Page 79 of Crash Landing
“You have never fired a weapon before.”
She cast him a stubborn look. “True, but how difficult—”
“Gad, no!” He shook his head with vehemence. “I want you up in Hermia’s room rightnow, and stay there until I tell you it is safe to come down. Why are you giving me a hard time about this? That shot was aimed atyou, and would have hityouif I had not pushed you down.”
“But it struckyou, and we need to take care ofyouat once.” Sheturned to his butler. “Send a man for the doctor right away. And His Grace should not be joining in the search while he is spurting blood like water out of a whale’s spout.”
“I’ll be fine. You exaggerate. Go upstairs and stop fretting. Timmons, I want two armed footmen posted at the top of the main stairs and two at the top of the servants’ stairs to guard the ladies.”
“Very good, Your Grace.”
He next turned to Sebastian and handed him a rifle. “I want you inside the room with Hermia and Florence. Do not let either of them near the windows.”
“Very good, Your Grace,” Sebastian said, still grumbling in frustration.
The housekeeper now rushed in to join them.
Trajan turned to her. “My apologies, Mrs. Albright. We’ve made a fresh mess in the library. It needs to be cleaned up, but not now. It isn’t safe yet.”
“All right, Your Grace,” she said. “I’ll gather the maids and keep them in the kitchen until you instruct otherwise.”
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Albright.” Florence began to wring her hands because she blamed herself for the chaos created and was obviously distraught over his injury.
“No apology necessary, Lady Florence.” Mrs. Albright placed a kindly arm around Florence to lead her upstairs. Florence allowed the woman to steer her out of the room, but cast Trajan a pleading glance on the way out.
His heart skipped several beats, for those were real tears she was shedding.
For him.
He gave the matter no more thought and hurriedly finished handing out the weapons. They took off after the assailant. “Keep a lookout for any accomplices,” he warned, although he was fairly certain Frampton had sent only this one man.
Had he meant to kill Florence? Or merely scare her?
Well, that had been a killing shot.
Timmons remained behind to send a messenger for the doctor and assist Mrs. Albright in calming the staff. Trajan organized his footmen in pairs, relieved when all men were accounted for and none of them hurt. He delegated a portion of the grounds to each pair, although he doubted their search would yield any other assailants in hiding. Assassins usually worked alone, did they not?
But there might be clues to be found.
“Edgar, come with me,” he said to the most capable of his men.
“Aye, Your Grace. What is this world coming to? Who would want to harm you or Lady Florence?”
“We’ll question the culprit once we catch him.”
But he knew the answer already—the shooter had come for Florence and not him.
It was not long before Herbert gave a shout. “He’s there! I see him.”
He released Trajan’s prize bloodhound, who tore off after the man, his barks leading them all toward the beach stairs, where Frampton had first caught sight of Trajan and Florence in a torrid embrace several days ago.
The man, obviously in a panic and knowing he would be caught before he ever made it to the shelter of the woods that separated this property from Frampton’s, stupidly thought to run down to the beach instead. Perhaps he meant to swim to Frampton’s side of the cove, or merely was not thinking at all, for those cove waters were already dark and the wave swells were rough as the tide came in. Even a strong swimmer could be swallowed up by the unforgiving sea.
But the man never made it near the water or even onto the beach. He had barely started down the steps before tripping over his feet and tumbling headfirst along the length of the stairs.
He was dead by the time his body hit the sand.
Since night had now fallen, two of the footmen lit torches to illuminate their way down the stairs, for Trajan did not need anyone else taking a tumble.
