While Evangeline went to the pond to get the water, he did as he was told and removed his outer garments. His injured arm protested as he slipped it out of his jacket sleeve. A small dose of laudanum would be most welcome right now.
She returned carrying a small leather bucket. Gus gave it a second glance. “Weren’t you using that to carry water for the horses?”
A derisive snort was her answer to his question. “What happened to the hardened sailor? Don’t tell me those weeks in convalescence have made you soft. Perhaps I won’t marry you after all. One life-threatening incident and you go all to pieces.”
Mischief and mirth danced in her eyes.
“If you come closer, I will show you just how hard I am,” he replied.
She stood staring at him for a moment, those plump pink lips of hers slightly open. He was tempted to ask what she was thinking. He had a pretty good idea. It was written all over her face. When she ran her tongue along her bottom lip, his manhood sprang to attention.
Get a hold of yourself. You still have a long way to go today. And you are far from out of danger.
Much as he craved to share an afternoon of lovemaking with Evangeline, this was not the time nor the place for it. “Please put the cold compress on my shoulder. I promise to behave,” he said.
She knelt beside him and for the first time, he sensed a touch of shyness about her. They had progressed their relationship today. Decisions had been made. But they were mere words. The warm touch of a future lover was a potent thing.
He lifted his shirt, wincing as he pulled it over his head.
From out of her satchel, Evangeline produced a small cloth. After dipping it in the bucket, she lightly wrung it out, then moved closer. “This is going to be chilly, but it will give you some relief.” Laying the cloth over the angry red scar of his wound, she fell silent.
Gus placed his hand over hers. “Thank you. And yes, it does help. Then again, anything you do is good.”
A tear landed on the back of his hand, and he glanced up. She was crying.
“I feel so guilty over you getting shot that day at the château. I had to hold back on firing my weapon in case I hit you. But all it did was get you injured anyway,” she said.
He leaned in and brushed a kiss on her cheek. “It wasn’t your fault. In the middle of a gun battle, people are going to get hurt. Or worse.”
Gus wasn’t ready to confess that his getting shot had been as a result of his own stupidity. He had been too concerned with moving the shipment of brandy back to the boat. Not paying enough attention to the signs of trouble. In the end, he had panicked and paid the price.
Thank god Stephen had had the presence of mind to abandon the cargo and get the boat ready to sail. Gus had scant memories of actually getting back on board or them sailing away from the château.
All I do remember is the pain and the screaming.
There was nothing worse than hearing a grown man crying out for his mama only to realize that the words are coming from your own mouth.
Evangeline pulled the cloth away and dipped it into the water once more. “The wound looks like it was stitched well. It didn’t get poisoned?”
Gus shook his head. “Captain Grey held me down while he cut the shot out. Then he closed the wound. When we got back to London, Stephen’s wife, Bridget, checked and cleaned it.”
“You were very brave. When I brought you down to the yacht on my horse, I feared you might die. I spent weeks waiting for word that you had survived.”
He sighed. Getting a message to the La Roche’s had been a particular problem. The other rogues of the road had all been busy with their own lives and concerns. None had the time to travel to Portsmouth, let alone France. Monsale’s ongoing issues with the French authorities precluded him from getting anywhere near the country. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t send a letter. The wound was bad, and I spent several weeks under a heavy blanket of laudanum. By the time I was well enough to get out of bed, your note had already arrived.”
Evangeline might well be feeling a sense of guilt over his injury, but he was shamed by the fact that he hadn’t helped to ease her worry.
With the cloth removed once more, he picked up his shirt and slipped it over his head.
Under other circumstances, he would have been quite content to sit and enjoy his fiancée’s ministrations. But they still had some way to go before nightfall.
Gus got to his feet and offered Evangeline his hand. She shook her head. “Rest your good arm. That’s the one we might need if it comes to a gunfight.”
She walked away, tossing the water out of the bucket. As she headed in the direction of the horses, he caught her words. “Fancy leaving your rifle behind. You stupid girl.”
Her anger was understandable. Not only had she attacked their enemy, but without her rifle, she wouldn’t be able to defend herself. Gus could only pray that her mistake was not going to cost them dearly.
As he picked up his jacket and coat, grimacing as he put them back on, he wrestled with a worrying thought. What if they were caught by the Lamballe gang—would he be able to protect her?
