Jonathan Barrett Gentleman Vampire (126 page)

Some of her anger faded. “They were new or pretended to be so. I’ve an eye for faces, but that doesn’t work when the face is covered. Why in God’s name did they shoot you?”

I could not give a good reply, only adding again that I’d not been shot. A blatant lie, for I’d been caught square in the chest, but it was important—I remembered why, now—that I maintain the fiction that the shootist had missed.

“You must be wrong, sir,” she said, glancing at the pool. “There’s blood aplenty in that bath or my name is Queen Charlotte.”

I followed her gaze and saw the water was not a faint pink, but a decidedly nasty and unmistakable red. The pistol ball had inflicted a substantial portion of damage to my flesh, but that same flesh had healed itself, a miraculous but painful process made worse when my head struck the tile steps. Either injury should have caused me to vanish, but I had a lurking suspicion the wine had mucked things up.

Oliver stared at me, wide of eye and open of jaw. I’d told him about my past experiences with pistols and rifles, and he’d apparently just worked out what had really happened. Afraid he might blurt something, I fastened him with sharp look and shook my head once. He gulped and cleared his throat.

“Nosebleed,” he pronounced in good imitation of the pedantic tones used by physicians when they were absolutely certain about something, particularly about something beneath their notice.

“Nosebleed?” asked Mandy.

He nodded emphatically and with a delicate touch pried one of my eyelids up with his thumb as though he were giving a normal examination to any of his other patients. “Oh, yes. My poor cousin is frequently subject to them. Alarming, but harmless. This one must have been brought on by this unconscionable attack.”

Mandy snorted, either in acceptance of or derision for his diagnosis; it was hard to say. She then noticed all the people who had crowded in and barked an order for them to remove themselves. While she was occupied, Oliver caught my eye and mouthed the word
Mohocks,
drawing up his eyebrows to make it into a question. I nodded once. We frowned at each other.

“I would very much like to go home,” I whispered.

“Are you able?” he asked, astonished.

“I should be. And if not, I will be regardless.”

Mandy overheard. “Lord bless you, sir, but you can stay until you’re more recovered.” I could see in her face that this invitation was anything but what she really wanted to say. Hers was a reluctant hospitality, her desire for us to immediately leave coming hard against common Christian charity and the natural wish not to lose a client with such deep pockets as my cousin.

“You’re kind, but it’s best that we go so you can put your house in order as soon as may be.”

“Perhaps,” Oliver added, “you might have one of your men hire a carriage from somewhere to take us home.”

Not quite successful at hiding her relief at this proposal, Mandy promised to see what she could do and left to do it. On her way out she cleared the room of remaining stragglers.

Oliver continued to kneel by me, playing the part of attending physician, but as soon as the door closed his shoulders drooped and he released a great sigh.

“Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yes, though I’ve been better. I just need a little time.”

“What
really
happened?”

“I was shot. Dueling pistol. You’ll likely find the ball still in the bath.”

He went back on his heels, biting his lip. “Dear God. And there’s no mark on you. How can that be?”

“I’ll ask Nora, should I get the chance.”

“And I shall thank her, should I get one as well. If not for her you’d be—” His gaze flicked to the pool, then he suddenly rose up to pace the room. He’d passed the point of being able to hold in his emotions any longer and was in sore need of expressing them. “Of all the vicious, cowardly. . . .”

I rested and let him rant against my would-be killer. I’d have indulged in some myself, but was yet feeling a bit frail. Strength would soon return in full measure; if only peace of mind could come as well. The horror I’d been through made that impossible, nor would I know peace again until I’d dealt with the instigators of this outrage.

When Oliver divested himself of the worst of his anger, I asked for his assistance to stand, which he instantly provided. The pain in my head was more of an unpleasant hindrance than the one in my chest, for it affected my ability to balance. I excused myself to him and sought relief by briefly vanishing. Again, though difficult to achieve, it worked a charm on both complaints, but upon returning, I found I’d traded two specifically located hurts for an overall weariness.

