“Grazed.”
“And then you moved toward him. Before I had him pinned.”
“To keep him from shooting you.”
“Foolish man. I was not the one he was shooting at.”
“No,” Gideon said softly. “But you were there.”
And there it was.
The truth of this man.
Or perhaps, for the first time, Beatrice understood it.
Because there he stood—the same maddening man who had spent the Season inserting himself between danger and everyone else. Between young ladies and dark terraces. Between foolish girls and predatory gentlemen. Between Beatrice and any threat he could see coming.
She had called it overbearing.
And it was.
But when she had stepped onto that path and saw a pistol aimed at Gideon’s chest?—
Oh. That kind of fear had been absolute.
Not polite concern. Not feminine alarm. Not even anger.
She’d experienced a savage, unthinking need to stop it. To put herself between him and harm. To throw whatever she held, use whatever she knew, become whatever was required if only he might remain breathing.
Her chest tightened.
So that was what it felt like.
Not merely to want to protect someone but to be unable to bear not protecting them.
The realization shook her almost as much as the sight of Hatherleigh’s pistol had.
Because she understood Gideon now.
Not completely. Not so much that she’d ever surrender to anyone’s keeping.
But enough.
She stepped closer and reached for his injured arm. “Let me see.”
“Beatrice—”
“No.” She lifted her chin. “You’ve had your turn being overbearing. Now, I’ll have mine.”
He huffed a laugh, self-deprecating. “I see. Well. Can’t argue with that, can I?”
“No, you can’t. Not if you know what’s good for you, anyway.” But a quick glance at his red-soaked sleeve jerked her out of their usual teasing. “I need to send for a physician,” she said, reaching for his coat. “I believe Dr. Marlow is in attendance, though with all these dratted masks, it’ll probably take longer to find him than if he had stayed back in London.”
“It is your brother’s wedding ball,” Gideon said. “Let’s not make a fuss.”
“You have been shot.”
“Grazed.”
