Abraham Lincoln, she thoughthazily as a long, homely face swam into focus. No, this face was cleanshaven,not the bearded visage she had seen in pictures in the newspaper. Besides,Lincoln had been shot, hadn't he?
"I didn't do anything toher," Ruel said curtly. "She took a dagger in the arm meant forme."
"Dear me, another Mila?You do seem to inspire self-sacrifice in the female gender."
"I'm glad the situationamuses you, Ian. Are you going to continue to chuckle while she bleeds todeath?"
All amusement instantlyvanished from the expression of the man Ruel had addressed as Ian. "Is sheseriously injured? Put the lass down and let me take a look."
"She says someone else isafter her and I want to get her away from here. Tie your handkerchief aroundher arm above the wound to lessen the bleeding."
"Aye." Ian obeyed,his gaze fixed on her face. "It's going to hurt a bit, lass."
It hurt more than a bit. Shegasped as he tightened the bandage carefully about her arm.
"Tighter," Ruelsaid. "Now isn't the time to be gentle. The blood's still flowing,dammit."
Ian tightened the bandage. Shebit her lower lip to keep back the cry of pain, but Ruel must have heard hersudden intake of breath, for his gaze flew to her face. "I know," hesaid hoarsely. "But we have to stop it. I'm not going to let youdie." He turned to the other man. "Let's get her away from here."
"I'll carry her,"Ian offered.
"No." Ruel's armstightened possessively around her. "I'll take care of her. You watch therear."
She opened her eyes to seeAbraham Lincoln sitting beside her bed.
No, that was wrong, shethought hazily, she had made that mistake before.
"You're going to be fine,lass. It's hardly a pinprick, though you bled quite a bit." He smiled."I don't believe we've been introduced. I'm Ian MacClaren, Earl ofGlenclaren. Ruel's my brother."
She glanced down at her arm.She was still fully dressed, but the sleeve of her shirt had been cut away anda neat clean bandage encircled her upper arm. Her gaze flew around the room."Where—"
"The Nayala Hotel. Thisis Ruel's room. When you fainted we decided to bring you here. Ruel said it wascloser than your bungalow."
"I never faint," sheprotested.
"Of course not," hesaid gravely. "Let's just say, then, that you were sleeping very hardindeed."
"Where is Ruel?"
"He was a trifle bloodyfrom carrying you and smelled atrociously, so I sent him next door to my roomto change. I was afraid you might be alarmed if you woke and saw him."
He spoke of sending Ruel offas if he were a naughty little boy, and yet she could not imagine the man shehad met at Zabrie's tamely going off at anyone's command. Her gaze flew to thedarkness beyond the window across the room. "What time is it?"
"Almost one o'clock inthe morning. As I said, you had yourself a bit of a nap."
She struggled to a sittingposition. "I have to get back to the bungalow."
"You can stay heretonight. I'll bunk in with Ian." Ruel stood in the doorway. He had changedhis clothes and was wearing tan breeches, brown boots, and a crisp white linenshirt. He strolled toward her and she was again aware of that lithe grace ofmovement she had noticed at Zabrie's. "I'll send a message to tell Reillywhere you are."
"No!" she saidinstantly. "I mean, thank you, but I don't want to worry him."
"And you don't wantReilly to know where you were tonight." He asked softly, "Who isPachtal, Jane?"
She didn't answer.
"May I remind you Ikilled a man in that alley tonight?" He shrugged. "Not that I'mobjecting. I have no use for killers who wait in the dark, but I believe Ideserve to know if there are going to be any repercussions."
Her hands clenched on thecoverlet. "No repercussions. I think he must have been one of Pachtal'sservants."
