The Second Shot (The Dueling Pistols) (34 page)

Miss Lungren threw her hands against her face hard enough to bruise. "I have to stop her. Oh, no, no, no."

"I'd rather not," said Meg, but she didn't suppose it would make any difference. For all her ill health, Miss Lungren looked rather resolute—unstoppable, even.

* * *

Mr. Davies and Lord Wedmont flew up the stairs ahead of Felicity. In fact, one of the gentlemen—Felicity wasn't sure which one. They looked so alike from the back—shoved the beautiful Lady Penelope out the way as she stood on the landing at the top of the first flight of stairs near the drawing room entrance.

Felicity ran up the four flights to the third floor as fast as she could, but she was no match for the men.

"Sophie, what the bloody hell are you doing?" yelled Mr. Davies, which was how Felicity knew they were in her bedroom.

Her window stood wide open. Tony vied for room in the open window while Lord Wedmont tried to pull Mr. Davies back.

"I'm helping Master Charles back inside," came the faint but confident voice of Sophie.

"Don't move. I'm coming out to get you."

"Stay there, Keene. There are some loose tiles that probably caused Lord Algany to fall. Charles and I are light enough to not have a problem."

Felicity squeezed in between Mr. Davies and Tony. "Charles, are you all right?"

"I'm all right, Mama. I just got scared when the bad man fell."

"Yes, you are one brave lad, and we are just going to very slowly move a little bit toward the window. Bit by bit," said Sophie.

"Are we going to walk?"

"No, we are just going to scoot on our backsides," said the irrepressible Sophie.

"I shall have to kill her," muttered Mr. Davies. "I swear, I shall throttle her to death and then kill her again."

"I know," answered Lord Wedmont calmly.

"I can't watch," said Mr. Davies, but he continued to hang out the window. "Bloody hell, what is she thinking? She is with child."

"I want to be a godfather this time," said Lord Wedmont.

"If she makes it."

"And you don't kill her too badly."

All the while, Tony gripped Felicity's shoulder and said nothing.

"How could you let her go out there?" asked Mr. Davies, turning to look at Tony.

"I sent her for help."

There was a low quiet in Tony's voice that Felicity had never heard before. She turned and looked at the agony in his face, the terror that blanched his face. "Tony?"

He shook his head, his expression flat, emotionless.

"He'll be all right," she whispered.

His only response was to tighten his grip on her shoulder as they watched Sophie's painstakingly slow progress, inching over with her arm around Charles's waist. Felicity could hardly bear the wait, yet to will them to go faster was unthinkable. Finally, they made it to the window, and Lord Wedmont jerked Mr. Davies back.

Sophie lifted Charles across her body and handed him in to Felicity. She cuddled her son to her chest, his legs dangling down her sides. He was much too big to be held, but she wasn't letting loose of him, not for a long while. His arms wound tightly around her neck. She turned back around and saw Tony limp painfully toward the door.

Then Mr. Davies was pulling Sophie in the window, scolding her and rocking her in his arms.

Lord Wedmont looked over at Amelia. She motioned with her head to the door. Felicity hadn't even realized the other woman was there. Lord Wedmont tugged on Felicity's elbow, leading her out of the room. "He needs to kill her, you know."

Amelia pulled the door shut behind them.

Charles lifted his head up. "Is he really going to kill her?"

"It'll be a very small death, I'm sure," said Wedmont.

To which Amelia flushed bright red.

"He won't kill her, but they need to be alone," said Felicity to Charles. She almost envied them their passion.

"If you mind terribly, I shall throw a bucket of water on them," offered Wedmont.

"No, oh, my God, what was that shot?" Felicity had quite forgotten, in her scare over Charles on the roof, that a gun had discharged. Perhaps that had been why Tony had left so quickly once Charles was safe in the house.

* * *

William knew he couldn't hide forever, but he cowered half behind the open ballroom door and next to a potted palm. He was afraid that if he tried to descend the stairs, he would be a sitting duck. He also would leave a trail of blood that would make it all too easy to be tracked.

He pressed his handkerchief against his sleeve. His best evening jacket, too. He lifted his hand away, and the red stain, the tattered material, made him light-headed. He couldn't even stomach looking at the wound in his arm. That was what physicians were for. He clamped his soggy handkerchief back over the wound.

