“Marksman has officially extended his hand to Theodora,” Aaran said with a small grin.
“I suspected as such, for everything pointed to what we have always known existed between the two,” Benjamin admitted. “I pray they will know happiness.”
Before more could be said, Duncan snuck into their hiding place. “Listen,” Duncan said as he came closer. “This is Liverpool’s mission; therefore, you are to follow his lordship’s orders, but I want each of you, first and foremost, to watch out for your brothers. I am not prepared to part with any of you.”
Duncan’s speech was similar to what he had said on previous investigations, but, then again, Benjamin did not imagine Duncan much enjoyed taking a second seat to Lord Liverpool, who would likely be named the new Prime Minister. Duncan had years of experience in such matters, and Liverpool did not.
Benjamin had beenstationed in the attic with another of Duncan’s men, where they could view the approach of Mr. John Yates from the west and Lord Honfleur from the road leading to London. Moreau’s daughter rode beside him. The other major participants identified in the scheme had arrived earlier.
“Soon,” the other man, Mr. Atticus Gandy, warned in anticipation, and Benjamin tucked his medical bag close to where he sat. If any of Duncan’s men were injured, he would be called upon to assist them, and he took his responsibilities seriously.
When the signal from Liverpool came some twenty minutes later, Benjamin had been wondering what Miss Whitchurch and the child were doing. His partner, eager for the fight, led the way down the steps from the attic. Immediately, they were in the midst of a brawl. Punches were thrown and blocked. Men were repeatedly knocked down, but quickly scrambled upward again.
Benjamin had little time to know whether his brothers and Duncan were safe or not as he incapacitated two of those attacking Gandy. At length, he heard the sound of gunshots outside of the inn, and someone was frantically calling his name over the melee Fearing the worst, he shoved people from his way to follow Duncan and Beaufort who had secured the inn’s kitchen area.
Outside, Duncan pulled up suddenly, but Benjamin and Beaufortdarted around him. Both Alexander and Moreau were on the ground and bleeding.
“Hurry!” Beaufort called as Benjamin skidded to a stop beside Alexander.
Benjamin realized he had left his bag inside, but Gandy ran at full speed to deliver it.
“Much appreciated,” Benjamin mumbled as he swatted Alexander’s hands from the way so he might examine his brother’s wound. Over his shoulder he ordered Graham, who was limping towards them, “We need a door.”
Meanwhile, Alexander ignored all the chaos to catch Beaufort’s arm. “Go… after… my… sister… before… Caroline… reaches… her.”
Duncan knelt beside them and claimed Alexander’s other hand. “We have you, Boy. I shan’t permit anything to happen to you.”
Alexander ignored Duncan’s assurances. Instead, he ordered. “Beaufort! Go… now!”
Beaufort assured, “I will do as you ask. Permit the others to tend you.”
With that promise, Alexander closed his eyes.
Behind him, Benjamin heard Duncan again barking orders, as Benjamin ripped the cravat from his own neck and pressed the cloth against the wound to staunch the flow of blood. Alexander groaned, but he did not open his eyes. Meanwhile, Benjamin probed for the bullet, drawing another groan of pain from Alexander’s lips.
“Be careful, Benjamin,” Duncan ordered.
“I am,” Benjamin assured. “I must locate the bullet.”
“I want… to be… at Marksman… Hall… when Annalise… arrives,” Alexander managed to say. “Dora should… not see… me… on the… ground.”
“The bullet must be removed and the wound dressed properly first,” Benjamin ordered.
“I mean… to go…” Alexander attempted to rise.
Benjamin pushed him back down again. “It is too dangerous. The bullet could move into your heart.”
Duncan leaned over Alexander. “If you die on this journey, I will revive you long enough to kill you again. You cannot destroy my daughter nor your sister nor me with your death. You hear me, Boy? You must will yourself to live.” He turned to one of the others. “Bring that wagon around.”
Benjamin warned, “I must object, sir. Moving him is too dangerous.”
“I understand,” Duncan stated in adamant tones. “Your concerns are so noted. Now bind the wound until we might return him to Duncan Place.”
With a frown and a doleful sigh of resignation, Benjamin did as Duncan instructed.
“Here is a door, sir,” Orson and Graham told them as they set a wooden door on the ground beside where Alexander lay.
“I have the wagon,” another of their men announced.
“Slide your arms under him as if he was a heavy box and rotate him onto the flat of the door,” Benjamin ordered.
Within a minute, Alexander was on the wooden frame and loaded on the back of the wagon.
“Give me the reins,” Duncan ordered. “Orson and Hartley, you are in charge of our part of the investigation. Thompson, with me. Keep the door steady.”
Benjamin reclaimed his medical bag and told Orson to send someone ahead to fetch Mr. Rheem. Before he was even settled beside Alexander’s body, Duncan set the horses in motion.