“You look perfectly awful,” he said. He didn’t look too well himself, but at least he was dressed or nearly so with only a partially tied neck cloth and some buttons left undone. He must have finished early with his evening’s entertainment.

“Which is exactly how I feel, but a little refreshment from any stable in the city should fix me up again.” Something unpolluted by wine, I silently added.

He looked at the pool again. “But I thought. . . that is . . . didn’t you . . . with the girls?”

“As it happens I did. That’s
my
blood, not theirs.”

“Oh, that’s all ri—I mean . . . but I thought when you were with them you. . . .” He turned a fierce pink about the ears.

Good lord, no wonder he’d looked so odd when Mandy had pointed out the state of the water.

“I’m not wasteful, Oliver. Now stop being miserable. What’s in the pool happened when I was shot. I need to replace it, then I’ll be fine. Are the girls all right?”

“I don’t know. I suppose they must be.”

“Look into it, will you? They were asleep, but may have seen something after the shooting.”

He was reluctant to leave, but though tired to the bone, I was able to fend for myself. I was dressed, feeling the better for it, and ready to leave at his return.

“They’re right as rain, though frightened,” he said. “They didn’t have anything to tell, sad to say. The wine they drank left ’em fairly befuddled so they’re only just now understanding what’s happened, and even they can hardly believe it.”

“Then including you that makes four of us.”

He grunted. “You must have made an impression on them, Coz, for they were most concerned about your well-being. I tried my best to assure them of it. I think, they’ll have a warm welcome for you the next time.”

“Much good it will do either of us. Mandy Winkle won’t let us within a mile of the place after this.”

“Oh, she’ll settle down. She’s not happy, but knows none of this is your fault. We had a short talk, and I fell in with her idea that the men were thieves after your purse.”

“That’s some good luck.”

“Don’t crow too soon about it. She understands more than she’s letting on to the others. If the bastards were real thieves they’d have been busy stealing from everyone, not roaring through the place with their playacting, then blazing away once they’d identified you. Mandy knows this, knows they were trying to kill you, but she’s not keen to let it get out. It’s bad for business. You’re not planning to report this to a magistrate, are you?”

“Much as I’d like to, it wouldn’t be practical. I’ve nothing to tell that wouldn’t eventually do injury to our family if the story got out. Besides, the courts generally keep daylight hours.”

“Then that’s a relief for all of us, as Mandy’s not keen having the law in, either. We’ll also not have to worry about her carrying tales. She’s as shut as a clam when it suits her.”

That was good to know. “What did you see of any of this?”

“Damned little. I was in one of the dry rooms toasting the health of the wench I’d been with when I heard them tearing around.” From that point his account was similar to my own experience, of hearing the progress of joking and laughter up the hall that ended with a pistol shot. “Then it was women screaming and people rushing about in the way. I saw the last of the bastards tear past me—he was in a mask so it must have been one of ’em. Didn’t think to stop him or give chase, just stood there like a sheep.” He scowled, going pink again.

“Thank God for that,” I told him, causing him to look up for an explanation. “They might all have been armed. If they’ve got the kind of cowardly brass to walk in and shoot a man in his bath, then they won’t think twice about cutting down another trying to stop their escape. You did well by doing nothing and I’m glad of it.”

That seemed to ease any hard feelings he’d taken on himself for his lack of action. He shrugged. “It wasn’t just any man in his bath, y’know. It was
you.
They made a special point of getting your name first. Why would strangers try to murder you?”

“Because they might be friends of my enemies?”

“Ridley and Tyne? I know, stupid question. Of course it has to be them.”

“I can think of no others bearing a grudge, but for my influence to have worn off so fast. . . .” Granted, I hadn’t that much experience in changing the dispositions of others, but I couldn’t fathom how either man could have shaken free so quickly.

“Maybe their friends had some influence of their own. Nothing like falling back in with ill company to make bad habits easier to resume.”

I nodded, having no better suggestion to make.

“But how could these fellows know where you’d be? That lot who chased us from Ridley’s place were afoot. Then again, it may not have been all of them. Just one man on a horse could have followed us this far and we’d not have noticed him.”

