Hutchins turned to Charlotte, aghast at her presence in the room. “Let us tend to him, ma’am. ’Tis not a proper sight for a lady.”
Charlotte waved away his concerns and took the bowl of hot water away from her maid. Hutchins removed the shirt, handing the balled-up linen to Aamina.
“He is my guest, and I will tend to him. I’m hardly an innocent maid,” Charlotte said as she raised a challenging brow at the servants. “Besides, he is scarcely in shape to cause a scandal, is he?”
Placing the bowl of hot water on the bedside table, Charlotte bent over the unconscious man, examining the wound. The bullet was lodged in his shoulder. Peregrine trembled, his breaths rapid as she gently palpated around the wound. She found no exit where the bullet would have left his body. The doctor would have to remove the bullet. It was imperative to prevent the putrefaction of the wound.
Hutchins and Aamina shared a glance, to which Charlotte responded with her own authoritative glare. Straightening her spine, she waited for them to obey her orders, projecting aconfidence she did not feel. The maid nodded and left to search for more supplies.
“Ring if you need anything, ma’am. We will help you dress him once he has been fully examined. I will bring the doctor up as soon as he arrives. Our guest is a lucky man to be subject to the tender ministrations of so kind a lady.” The servants returned to their respective duties, whispering of the new tasks that would be required in helping heal the ailing gentleman as they retreated into the hallway.
Charlotte shook her head as she gazed at the ghastly pale man lying on the bed before her. There was no fear of discovery, since he was completely unconscious. She would hide once the doctor came. Having placed Perry in the room near hers, she could listen in on the doctor’s examination. A propped-open door would suffice in giving her access to all the information. Carefully dipping a clean cloth in the bowl of hot water and wringing it out, she winced as her hands adjusted to the heat of the water-soaked cloth.
Worry gnawed at her, seeing such a strong man brought so low. Once the blood was carefully cleaned, she wondered what the wound would reveal. Removing the bullet would add a layer of risk and suffering to the treatment. Grateful for each of his inhales, she hoped the location of the wound meant that he would recover completely from the attack. As she wiped away a trail of drying blood that had smeared under the shirt, she considered the implications of this attack.
Why would anyone shoot Lord Spencer?
Was it an accident?
Where had he been shot, if the horse traveled to Fermoy? Had he been visiting his family’s estate at Bodmin? Most likely.
The questions would have to wait until Perry was alert to be answered. Charlotte held her breath as Perry stirred in his unconsciousness. The wound must be painful, and he was feeling it. She could tell by the small sound he made as she probed closer to the injury. At least he wasn’t completely unaware. It was a good signthat he would eventually awaken. Rest would prove the best healer, and Charlotte was anxious to have a doctor examine him and confirm her observations.
Her eyes traveled carefully down the smooth planes of his chest. Married life seemed to have served him well. His body no longer held the lean appearance of his youth. His muscles were well-formed and strong, and there was a slight softness to his midsection that bespoke an enjoyment of a good meal and perhaps a drink or two. Not that she minded, her appearance had changed as well, after almost a decade. His disheveled hair gave him an almost boyish look. Her hand traveled subconsciously to his bearded face, cupping the cheek of the one she had once cherished so dearly. She could still see the younger man there, beneath the creased brow and the serious frown on his sleeping face.
Charlotte wondered what kind of woman he had married. Had he been happy with her? After disappearing so thoroughly from his life, she had no right to demand loyalty or fidelity. She practically begged to be forgotten. Relinquished to memories of a charmed, almost dream-like past. A past where the demands of society and rank were not placed upon them. Where their duty was only to themselves.
Taking a clean cloth from the pile, she dipped it in the water and wiped his forehead. His frown relaxed and a soft moan slipped from his mouth. She held her breath, looking for signs that he was waking, but he turned his head into her hand, chasing the comfort. Her heart raced at the intimacy of the movement.
How she yearned to care for this man. Her heart ached at the tug of longing his presence awakened in her. A pull she had buried deep where no one could see.
The moment she laid eyes on him back then, her heart, like her breath, was taken. Perry had shown no mercy with his easy smiles and friendly conversation. He was a moment of reprieve during adark time where Charlotte had lost all hope of ever finding happiness. She had come to Fermoy to lose herself that summer. To escape the reality of the future she was stepping into. Little did she know how much she would regret that decision. Sipping on the memories and savoring their sweetness during her hours of abject misery and loneliness proved agonizing. Eventually, the pain diminished, but Charlotte could never forget.
After all, it was the summer Peregrine Spencer had broken her heart.
While also restoring it in the most unimaginable way.
Chapter Six
Abattle waged inside Charlotte, a fervent desire to hide and guard the peace she had achieved at Fermoy during her isolation. Here, she was safe and protected, as was her daughter.
Yet the small flicker of excitement every time her eyes lit upon Perry reminded her of all she had lost. She was sheltered from the harsh judgments of the world, and yet, she was lonely. Had her life gone the way of her fantasies, she would have wed Peregrine after making the shocking discovery so long ago.
Her family traditionally escaped the sweltering heat of London summers by retreating to the country, as did so many other prominent members of theton. Charlotte was twenty years old when, upon daydreaming her way through fields of tall grasses and humming a soft tune, she first laid eyes on Peregrine Spencer. Her hand came to her collarbone at the memory, and Charlotte closed her eyes, savoring the moment. She could never forget the day her life was forever changed. It had been a summer like any other, and yet her first glimpse of Peregrine left his name evermore imprinted on her soul.
His sun-bronzed skin and light blue eyes had been startling. Shehad observed him walking from the direction of the old castle ruins. A loyal hound panted happily at his side. Charlotte darted into the woods just beyond the clearing and hid behind a tree, watching as he strode by, completely unaware. He chatted happily with his dog, promising the old boy a bone as soon as they returned to his neighboring estate. Charlotte recognized Peregrine immediately, since their families had been friendly country neighbors for years.
Though she had seen him infrequently throughout the years, her mouth grew dry.
He was so handsome, especially as a grin lit up his face.
She peeked from behind the rough tree trunk, eyes widening as she scanned his sturdy and strong physique. He had grown much taller since she had last seen him, and though she had finished her second, less-than-successful season that year, she had never once spotted him in any ballrooms. Perhaps if she had, her future would have been quite different. Her parents encouraged her to be happy with her fate. She had finally made a match. Her future husband looked nothing like the man walking before her now. Viscount Dewberry was almost triple her age and loved to indulge in copious amounts of food and drink. Her parents were delighted the widower had made an offer for her. As though she should be grateful he found her—how had he said it? Ah, yes, “passably attractive.”
It was mortifying, the way the older man’s gaze raked over her body in cold assessment, as though she were little more than a suitable breeder.
Not unlike how she was assessing the younger man in front of her.
Her cheeks warmed as she took in Peregrine’s trim waist and strong legs.
