Daniel was already striding outside and everyone followed him. Lucien’s younger brother lay on the ground with a blanket over his shoulders, the butler kneeling across him.
‘He is in need of a doctor, my lord.’ The servant looked worried. His sister simply tipped her head back and wailed, a loud and awful noise that filled all the space around her.
‘Stop it.’ Daniel gave her no quarter and surprise made her cease. Already he was lifting the boy in his arms and bringing him inside, shouting orders for one of his staff to ride to find the doctor and to another to make ready a bed. Blood dripped across his dress jacket and soaked the bright white fabric of his shirt.
Once the boy was lying on a sofa, Daniel took a blanket from the chair and ripped it into long bandages, fastening them tightly above the injury. The rate of bleeding slowed as he ordered his butler to exert pressure on the offending thigh.
Mrs Orchard had brought through hot water and towels and another pile of quilts, one of which she proceeded to wrap Daniel’s crying sister in. Gwendolyn’s continued sobbing was obviously getting on everyone’s nerves, so Amethyst led the girl to a chair and sat her down.
‘When did you last see your sister?’
She could tell Daniel was listening though his attention was still on the injured boy.
‘An...hour back. But there...were people there and they were drunk and I could not find her. Andrew was in a fight. The man hit him with a metal pole, I think, and there was so much blood. I knew Montcliffe was close so I helped him into the carriage and brought him here.’
She had begun to shake quite badly, the shock of it all settling in.
‘You did well and he already looks better.’
The paleness of Andrew’s face was alarming, but he had begun to shiver less violently and accept small sips of sweet hot tea. Daniel moved away.
‘Keep them both warm, Mrs Orchard, and give them each some brandy. I am going to find Caroline.’
Amethyst stood. ‘I would like to come, too. I am a good rider and you might need a woman to help with your sister.’
Uncertainty flickered across his face, but the situation was too dire to lose any more time in trying to persuade her to stay back.
‘Very well. Meet me in the stables in ten minutes. I won’t wait longer.’
* * *
They rode through the growing dusk at speed, the sound of his horse’s hooves matching the beat of hers. He was astonished at her prowess.
If his sister was hurt in any way... He shook away the thought and drew in his reins, waiting as Amethyst Cameron came in beside him. Nay, Amethyst Montcliffe now.
‘That is the roof of the inn there.’ He tipped his head to listen, music coming from the same direction.
‘It’s a good sign, I think. If they were hurting your sister, they wouldn’t sing.’
He almost smiled, but didn’t. Rape followed few rules. My God, he had seen that time and time again in Spain when the whole campaign had fallen to pieces, and the baser nature of men had come to the fore.
‘Stay here and mind the horses. If anyone comes, scream as loud as you can and I will hear you.’
‘No.’ A knife was in her hand, wicked, sharp and ready. ‘I can help you.’
‘You know how to use it?’
‘With proficiency.’
The look in her eyes didn’t brook argument. Taking the reins of both horses, he fastened them to a branch. ‘Stay behind me, then, and if I say run, you run. Understand?’
Gesturing her assent, she stepped back, the darkness of the riding clothes she had changed into blending with the shadow and reminding him of some of the women in Spain who had marched to the call of the drum and followed their men into battle. Brave and surprising. He liked having her there, a point of reference in the darkness and another pair of watchful eyes.
If anyone had hurt his sister, he would deal with them without a backward glance, he swore that he would. The anger in him shivered over disbelief.
The singing men were outside, gathered around a table and drinking. One was old enough to be his grandfather and the other two looked to be so drunk they would be no threat to anyone save themselves. Motioning to Amethyst, he skirted around a line of trees which brought them up to the front door of the inn. A few patrons were drinking at the bar, but there was no sign of any problem. When a faint noise from above caught his attention, he surged up the stairs and into a room at one end of the passageway.
Caroline was in a corner, crouched down with a broken bottle held out in front of her and her dress ripped down one arm. Three young men were trying to coax her out, their method of doing so bringing a shout from Daniel’s throat and filling the room with fury.
A poker sat in one of their hands, the ashes from a fire scattered about their feet. When he looked at his sister again he saw the angry mark of a burn on the bare skin of her upper arm.
The perfect certainty he had always felt in battle suddenly claimed him and he moved forward.
* * *
Daniel exploded into action without warning. In less than a minute three men lay at his feet, with barely a noise, hardly a movement. Amethyst had never seen someone fight like that before, the grace of his fury unwinding into a lethal force, the strength of his fists and body simply obliterating any resistance.
Tenderness took over as he brought his sister into his arms, checking her for other injuries and holding her as she shook violently without making a sound.
‘You are safe, Caroline. We are here to take you home. Did they hurt you elsewhere?’
‘No. They asked me to have a drink with them. I know I should not have said yes, but I couldn’t find Gwen or Andrew and so I agreed. They brought me upstairs and I knew then...’ She couldn’t go on and her brother bent to lift her into his arms.
‘Tell me if anyone so much as looks at us, Amethyst.’ He made no effort to keep his voice down as he retraced his steps.
Finally they walked out through the front door and into the evening, the soldier in her husband so very clearly seen. No one spoke. No one touched them. No one moved in the stillness of the oncoming night, save them.
Then the horses were before them, whickering at their presence. Amethyst held her knife ready until they were mounted. Daniel threw his cloak around his sister and wrapped her in tight.
‘Get on your horse, Amethyst.’
She did it in one quick movement and he tipped his head, gesturing a direction as he spoke.
‘They won’t follow.’ The strength in the Earl’s voice was comforting. His hair in the oncoming darkness had fallen loose and lay across his shoulders and he had collected a bruise on his cheek from one flying fist. He had never looked more beautiful to her or more distant.
* * *
Much later Daniel called her to his library. Each of the injured young people had been seen to by the doctor and sent to bed and all were expected to have made a good recovery by the morning. Her father had long since retired, but Amethyst had stayed in the downstairs salon reading just to make sure that there was no more trouble.
The Earl was standing at the window as she walked in. He had changed his clothes and now wore a shirt and a loose cravat. His jacket was draped across a chair nearby and he held a drink in his hand.
‘Can I offer you something?’
Amethyst