes. Violet rushed out to Romulus to make certain he was unharmed. He rose to stand between his curious wife and Cummings’ body. “The danger has passed, love.” He gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Go back inside. Hyacinth might awaken.”
Violet ran her hands over her husband’s body to make certain he had come to no harm. “All right,” she said, satisfied Romulus had not been shot. “Don’t be long. Tell me everything when you return.”
“I will, you snoopy Farthingale.” He kissed her again and watched as she scooted back to their house. A moment later, she peered out of an upper floor window to watch as her husband once again knelt beside the body.
John and Sophie Farthingale, along with Pruitt, their butler, opened their gate and ventured onto the street. “What in blazes happened here?” John asked.
Leo wanted to go inside and leave the explanations until tomorrow. But he and Marigold would have no time tomorrow either…well, it was already tomorrow and the sun was now starting to rise. Their lanterns were no longer necessary as night now turned to grayish dawn. “Your brother is at my house, John. He’s tending to some wounded Bow Street runners. We’ve had quite a bit of excitement at the house.”
“But Marigold is fine?” Sophie asked.
Leo nodded.
“Thank goodness.” John now arched an eyebrow. “Did this excitement have anything to do with Marigold?”
“Well, yes. In a way. All is well now,” Leo assured him. “You may as well come inside and we’ll fill you in on what has happened. I doubt anyone is going to get any sleep tonight.”
“Does the invitation include us?” Lady Eloise asked, scurrying toward them with her faithful Watling beside her.
It was a veritable party on the street.
“Yes, why not? Although I doubt Lady Withnall will forgive you for getting the gossip first,” Leo teased.
They were all about to step inside Leo’s house when Homer Barrow arrived with the two Bow Street men who had assisted him in capturing the churl holding Mallow at the White Rose tavern.