“Then it’s best we get home to Elizabeth in case—”

“Good God, yes!” The mention of her name and the hint that she might be in peril got him moving almost too fast for me to keep up. I wasn’t too worried for Elizabeth’s safety, though; the men had been specifically after me. My present concern was the possibility of there being some immediate endangerment to Oliver since he was in my company.

But I learned Mandy had ensured the street outside her door was clear of everyone except her own lads. A fearsome-looking lot, they saw to it that we were safely loaded into a smartly turned out carriage and sent on our way without additional incident.

“Well-a-day, but I think this is Mandy’s own conveyance,” Oliver said admiringly as he took in the silk and velvet trimmings within. “Certainly gives one an idea of the sort of profit she turns. Did you see the horses? They looked like racers; we’ll be home soon enough if not sooner in this wonder.”

As the hour was late, the streets were fairly clear of the worst of the crowds. I might have been able to make better time on horseback, but not by much. I could have certainly arrived faster by floating home on the wind, except for being much too tired to try. And cold. I grunted agreement and wrapped my cloak more tightly around my shivering body. It didn’t seem to help.

“Uncommonly kind of her to lend it to us, don’t you think?” he asked. “I’ll have to find a way to thank her—aside from going back after a decent interval and dropping another purseful of guineas on her. What do you say?”

He was only trying to cheer me again. That had been the whole reason behind our going out, after all. It had succeeded well up to a point. I shrugged, unwilling to speak through my chattering teeth.

“Here now, it’s cold, but not that cold. You must have gotten too used to the heat and now this outside air is hurting twice as hard as it might. I told you that bathing was dangerous to your health—in more ways than one it seems. Your hair’s still wet, too. If you’d just shave your head and get a wig like the rest of us you wouldn’t have to worry about catching a chill.”

An ugly gasping sound came from me, suspending his prattle. The gasp came again; I choked, trying to force it back into the icy depths of my belly. Desperate, I sucked in air and tried to hold it; it hiccupped out again.

“Here now,” Oliver repeated, but in a tone different from the mock scolding he’d just used. “There’s a good chap, you’ll be all right.”

I felt a fool and was bitterly embarrassed, but there was no helping it.

“You’ve had a dreadful shock is all,” he told me. “Nothing to worry about. There’s a good chap.”

The hiccups wrenched away from my futile effort at control and turned into true sobs. I doubled over, unable to stop, and wept into my folded arms. Oliver put a steadying hand on my shoulder and kept it there the whole time, occasionally giving me a reassuring pat and telling me in a low voice that I’d be fine, just fine. After a long, difficult bout of it, the sobs came less frequently, then ceased. Sitting up slowly with all the grace of an old man, I leaned back into the seat, feeling absolutely wretched.

“Sorry,” I mumbled. It hardly seemed, nor was it in truth, an adequate apology.

“For what? Finally having a reaction?”

“It’s so bloody stupid of me to be like this.” My vision was so thick with tears I couldn’t see a damned thing. I fumbled out a handkerchief and roughly scoured my face as though to wipe away the mortification.

“You give me the name of any man who could do better given your circumstances and I’ll adopt
him
for a favorite cousin. You’ve been through a terrible ordeal; why shouldn’t you be upset?”

“It’s not as though I’d never been through others.”

“Those others don’t matter as much as the one you’ve just had, and don’t tell me you can get used to someone trying to murder you, because that has to be impossible.”

“But I just
sat
there and let it happen. How could I allow it?”

“Allow it? Listen to yourself, you great ninny. You act as if it was your own fault the man did what he did. Do you really think that?”

After a minute I was able to answer. “No, I don’t think that, but I
feel
it. There’s a difference.”

“Yes, I understand the difference. None better. You recall how I was the night of Mother’s funeral? I was in a pretty state then, was I not?”

He’d not said much about that night, of how he’d been in the same condition in which I presently found myself, and the incident that erupted between us, but his mention brought it vividly to mind. I’d seen him at his worst, just as he saw me now.