A Bound Of Honour Part 32

"Tom, fetch the surgeon to Trees. The rest of you collect our friends and follow."

"Aye, m'lord," echoed all.

Mallatt whipped the team up even as Cavilon made to step into the coach.

Lord Adrian lay unconscious in Juliane's arms, her hand pressing the pad tightly to his wound.

"Another," she snapped as the warm blood seeping through stained her hands.

Cavilon knelt on the coach floor. "Put his shoulders in your lap. You will be able to staunch the blood more easily. I will help."

The coach rolled on endlessly. Infrequent glimpses of Adrian's face in the moonlight fed Juliane's worst

fears for his life. She knew her happiness now lay only with him.

Finally there was a last lurch and Mallatt's shouts announced that they were at home at last.

A sleepy-eyed Holdt was jerked from drowsiness as Cavilon handed out the blood-spattered children.

"Quickly," the comte ordered. "The earl is wounded."

The remainder of the night was a blur to Juliane. Lady Tretain took charge. The arrival of the surgeon signalled their removal from Adrian's chamber.

"Bess has a bath drawn for you. We can do nothing but await the surgeon's judgment," the dowager told

her.

"The children have been given the fright of their lives. You must make yourself presentable and go to them."

"But I-" Juliane turned to Adrian's door.

"To your bath. We will be told how he does." With a wave of her hand, the dowager countess motioned

Juliane away.

Morning brought a false calm. The surgeon had departed with a.s.surances that the shot had been removed, and although his lordship had lost a lot of blood, his recovery was certain, barring infection.

Leaving a potion and instructions, he went his way, promising to return by evening to check his patient.

Juliane had seen to the children and then sat with Lord Adrian. She snuffed out the candles as full light flooded the room. He stirred. Taking his hand, she murmured softly, soothingly.

Adrian lay still for some time, then stirred once more. Muttering, he began tossing about.

"Mallatt," Juliane called. "We must hold him still. The wound will open.

"Adrian," she urged, "rest. You are at Trees."

"Lie still now. You were shot. If you keep moving, you will start the bleeding again. Hush now, lie quietly."

"Angel-my angel," he struggled to open his eyes. "Lost her."

"No one is lost," Juliane said softly, tears in her eyes. If only he were to speak so of her. Feeling him relax in her hold, she blinked back her tears. His eyes were open. His feverish gaze was neither hard nor cold as it met hers.

"Angel," he sighed happily. "You ... came ... back."

Mallatt deemed his presence unnecessary and quietly left the chamber.

"You were wounded, Adrian. The man in the coach-he shot you," she managed.

He closed his eyes tiredly and shook his head slowly. "Were you ... harmed?"

"No," she answered. "The children were frightened witless but are well now. Andre has asked after

you."

Lord Adrian smiled weakly. "What happened to the one who shot me?"

"He was badly wounded."

"Cavilon," he sighed. "Always dependable."

"You must sleep now."

"I must speak with Louis-he must take care of Dougherty."

"When you awake."

Closing his eyes, Adrian relaxed. Soon he slipped into a deep healing sleep.

Lady Tretain entered her son's chamber quietly. "How is he?"

Leaving her chair, Juliane whispered, "He is sleeping peacefully. Can you sit with him? I must see Comte

de Cavilon."

"The comte is having a rather more 'stimulating' morn than he would wish. I imagine he will want....

Well, let him explain." Lady Tretain took Juliane's hand and led her into the hall.

"Mallatt," she said to the valet hovering by the door, "sit with him. We shall be back directly.

"You," she instructed Juliane, "go directly to my sitting room. I will extract the comte." She smiled conspiratorially, then moved regally down the hall.

Comte de Cavilon joined Juliane in Lady Tretain's sitting room just minutes later. "Your thoughts are deep, my lady," he noted as he walked slowly to Juliane. She unsuccessfully tried to smile. "We have little time," he sighed. "What do you mean?" she asked, puzzled. Briefly he explained about the runner, Dougherty. When she seemed to recognize the man, he asked,"Do you know the man?" "No, Adrian mumbled something about you having to take care of Dougherty." "I suppose he thinks it juste I am saddled with the task of smoothing things over." "What trouble can Dougherty cause?" "Much, but he won't. We will let him take the credit for last night's work. He wishes your statement and then he will go."

