Page 88 of The Moonstone Pirate
Elmer, now obviously bemused, shook his head and hurried off.
Draco was ignoring everyone and trying to descend from the wagon on his own when Elmer returned with another young lad. “Back off,” Draco said with a growl.
Elmer motioned to the others to stay back. “I’ll see to Lord Woodley.”
“I can walk,” Draco barked, knowing he was being unreasonable when these boys were merely trying to help him. Perhaps he had been too much on his own all these years and gotten used to taking care of himself.
Everyone was making too much of a fuss over a mere flesh wound. It was nothing compared to other wounds he’d received in the heat of battle, and he had survived those under much rougher conditions.
“Put him in a pushchair,” Imogen ordered Elmer. “The man is ridiculous. He’s lost too much blood. His eyes are glazed, and I am certain they are out of focus.”
“My eyesight is perfect,” he grumbled. She shoved him lightly so that he fell back in the chair, and then asked him how many fingers she was holding up. “How would I know? Stop moving them in front of my face.”
“I am not moving them. You are the one who cannot see straight because your eyes are swimming around. Why will you not admit you are dizzy?”
“I am not dizzy. I am an earl.”
“I would not boast about it when you are behaving like a stubborn idiot.”
He laughed. “Imogen, stop kicking my arse. I’ll be fine once the doctor cleans out the wound and puts in the stitches.”
The handkerchief she had been pressing to his arm had fallen to the floor, and he saw that it was soaked with blood. His shirt sleeve was also soaked, the elegant white lawn fabric now covered in crimson all the way down to the cuff.
No wonder Deandra burst into tears again.
And no wonder his head was spinning.
What a turn of bad luck.
Not only was he worthless in his condition and unable to chase the villain who had fired that shot, but he needed to be in shape for tomorrow’s meeting with McTavish.
Well, one problem at a time.
Parrot, Constable Angel, and his men were already on the trail of this assailant. They would eventually find out the villain’s identity even if the constables never caught up to him, for a manwith such a fine horse would be noticed, and someone would be able to put a name to its owner. There could not be more than a handful of chestnut Friesians in all of England.
First problem solved… Well, soon to be solved.
Draco was deposited in a surprisingly well-appointed private room that held only two beds, both of them neatly made up and unoccupied. The lad called Elmer assured him Dr. Hewitt was on his way to tend to his flesh wound. That solved the second problem.
The third problem was his meeting with McTavish. However, Draco did not think it would become an issue, since they were merely going to sit at a corner table in the tavern to discuss terms. How difficult could sharing a drink with a fellow privateer be?
Still, Draco was frustrated.
He could not put Parrot back to the task of protecting Imogen because the animal was off tracking the assailant. Nor could he properly look after Imogen while in his condition. Most troubling was that all had seemed quiet in the village until the very moment of the shooting.
Obviously, someone had been lurking and no one had noticed.
Who had fired the shot?
Why had he fired it?
And who was he aiming for? Him or Imogen?
Chapter Fourteen
“See to herfirst, Dr. Hewitt,” Draco said, refusing to allow the doctor to tend him before treating Imogen’s injured hand.
Imogen was not pleased by this at all.
