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“Certainly, because I know you are capable of finding your way into the War Office and making them employ you as a spy.”
“Let us finish this before we think of espionage.” She kissed his cheek and sat up, her gaze on the papers on the desk with a list of the names of everyone they knew could be after them. Paxton had given him a list of everyone Elizabeth had written about, and they had selected those they deemed dangerous from it.
Rhys stared at her stocking in his hand then back at her before he smiled and tossed the stocking to the side. No matter how much he wanted them to play, the matter before them took precedence.
“Rhys,” she said, her tone serious. “You said that William has never been knocked off his feet before.”
“Yes. Every time he fell in the ring was intentional.” He leaned over her shoulder to look at the names she was concentrating on. “But he was knocked down in London by this person that we are looking for.”
Elizabeth looked up at him. “Do you know anyone who is stronger than William?”
Rhys thought for a moment, but no name or face came to mind. “He does not have to be stronger than William. He could do it if he is a skilled fighter. William is only a pugilist, but this man might know other forms of combat.”
“Then it could be anyone,” she sighed, looking somewhat dejected.
“I think we have spent too much time on this list, Liza,” he said gently. “Perhaps we should take a walk.” He took her hand and raised it to his lips. “We could convince Brutus to leave my grandmother’s side and come with us.”
She smiled. “Yes, I think we should.” He rose and pulled her up as a knock sounded at the door. He glanced down at her to make certain her dress was as it should be before he called for the visitor to enter. Webster walked in and bowed.
“Mr. Westwood is awake, My Lord.”
“Excellent.” He began to pull Elizabeth with him, but she stopped. When he turned, he saw that she was putting on her shoe, and he chuckled inwardly.
They went to William’s bedchamber and saw him sitting up, looking the worse for wear. The swelling on his face had subsided such that he could open his eyes, but the bruising was a deep purple, and his eyes were red. Following the physician’s advice, they had given him a good dose of opium to keep him asleep and ease his pain.
“William, how do you feel?” Rhys asked as he stood with Elizabeth beside his bed.
“Like…I…have…been…mauled…by bears.” William laughed a little. His speech was slurred and fragmented, and Rhys decided that now might not be the best time to question him about who had entered the cottage and done this to him.
Rhys placed a hand on William’s hood shoulder. “You will feel better soon.” William nodded and closed his eyes again, and very shortly afterward, he fell asleep again. Rhys walked around to the other side of the bed to check William’s shoulder, and Rhys breathed with relief when he saw that the wound had closed well.
He returned to Elizabeth and said, “His shoulder is healing.”
She smiled, looking relieved, too. “I should speak to Cook about his meals. Do you know what he prefers to eat?”
“Anything you can add whiskey to,” Rhys jested, and she chuckled. “Come, let us allow him to rest.”
Webster was in the hallway when they stepped out of William’s room. “Your visitors have arrived, My Lord,” he informed Rhys.
“I believe they are the private eyes I sent for,” he whispered to Elizabeth. “I will see you later.” He kissed her hand, lingering when he glimpsed the worry in her eyes.
“And I will have a word with Cook about William’s meals.” She gave him a small smile.
When they parted, he felt as though a piece of him was being taken away. Since William’s attack, he had not allowed them to be apart for too long, but he would have to leave the Castle with the private eyes to inspect the cottage where the crime had occurred. He hoped that it would not take very long.
* * *
Rhys left one of the investigators in Cullfield to find more information and returned to the Castle with the other to discuss the situation. They were on their way to his study when Webster found them and told Rhys that William had asked to speak with him.
He looked considerably better than when Rhys saw him earlier in the day, so Rhys proceeded to introduce William to the private eye, Mr. Redman.
“I am glad to see you are more awake,” Rhys said.
“I refused to take more opium.” William raised a heavy hand to touch one of his swollen eyes. “I look splendid, do I not?”
“Indeed, you do.”
A deep sigh expanded William’s chest. “I suppose I can speak in front of Redman?”
