Page 91 of The Duke of Kisses
David had to find her. Where could she be? He pivoted and took in the painting scene. There was a stool near the window, where a model might sit. But the painting was not of a woman sitting. It didn’t make any sort of sense. And yet he knew Fanny had been summoned here, and it was her image on that canvas. Unfortunately, he couldn’t interrogate the one person who might know where she was.
Despair curled through him. He unlatched the back door and strode outside. A cloud had moved over the sun, plunging the day into shadow, as if the heavens would share in his anguish.
“She’s here!”
David heard the call and ran to the sound. He raced around the house toward the copse of trees on the west side.
Jacob came from the trees, his arms carrying a figure in a dark blue riding habit.
Fanny.
Racing to the man’s side, he took her from him without asking. Her eyes were closed, and blood stained her front, completely discoloring the white blouse beneath the jacket.
David carried her inside to the settee near the fireplace.
West joined him. “Where did you find her?”
“In the trees,” Jacob answered from somewhere to David’s right.
Snowden came around the backside of the settee. “What’s happened to her?” He sounded stricken, and David wanted to scream at him. He didn’t deserve to feel as upset as David did. But then David doubted he ever really could.
David dropped to his knees and smoothed Fanny’s hair back from her scratched and dirty face. “Fanny, wake up, please, my love.” He ran his hand down her cheek and felt the pulse in her neck then opened the buttons of her jacket to investigate the source of the blood.
Her chest rose and fell with her breaths, but he was still more scared than he’d ever been in his life. Watching his father grow sicker and die and been awful, but this pain was beyond anything he could imagine.
As he eased her jacket aside, her eyelids fluttered and opened. Her eyes were unfocused as she looked past him. She blinked again and again before seeing him. “David?”
“I’m here, love.” Relief—however temporary it might be—poured through him.
“Where are we?” She looked around, and then fear took over her expression. “Are we back in the lodge?” She tried to sit up, her eyes wild.
“She’s a murderer!” David’s mother cried as she came toward the settee.
Snowden grabbed her and pushed her into the wall. “Don’t you dare touch my daughter.”
West moved between them, putting his back to the countess, and shoved at Snowden. “Back off!”
Fanny flinched and brought her hand to her shoulder. She quickly jerked her hand back. “What’s wrong with me?” She looked at the blood staining her palm and then lifted her frightened gaze to David’s.
“We’ll fix it, love,” he promised, tearing his cravat from his neck and wadding the linen in his palm to press it gently against the wound.
“He stabbed me.” She stared up at him, dazed. “Your uncle. He wanted to kill me, just like he said he killed my Great-uncle George.” She began to sob. David cradled his free arm around her.
“I knew it!” Snowden crowed. “I knew you bloody well killed him.”
David’s mother shook her head frantically. “No. Walter took him to the coast and put him on a ship to America.”
“You believed that?” Snowden sneered.
The countess opened her mouth but said nothing. She turned her head, presenting a stoic profile as she clenched her jaw.
Fanny’s sobs subsided, and David pressed a kiss to her forehead. He looked toward West. “She needs a doctor.”
“I can ride to get one, but do you want me to leave?”
“I’ll do whatever he needs,” Jacob said. His gaze was fixed intently on his sister, and worry was etched into every line of his face.
David’s mother stepped toward West, her features harsh. “When you go to town, fetch the magistrate too. So he can arrest her for murder.”
She pointed at Fanny, and that was when David completely lost control.
