Page 95 of How to Start a Scandal

‘Seth.’ It wasn’t the baritone of a soldier, but the pitch of a woman’s voice. Violet’s voice.

He turned in her direction as she lifted her hand and brought it down hard on Mr Pattinson’s head. His eyes went wide as blood flowed from the wound, washing over his face, over his pale eyes. Like Brent.

Brent had pale blue eyes. They’d met Seth’s just before—

Everything around Seth moved impossibly slowly, the way it had when the cannonball had collided with Brent’s body. Pattinson glared at Violet and drew his gun back in an obvious attempt to strike her with it.

All at once, everything clicked into place and Seth’s mind fell back on instinct. He wasn’t an earl—he was a soldier facing his enemy. He took aim at Pattinson’s face, braced for the kick of the weapon and pulled the trigger.

The force of his gun jolted his arms, a familiar sensation he was well prepared for. Pattinson’s head snapped back and he dropped to the ground. Seth stared trance-like at the body slumped on the ground atop a growing puddle of blood.

‘Susan.’ Violet grabbed his arm as she ran past, breaking whatever spell death wove around him.

Together, they loosened Susan’s ropes and freed the maid. Once she was safe, Seth put his attention fully on Violet, noting the dust peppering her dark hair and the smattering of blood on her neck and face.

‘Are you hurt?’ he asked.

She shook her head slowly, her eyes wide in the way one looked when they witnessed death for the first time. ‘Oh, Seth, he was planning to kill us.’

Seth’s back tensed with irritation. ‘I should have shot him first.’

‘It doesn’t matter.’ She shook her head. ‘I thought we were all going to die, that I’d never have a chance...’ Tears filled her eyes and her lower lip trembled. ‘That I’d never have the chance to tell you I loved you.’

He lifted his arm to put it around her shoulders when a sharp pain lanced through his side. One he had been acquainted with several times in his life. He’d been shot.

He glanced down at his side to assess the damage and grimaced at the hole torn through his red waistcoat, glistening with blood.

‘Seth,’ Violet exclaimed. ‘You’ve been shot.’

A light-headed sensation fogged around his brain. ‘So I have.’

It was more than his waistcoat that was wet with blood. So, too, were his black breeches. His white stockings were stained crimson and droplets splashed the filthy ground around even him. He regarded it with a momentary confusion. Where had all the blood come from?

He staggered and small hands caught him, keeping him upright.

‘Seth?’ Violet said, her words somewhere distant and faint.

He whispered her name and then the ground rose up to meet him as he collapsed.

Violet waited outside Seth’s bedchamber door, her heart lodged firmly in her throat. The physician had been with him for well over an hour.

She paced down the hall, passing the worried faces of the Dowager Lady Dalton, Lady Caroline, Gibbons and even her own parents. Hedgehog sat at Lady Caroline’s side, one eye partially obscured by a ridiculous yellow bonnet. Felicity had sent him there to be of assistance in keeping everyone’s spirits elevated. Thus far, they all felt as dejected as Hedgehog looked.

Nash’s injuries had been stitched closed and he was recovering in one of the guest rooms. Harold and Burton had both suffered head wounds and were also recovering in guest rooms. It was now Seth they were all worried about.

The physician finally emerged from the room. His mouth was set in a grim line, but then Dr Franklin’s mouth was always set in a grim line.

Violet ran to him. ‘Will he recover?’

Doctor Franklin studied her from the bent bridge of his nose. ‘He will, but he will need a considerable amount of rest.’ He sighed. ‘Lord Dalton has been asking after you and won’t be put off.’

Violet peered into the sunlit room behind the physician. ‘May I go to him?’

Doctor Franklin stepped back to allow her entry into the bedchamber. ‘By all means.’

Violet strode swiftly, but quietly, into the large bedchamber. The last time she’d been inside, she lay snuggled in the red-velvet bed with Seth, their bodies damp with sweat from sport and their naked limbs tangled in soft sheets.

He sat up in bed now with only a slight grimace. ‘Violet. Thank God you’re safe.’