Loving The Lost Duke (Dangerous Deceptions #1)(77)

‘Here, Miss. Shall I send some up?’

‘No!’ She poured the contents of the jug down the sink. ‘Wash that thoroughly. Scour it. Is there more?’

‘Yes, Miss…’

‘Pour it all away, do you hear me? It is poisoned, polluted with mine waste. Boil some water from the pump and bring it upstairs.’

Leaving a tumult of questions behind her she ran upstairs to find Lord Peter shaking Ralph by the shoulders by while a group of guests huddled round. ‘What has happened? What have you done?’

‘Shot… Cal.’

There were shrieks but Sophie saw Lord Peter’s face, saw the look of horror. But he was not surprised. He thought it was Ralph, all this time. And Ralph thought it was him.

She elbowed her way through to the two Thornes. ‘It was an accident. They were looking at a gun, I was there.’ She thought Lord Peter might faint. ‘Ralph, stop thinking about yourself and look after your father.’ She almost shook with the need to point at him, scream that it was all his fault, but that was not what Cal wanted. ‘Please, everyone, there is nothing you can do, just go downstairs – ’

‘Sophie.’ Her stepfather was at her side. ‘You are covered in blood.’

‘I am fine. It is all Cal’s blood. Excuse me.’

‘Come away, dear, let your mother take you to your room.’

‘No. Thank you, Step Papa. I must be with him.’ She walked away from them then and no-one followed her.

At his bedchamber door she stood, holding the handle, willing herself to open it. He had been bleeding so. What if Hunt couldn’t… No. Courage. She put up her chin, opened the door and four heads turned at the sound and Cal… Cal smiled at her.

‘The doctor has been sent for. They are boiling water and – oh, there you are Mrs Fairfax, Renshaw. I have told them in the kitchen to throw away all of the water from the Duke’s Spring. It is polluted and dangerous, that is what killed Ransome.’

‘Mr Ransome? Oh my.’ Mrs Fairfax put down the roll of bandages she was carrying and hurried out.

‘You have stopped the bleeding?’

Hunt looked up from tying a knot in bandages on Cal’s shoulder. ‘For the moment. It looks like a fairly clean wound, right through the shoulder. Provided there are no bone chips or blood vessels nicked and weakened, everything should be fine. The doctor will have to probe, of course, to make sure. I’ve sent for Harknett, not that old fool from the village. Might take longer but he’s a better man, I hear.’

‘Thank you, Jared. I feel so much better now.’ Cal’s chuckle was faint.

The fencing master grimaced. ‘I thought you’d want the truth without the bark on it.’

‘But perhaps Miss Wilmott prefers a less unvarnished version?’

‘No. I do not.’ Sophie found her legs, possibly, would have preferred a less graphic description of what Cal still had to endure. In fact her vision was beginning to narrow alarmingly. She sat down before she fell down. ‘You will not let him bleed Cal. He has lost quite enough blood already.’

There were murmurs of agreement then Cal said, ‘Out, all of you, I need to talk to Sophie.’

They went without an argument. Perhaps, she thought drearily, they heard the grim note in Cal’s voice. She had let him down and now he had to contend with that on top of Ralph’s breakdown and a bullet wound.

‘Sophie, I am sorry. I have broken our agreement and you sensed it. You seem to have come to know me very quickly, I should have guessed I couldn’t hide it from you.’

‘Hide what?’

‘How I feel about you.’ Cal shifted against the pillows. ‘I wish I could touch you, and I am glad I cannot. This would be impossible with you any closer.’

Sophie sank back in her chair. ‘Cal, I don’t understand. I think you must be feverish.’

‘I promised you the marriage you wanted, to the kind of man you were looking for. A marriage without any pretence of love to cloud things, no messy emotions. You’d had all that from Ransome. He told you he loved you, he taught you that you can’t trust a man that says that.’ When she did not reply he said simply, ‘I couldn’t help it. I have fallen in love with you, Sophie.’

‘But only his afternoon you told me you hadn’t loved Madeleine, that you didn’t know how to love…’

‘No, I did not love her, I did not know how to love her. But I do love you. I cannot explain what this is that I feel in any other way. And you’ve sensed it and that is why you can’t marry me. I understand that. I am damned if I know how to persuade you to risk it again. I could say that we are friends, that we are lovers, that I will not impose my feelings on you or pressure you to feel things, say things, that you do not mean, but I am not good at begging, Sophie. I don’t think I am very convincing and, even if I were, how can I try and force you into this?’

‘Is that all?’ she managed to ask, clenching her fingers around the arms of the chair so she did not throw herself into his arms. He loves me.

‘Yes. Pathetic, isn’t it? I would die for you, Sophie.’

‘I know, because you almost did, just now. And it is not pathetic, it is brave and honest of you and you trusted me to listen to you and understand. Cal, I am sorry, but…’