“I am, at least as all right as anyone would be in similar circumstances, I suppose. But Harry’s bleeding.”
“Jist a nick, ma’am,” the boy said cheekily, his head against Dany’s breast as he smiled up at her in some adoration. “Jist a wee dizzy, that’s all.” He then wound both arms around Dany’s waist.
“I’ll pull to the side of the road, once I’m certain nobody’s in pursuit.”
“That sounds reasonable,” Dany told him. “From the look of his trousers, he was only grazed by the ball. Mostly, it ripped them. Um, could you spring the horses a little more? This may sound silly, but I think my back itches.”
He grinned at her. “Mine, too. We’re already seeing more traffic on the road. I’ll soon have to slow down in any case.”
“Then do that, and I’ll tend to poor Harry here as we keep moving.”
“Poor Harry, m’mum’s only baby,” the boy said on a sigh, snuggling even closer, until Coop was tempted to give the boy a clap on the ear. Except that the lad had taken a shot clearly intended for him, a shot that could just as easily have found Dany.
They’d put a good mile between themselves and the failed assassin, and now there were two coaches riding behind them, and an empty farm wagon in front of them. They were slowed to a near walk.
“You can let go now, Harry, unless you think you might faint?”
“Yes, m’lord.”
“Close your eyes, Harry,” Dany told him as she bent forward, lifted her skirt and proceeded to tear a strip off her petticoat. “There. Now let’s just wrap this around your leg, all right?”
“Yes, ma’am. Should I...should I be droppin’ m’drawers?”
“No!”
“Honestly, Coop, there’s no need to shout,” Dany told him, laughing. “Thank you, Harry, but that won’t be necessary. I only want to put pressure against your wound. That’s what my papa did for my brother the day he thought it would be fun to see if he could toss his new knife in the air and catch it.”
“Don’t have no brother,” Harry said. “No papa, neither. Jist me and m’ma, and she’s still on the baron’s estate, all alone an’ lonely like.”
Dany finished wrapping the leg and tying the ends. “You’ll see her soon enough. Won’t he, my lord? And with a nice new set of livery. He’s been so brave, hasn’t he?”
They were entering the outskirts of London. “Anything else, Miss Foster? Perhaps his very own pony?”
“M’very own pony!” Harry grabbed Dany in a fine rendition of a bear hug. “Oh, thank’ee, Miss Foster, ma’am, thank-ee!”
Dany patted his head and made a silly face at Coop. “You’re very welcome,” she said, obviously content to take all the credit.
Coop shook his head and made the turn that would lead back to Portman Square. She made Minerva look like nothing more than a rank amateur...and somehow, he couldn’t be happier.
“ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?” Dany asked her sister as she peered through the semidarkness in the bedchamber, as all the draperies had been pulled tightly shut.
She probably should have asked that of the pair of maids collapsed on chairs, mounds of toweling at their feet, one still holding a horsehair brush in one hand. Both scrambled to their feet when Dany spoke, gathering up the toweling and hastening from the room, probably to beg the housekeeper for restorative cups of tea and buttered biscuits.
“No, I’m not all right,” the countess answered sourly from the bed. “Only you could ask such a ridiculous question, Daniella. My head aches from all the repeated washings, my face is still covered in splotches and I have all but begged someone to bring me some cucumber pickles in cream and no one has paid me the least amount of attention. Where have you been?”
“You said you didn’t care where I went,” Dany reminded her as she hopped up onto the bed. “Your hair looks much better, Mari. And it definitely smells better in here.”
“I will not consume chicken again, not for the remainder of my life!”
“Yes, fowl creatures,” Dany agreed, although she knew she was the only one who would appreciate her small joke. “But you’re all right? I mean, in general? With the baby and all?”
Mari pulled a pink lace bed jacket more closely around her. “You certainly are persistent today. Yes, I’m fine. Has the baron recovered my letters as yet? Is that where you were? With the baron? Where did you go?”
There wasn’t much that could be circumspect in Dany’s answer, not if she answered truthfully. So she summoned a lie.
“We took a stroll along Bond Street and then another in Green Park, where his lordship took my hand and we disappeared into the trees so that he could kiss me. Twice, if you can imagine.”
“Oh, you did not. The baron would never so compromise you, not when he has no real plans of wedding you. Nor you him? Dany, you aren’t getting any foolish ideas, are you? I appreciate what you’re doing, but I don’t want you hurt. You are my sister.”
“No, no, of course I won’t be hurt. Yes, I was fibbing, silly. As if he’d kiss me. I wanted to be certain you were paying attention. You often don’t, you know. I don’t know why Mama thought you’d be a good chaperone.”
Mari burst into tears, which was the very last thing Dany wanted.
“I’m so, so sorry,” the countess said, taking Dany’s hands in hers. “I’m a wretched sister. I’ve set a poor example, I make silly mistakes and now I’ve confined myself to my room until these nasty, horrid splotches go away, and the Little Season will be over before we know it. What can I do to make it up to you?”
“Well, um, I’m sure I can’t know. I mean, really, Mari, you’re the best of sisters, and I’m so delighted that I am to have a niece or nephew in a few months, and I truly love being here in London in any case, even if I don’t attend another ball or musical party. Although...”
Mari squeezed her hands. “Yes, yes? What is it? Honestly, Dany, unless you want to do something totally outrageous, I’m sure I can approve. Will I approve?”
“Oliver is still traveling?” Dany asked, getting down from the bed. “He won’t come strolling in the door in the next four and twenty hours?”
“No, no. I counted out on my fingers, from the day he first said he’d return. It will be at least another three days. I simply have to be healed by then. Mrs. Timmerly said I will be, using the cream she said her mother swore by, and her mother before that. Why? Isn’t that enough time for the baron to retrieve the letters? Tell me the truth, Dany. I must know the truth. You said he knew the identity of the blackmailer.”
“True enough, but he wouldn’t tell me. Aren’t you simply itching to know?”
Mari shrugged. “I suppose so. I may have to meet him in Society at some point.” Now she shivered. “Can’t the baron just shoot him or some such thing? After he retrieves my letters, I mean.”
So much for diverting her, Dany thought, smiling inwardly. Now we’re back, as always, to Mari’s favorite subject. Herself.
“You’d ask a near-stranger to sacrifice his freedom in order to retrieve your silly letters?”
The countess sank back against the pillows. “Not for me, Dany. For the child.”
“Oh, yes, of course. The child. How could I have been so silly.