"But what can I tell him?"

"Adrian has told him you were married in France. Simply tell of going to Rouen, what you found

there-mention that you planned to meet Adrian at Trees. Have no fear. I will guide you and will

interrupt if necessary."

"Thank you. Adrian is fortunate to have a friend such as you." She paused once more. "Did you learn what the men wanted?"

"Oui-the wounded men spoke of many things," the comte hesitated, thinking how the one she had shothad somehow escaped during the night. Not wishing her to worry, he added, "before they died. It seemsde la Croix-"

"Baron de la Croix," Juliane interrupted him relieved to know the men would never trouble them again.

"Then it was Andre's father who was responsible."

"No. A cousin. Andre is now Baron de la Croix. I will explain this all later. We must go to Dougherty now."

Awakening with a start, Lady Juliane relaxed as she realized she was safe at Trees. It had been an

interminable ten days since that long and terrible night in which Adrian had been wounded.

He had awakened with a clear head three days after the incident BUT an invisible barrier had slipped between them. There were few excuses to go to him once he was out of danger and he had not sent for her.

Juliane rose and pulled on her wrapper, her eyes on the closed connecting doors. How long would this go on? Was there no hope? "Good morn, my lady. You look well rested. Lady Tretain said you were to breakfast before you did anything." Bess held out the tray. "I wouldn't be surprised if her ladyship popped in to see if you were eating.

"They say Lord Tretain is much improved this morn. He ate a hearty breakfast." Bess prattled on as her mistress picked at the food.

As much of her meal choked down as she could manage, Juliane dressed carefully in the green watered-silk gown that Adrian had chosen for her long ago. Her coiffure arranged, she walked about her chamber fretfully, wondering if she should go to Adrian or await his summons.

Deep in thought, she jumped at a knock on her connecting door. She rushed to it, full of fear and longing s. Comte de Cavilon stepped back as she pulled it open. "Why," he said, taking her hand, "what has upset you?" Then, noticing her eyes straining for what lay beyond the end of the pa.s.sageway, he laughed gently. "You think he is worse? No, he is so well recovered that he is complaining of the lack of your company." Forcing slow steps, Juliane went to the bedside. Lord Adrian's eyes danced, then darkened at her quiet demeanour. "You did not wish to see me?" he asked quietly. Juliane felt the warmth of a slow blush begin to creep up her cheeks. Did she dare say what she felt? "I am ... pleased ... that you are so improved, my lord. "What is it?" she asked, leaning forward with concern as he frowned. "You are being unfair." "Unfair?!" "Yes, lean closer, please," Adrian whispered. When she did so, he kissed her-causing her to blush fiercely as Cavilon smiled at both. "I told you I keep my word." "You are incorrigible," she stated with a half-hidden smile. Shaking her head Juliane sat in the chair Cavilon brought to the bedside. "Louis, why do you not make things clear for Juliane?" Adrian reached for her hand. "I will try to keep this simple," Cavilon smiled as he gazed at the pair. "Baron de la Croix left his home to try and protect his family. He had reports that his cousin-Eutin Renoit-was planning to use the unrest caused by the revolutionaires to make himself heir to the t.i.tle and possessor of the family's wealth.

"The baron urged his wife to come with him-even to flee to England, but she refused. Eutin was responsible for her death. He then caught the baron and demanded he hand over the de la Croix "Eutin learned of your visit, about the children's survival, and began his pursuit, certain you had the

jewels.

"Cora was killed because she did not have them and knew nothing. The attempts to take Andre were made to force you to hand over the jewels."

Juliane shook her head. It was fantastic; she had had no inkling.

"Eutin failed in more than one way," continued the comte. "One more thing you should realize, my lady,"

his face saddened. "With the mob ruling France, Andre's t.i.tle is useless, his estates gone."