“Yes.”
When he lifted the towel, dismay claimed her features. The flow had stemmed significantly but the ragged flesh was still seeping blood.
“I fear this is beyond my skills to repair.”
“I suspected as much. I had Wilkins summon Dr. Biddowes.”
The housekeeper carefully probed awhile, her expression one of grave concern, but she kept throwing angry glances at Venetia.
Venetia, however, was inclined to forgive her since she was clearly acting out of protectiveness for her master.
When the woman made another sound of regret, Traherne stopped her. “Take heart, Mrs. Pelfrey. Of all my injuries, this is my first time being shot.”
She sniffed. “This is not a jesting matter, my lord.”
“There is no point in crying over it, either. My energies are best spent trying to find and stop the culprit before he can cause any more harm. Meanwhile, you should return to your other duties, Mrs. Pelfrey. Giles will be better off with you attending him.”
“Poor Giles is sleeping now from the laudanum.”
“I don’t want you fretting over me.”
“Well, if you are certain…”
“I am certain.”
After giving an acknowledging curtsy, she sent Venetia another censorious look and then quit the dining room.
As he covered the wound again, Venetia heard his faint sigh. “It won’t be long before half of London believes that you shot me.”
Venetia frowned in agreement. “I suppose there is no hope for it.”
His mouth curled. “I would have claimed that I discharged the pistol myself, but no one would beli
eve I could be so clumsy, since I’m a crack shot. I doubt we can contain the damage to your reputation.”
“I don’t give a fig for my reputation just now. I am worried about you. Mrs. Pelfrey is right—you are taking this far too lightly.”
“Not in the least. I simply prefer not to frighten my servants or let them think that a killer might be trying to put a period to my existence.”
Perhaps he was right to understate the danger for his servants, Venetia decided. She was badly shaken herself.
Traherne shifted the subject to her skepticism. “Now do you believe that I was run off the road this morning?”
“Yes, I believe you.” Venetia hesitated. “I suppose I must apologize for that. I practically accused you of lying.”
“It was not the first time you have doubted my word of honor.”
“No,” she said in a small voice. “I should have trusted you more.”
“Yes, you should have.”
Looking away from the intent blue depths of his eyes, she leaned over him and gently touched his hand holding the towel in place. “I am so very sorry you were hurt.”
Traherne’s tone turned curious. “Why such distress? You were ready to shoot me yourself.”
She glanced up ruefully. “I could not have done so. I never loaded my pistol.”
His eyebrows rose. “It was unloaded?”