He leaned back against the wall, hardly daring to breathe and wondering why it was taking so long for anyone to come and investigate. He might as well die here, for all anyone even noticed his absence. Not even his new fiancée, Miss Fielding, Diana, had come searching for him. Two men and Felicity had come running up the stairs, but they hadn't looked for him, or even in the ballroom, where the shot was fired.

His assailant, and damn, he wasn't sure which sister it was, had disappeared down the servants' stairs just before the crowd of party-goers stepped out of the rose drawing room on the floor below, following the shot. They milled about the passageway, and a few of them had looked up the staircase, but no one had ventured to the top to investigate.

Without knowing where the murderess was, he sure as hell wasn't going to step out into the open. It was with tremendous relief he heard an uneven gate. Must be Sheridan, and he leaned out of his hiding spot to come face to face with Miss Lungren.

It could have been loss of blood, but more likely he was a bloody coward, and with that new fright his world went dark. His last thought was that he was sliding down the wall and he couldn't stop falling.

"Oh, my God, he's been shot!" screamed Miss Lungren.

Tony hobbled forward and managed to kneel. The left sleeve of Bedford's jacket was soaked in blood. He pulled away the handkerchief and peeled back the ripped edges of the tear in Bedford's coat.

"Is he going to die?" asked a tearful Miss Fielding.

"Not today," said Tony, seeing that the bullet hadn't even gone into his arm, although it left a nasty gouge along the top of it. "It is only a flesh wound."

Just in case, he checked Will's body to make sure the bullet hadn't skimmed over his arm and then entered elsewhere, but he could find no other holes. Even as he prodded at him, William's eyelids began fluttering.

"Tony, what is going on?" Felicity came down the passageway, carrying Charles, with Lord Wedmont and Mrs. Keeting trailing behind her. She drew up when she saw Bedford on the floor. "Oh, absolutely not."

She clapped a hand over Charles's eyes. "Is he dead?" she mouthed.

Bedford struggled to a sitting position.

"Not yet." Tony turned back to the injured man. "Who shot you, William?"

"One of the sisters. Couldn't see which one."

Miss Lungren put a hand to her forehead. "My sister brought the gun. Said we might need it in case we ran into robbers between home and London.

"Your sister brought a
gun
to a
dinner party?"
asked Amelia.

Rosalyn ignored Amelia's outrage at her sister's bad manners. "Mr. Bedford, did you say I was being poisoned?"

"We believe so," said Tony. "Which sis—"

"Were my, were my..." Miss Lungren's dark eyes focused on his face.

"Your brothers and father poisoned? We suspect so."

"Oh, my God!" She threw her hands over her face and began to shake like a wet dog emerging from a pond.

"Perhaps you should sit down," said Bedford.

But when she removed her hands, it was rage that showed on her face. "I shall kill her."

"There has been quite enough killing, Miss Lungren," said Tony.

She shot him a vicious look and ran down the stairs, calling for her sisters.

Tony lurched to his feet to follow her.

Just then Charles's nanny stumbled out of the servants' stairs and ran to Felicity, her gaze on the boy Felicity carried. "Oh, ma'am, I am so sorry. He told me I was wanted in the kitchen, and I thought with the party you might need me to help, and Charles was asleep. Is he all right?" She put her hand on Charles's back.

"He's fine and should be back in bed." She didn't set him down, though, or hand him over to his nanny. She looked agonized over the thought of putting her son back to bed after so near a miss with him, not to mention that a murderess still roamed the house.

Tony would gladly have volunteered to watch over him, but he said, "I must stop Miss Lungren and find her sisters before more damage is done."

Felicity stroked Charles's tawny curls. His hold had relaxed a little. "I have to see to Lord Algany's welfare."

Lord Wedmont grabbed a chair from the empty ballroom and took it over to the servants' stairway door. He wedged it under the handle and walked back to them. "Other than the main stairs, is there any other way up here?"

Felicity shook her head. "Not without scaling a wall."

"Then I should happily stand guard here and not let anyone pass. I shouldn't think, other than Algany, anyone has in interest in your son, and I don't think Algany shall be tackling stairs anytime soon."

