Page 80 of Maid for the Marquess

I huffed, feeling relief, anger, and the need to see my wife coursing through me.

“Get him off my property. He is a coward and a cheat. I will make it known to all.”

Dr. Atwood came back. “He is hit in the left quadrant, but the bullet is lodged inside. I will have to remove it.”

“Will he live?”

“I am unsure at this point. He is losing a lot of blood and—” he cleared his throat “—he is not in the best of health.”

“Take him to the inn and see to it. Not here. Return when you are done.”

He bowed. “My lord.”

“Take me home, Edward. I need to see my wife.”

“With pleasure.”

We waited as Barnett was loaded on the cart and it rambled away.

“Can you ride?”

“Yes.” I was determined to return as I departed. Head held high, shoulders straight, my pride intact. Besides, it would give Maddie great comfort to see me riding to the house.

At Knight’s side, I shook my head. “I believe I require assistance.”

Edward chuckled. “It will be gladly given, my lord.”

Once in the saddle, I grimaced again. “Damn it all to hell, that hurts.”

“Lady Wheaton will tend you.”

I thought of my wife’s gentle touch. All at once, my adrenaline left me, and I felt the sheer magnitude of what had occurred hit me. My body seemed to deflate, and I felt my limbs shaking.

“Alexander?”

“I think perhaps I might⁠—”

I couldn’t speak, unable to form words.

Edward grabbed my reins. “Shut your eyes, and for God’s sake, don’t fall off your mount.”

It wasn’t the glorious return I had imagined. I was barely able to remain upright. I heard Maddie’s voice, strained and upset. Edward’s assurances. I opened my eyes, meeting Maddie’s terrified gaze.

“I am well, my love.”

“You, sir,” she replied, her eyes bright with unshed tears, “are a liar and an imbecile.”

I wanted to laugh. To hold her and assure her that all was settled. But it was difficult to achieve when my legs refused to hold me up and I required Edward’s assistance and his strong grip to get me inside.

“Take him to his chamber,” Maddie ordered.

Upstairs, I was shocked when I realized it was my wife who tore away my sleeve. She muttered and tutted while attending me, ignoring my low groans of pain and discomfort.

“The baron?” she asked Edward, who was assisting her.

“Alexander shot him after he took a second attempt at hitting him.”

“I thought you said it would be one shot!” she exclaimed, horrified.