Page 93 of The Moonstone Pirate
She glanced down, noting the bloodstains that looked quite awful. “Oh, that. Dear me, it isn’t any of my blood, I assure you. Lord Woodley is the one who got shot. But as you can see, he is on the mend. My gown is ruined, however. I don’t think these stains will come out. Perhaps we can boil the gown and then dye the fabric.”
Melrose regarded Deandra, who was next to step down. Her gown was lightly stained, only a few red drops on the fabric, since Imogen had been the one holding him and tending him, while Deandra had been mostly crying beside him and doing nothing to help.
Imogen put an arm around Deandra as soon as she stepped down. “She’s still a little overset and wobbly on her feet, Melrose. I’m putting her straight to bed. Have Betty bring up some warm milk and biscuits for her in our bedchamber.”
“Very good, Lady Imogen. And for you and Lord Woodley?”
Imogen ordered lemonade and cakes to be served on the terrace, and then told the young soldier who drove them to go to the kitchen, where the Burness cook would serve the same forhim. “Thank you, Lady Imogen,” the soldier said, and hopped out of the driver’s seat.
“Imogen, do not pamper him. I cannot stay long,” Draco muttered, hopping down last.
“I won’t hold you up, but surely you can spare a few minutes for me. Wait for me on the terrace. I’ll be right back.”
“All right.” Draco settled in one of those long chairs he found so comfortable while Imogen bustled his cousin upstairs, quickly washed up and changed out of her own bloodied gown, and then returned wearing a mint-green confection that had him aching to taste her because she looked simply delicious, like a refreshing sprig ofamuse-boucheon a plate.
Before he had the chance to rise, she sank into the chair beside his and released a lengthy sigh. “I hope I did not keep you waiting too long. Deandra will be fine. Our maid, Betty, is taking good care of her.”
He nodded. “Thank you, Imogen. You’ve been wonderful to us both.”
She cast him a sweet smile and blushed. “I expect Deandra will fall asleep now, because this incident has completely drained her.”
He sat up and leaned close to her. “And you, Imogen? How are you feeling?”
“Shaken,” she admitted. “Quite a bit spent. But I will calm down now that your wound has been treated and you appear fit.”
“I am fine. You mustn’t worry about me.”
“Draco, you always say this. But you are not fine. You were shot.”
“Flesh wound, Butterfly. Your gown suffered worse. I’ll pay for a new one.”
She laughed softly. “Why? Because it was your blood on it? You are not to worry about that.” He started to protest, but shelaughed and cut him off. “You are turning into a protective ape again. You must stop insisting on paying for everything for me.”
“All right.” But he was going to do exactly that. He would talk to Burness about it later.
“Draco, who do you think tried to shoot you?”
He arched an eyebrow. “I don’t know. The assailant could have been aiming for anybody in that shop.”
“But he hityou,” she pointed out. “And I hardly think some dastardly villain was coming after the ladies in the tea shop.”
He closed his eyes and allowed the sun to warm his face. “I suppose not, but I had my body over you at the time. That shot was going to hit you if I had not pushed you down. I truly have no idea who would have done this to either of us. I suppose the likely culprits are Healey or Burke.”
“So, you would rule out Driscoll’s friends?”
He opened his eyes and studied her as she sat close beside him, a light breeze blowing off the water and gently stirring her curls. Truly, he could not wait for the day to unpin that silky mass and slide his fingers through her beautiful tresses.
“Yes, Imogen. They are ruled out. Those toadies came here in carriages. None of them rode here on horseback. Nor could they afford a horse so fine as that chestnut Friesian when their families have cut off their allowances and they are all left scrounging from month to month to support their profligate existence. It is possible one of them borrowed the mount to ride back here, but to what purpose? And who would ever trust any of them with a horse as fine as that one?”
She stared up at him with her big eyes that never failed to ensorcel him. “Perhaps they sought revenge for your having them locked up overnight in the Fort Arundel barracks?”
“All that effort for an uncomfortable night?” Draco shook his head. “No, they are stupid men, but notthatstupid. Their friend had just been killed and they were seen fleeing. They arefortunate we did not clap them in irons and hold them here as suspects. No, it wasn’t them. They are creatures of comfort…or should I say, creatures of indulgence. To ride back here just for the pleasure of shooting me? And risk getting locked up again? Not those wastrels.”
“But Healey and Burke? Why would they do such a foolish thing?”
“I don’t know, but my wager is on them. No one else makes sense.”
“Nor do they make sense,” Imogen insisted. “What motive would they have?”