A scream wafted up the stairs, and all of them looked at each other.

"Was that Lord Algany?" asked Felicity, for the scream had seemed to come from a long way down.

"Oh, Lord, I hope so," whispered Amelia.

Tony grabbed the railing to begin his painful lurch down the stairs. He couldn't allow his leg to fail him now, when he'd brought a murderer into her house, into his child's home.

Bedford rose to his feet, wobbled and said, "I'm going with you, Sheridan."

Felicity still had guests. She thrust Charles in Lord Wedmont's direction. "If anything happens to him, I shall not be responsible for my actions."

"Nor shall I," said Tony with a hard glare.

"You may have my liver if there is a hair out of place on his head. Once Keene is less occupied, he will assist me in guarding this brave chap."

"Tony, do you think this Miss Lungren has more ammunition?" asked Felicity as she followed him down the stairs.

He hoped not. Lord, he hoped not.

* * *

Felicity found Lord Algany propped on her breakfast table, alternately cursing and crying out, while a physician, with little regard for his misery, pulled on his leg.

"We're going to have to make a rig for him. Tie this leg up in the air," said the physician.

"Will he be all right?"

"It's a right bad break, though he will live. He'll be on his back a few weeks. Might have a limp forever, but I expect he'll walk again."

"Just shoot me. It is all I ask," whimpered Lord Algany.

"Could have been worse. Could have landed on his crown and then you'd have had to call an undertaker instead," joked the physician. "I shall splint his leg. Then we'll just get him home."

"May I get you anything, Lord Algany?" Felicity leaned over him. "Perhaps brandy will—"

"Please, just put me out of my misery." He grabbed her arm.

"Don't tempt me." She leaned close and whispered, "You were, after all, trying to abduct my son."

"I... What? I swear, I was not. By all that is holy, I was only introducing myself to him. I don't know why he ran out on the roof."

"You don't?" Felicity didn't believe him for a moment.

"Then I tried to get him back inside. It is on account of my attempt to
rescue
your son, from his foolhardy playing, that I have a broken leg."

With a sinking feeling, Felicity realized it would be her not-quite-six-year-old son's word against that of a peer. He'd effectively rid himself of any witnesses by sending Charles's nanny to help in the kitchens.

"I have an urge to send a servant for some black ink. What do you think, Lord Algany?"

"You bitch," he muttered.

"Worse yet, do you have any loans or such? No, don't answer, but if you do, be assured I shall own you before a fortnight is up. I'm a powerful woman, Lord Algany. You would have done better to admit the truth and throw yourself on the mercy of the court."

"Please, Mrs. Merriwether, you have nothing to gain by destroying me. I never meant to harm the child. Have I not suffered enough?"

"Likely not."
Let him stew on that a while.

"Please get him out of here as soon as you can," she said to the physician. "Then I need you to look at Mr. Bedford's arm."

"Very good, ma'am," said the physician as he gave Algany's leg another good yank.

Felicity took a deep breath and headed for the stairs. With any luck, the evil sister had been located.

* * *

"We can't find her," whispered William as soon as Felicity entered the pandemonium-filled rose drawing room. "The major and lieutenant are searching the house."

Lady Penelope was sobbing against her mother, the duchess's, breast, several of the ladies were in various stages of the vapors, and the gentlemen were doing a good deal of harrumphing and pacing.

"We've told everyone that this was an accident." William lifted his arm.

Across the room, Lady Greyston threw up her hand and fainted against the couch far too gracefully not to have practiced. That was when the guests realized that Felicity had entered the room.

Questions sailed at her head like a crowd of angry wasps. "Is Algany all right?"..."Is your son all right?"..."Whatever were they doing on the roof?"

"Good news. Lord Algany will be fine. He has a broken leg, but the physician assures me he will mend." He'd never know how much those words cost her. "My son is safe in his bed. And I must thank you all for coming, but under the circumstances, I think we might call it a night."

"Why was Lord Algany on the roof?"

"I'm afraid he claims he was rescuing my son, who had climbed out on the roof for no good reason." She delivered the words with a lofty air that, she hoped, conveyed her complete distrust of Lord Algany's explanations.