Page 13 of The Hero

She doubted it had been Gideon’s intention, but when he kissed her, he had revealed an intensity and depth of passion she would not have thought him capable of. And when he had held her tightly in his arms, the curves of her body pressed against his, she had felt the evidence of his desire pressing against her.

Neither Harry’s father, nor Miss Pettigrew during her years as her governess, had been comfortable talking to her about men and desire. The former because he simply hadn’t thought about it, and Harry was too embarrassed to ask. The latter because she had no knowledge of such things herself. But Edward had felt no such qualms, declaring on Harry’s sixteenth birthday that she needed to know about men’s desires for her own protection. After which, her brother talked to her at length on the subject.

As a consequence of that conversation, Harry knew that a man experienced desire in different ways, and that at least one of them could be physically seen and felt. When a man was sexually aroused, his cock became engorged, possibly to twice or three times the size it was normally.

Having never seen the size of a normal cock, Harry could only imagine what an engorged one looked like. She had decided then and there that this must be the reason ladies, including Aunt Amelia, did not discuss sexual relations in her presence. If they had, Harry would then have wanted to know how anything so large could possibly fit inside the channel between her legs.

Some conversations should remain private, she had decided.

Or felt.

As she had felt the evidence of Gideon’s desire the previous evening as it pressed against the softness of her abdomen. Their obvious difference in height had brought about a whole new set of questions. The most obvious being, with Gideon being so much taller than her, how would their bodies align if they were to engage in the sexual act together?

None of which was of the least relevance now, with her father barely conscious and obviously in a lot of pain. All Harry could do was hold his hand and murmur reassurances until the doctor arrived, brought to the bedchamber by her Uncle Walter. Her uncle had then dismissed her from the room, declaring it was unseemly for her to see her father being bared to the waist, as the doctor had instantly requested.

Harry had joined her aunt in her parlor. Uncle Walter had come to them briefly a short time ago to tell his wife their brother-in-law appeared to have been accidentally shot in his side.

Which would explain all the blood on his clothing.

But not how he came to be “accidentally” shot. Or by whom.

Harry had always thought shooting grouse and game to be a carefully controlled and coordinated sport. Although, like her father, she questioned whether it could be called sport at all when the birds, rabbits, and deer rarely escaped the barrage of pellets that were often aimed at them from several hunters shooting at the same target.

She winced at the thought of why her father might have decided to venture into the area where the other men were shooting, aware that the conversation he expected to have with Oxford must still be weighing heavily on his mind.

According to her uncle, none of the gentlemen had come forward to admit to the deed.

“Once news of this gets out, no one in Society will want to attend one of my house parties ever again!”

Her aunt’s continued lament brought Harry out of her own disturbing thoughts. “Or it might make them more popular,” she countered lightly. “Just think of the anticipation that might be felt at the prospect of being shot at one of the Whitings’ weekend house parties.”

Amelia looked at her aghast for several stunned moments until she obviously recognized the humor in Harry’s gaze for exactly what it was. She sighed heavily. “I am well aware I am being overly dramatic.”

“Uncle Walter said the doctor has declared my father’s injuries not to be serious. Think of the positive,” Harry teased. “It is a certainty there will be no lack of conversation to be had over dinner this evening.”

Her aunt mopped up the last of her tears with a lace handkerchief before stowing it away in the concealed pocket of her gown. “How Walter could have allowed such a thing to happen is beyond understanding.”

Harry grimaced. “I am sure if my uncle could have prevented it, then he would have done so.”

“I cannot think what could have possessed your father to venture into the area of the woods where he could hear the other gentlemen shooting.”

Harry could.

Her father wouldn’t have thought of the danger he was putting himself in by seeking out Gideon to discuss with him what he had seen the previous evening.

Luckily, she was prevented from having to answer her aunt’s questions by Watkins’s arrival in the doorway of the private parlor. He informed them the doctor had finished attending his patient and was now downstairs with Lord Whiting, about to make his departure. Her aunt gave a distressed squeak before hurrying from the room.

Harry had not been invited to join them, but she followed anyway, eager to hear news of her father’s condition.

She arrived in time to hear the doctor speaking over her aunt’s rising hysteria. “Calm yourself, madam. I assure you, only a half dozen of the pellets penetrated the earl’s side. I have removed them. The bleeding has stopped and a bandage applied. The earl is now taking my advice to rest in his bedchamber for the rest of the day.”

Her aunt’s gloved hand fluttered about her throat. “You are sure he will make a complete recovery?”

The doctor’s eyes narrowed. “I trust, Lady Whiting, that my medical capability is such the earl will not perish from having a few pellets of shot penetrate an inch of the skin at his side,” he reproved irritably. “The amount of blood made the injury appear far worse than it is,” he added in a gentler voice.

Harry didn’t linger in the hallway to listen to any more of their conversation, but instead made her way back to the wide staircase before hurrying up to the first floor and her father’s bedchamber.

She came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the hallway when she saw Gideon shutting the bedchamber door quietly behind him as he left the room. Harry was very much aware it was the first time they had been alone together since they kissed the previous evening.

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