“Yes. When I decided to charge over here, I feared I might do you real harm. You are quite skilled at inciting me to mayhem.”
He gave a bark of laughter and then winced at the jarring movement to his side.
“Actually,” Venetia confessed, “I feel partly to blame.” She was frankly appalled at the role she had played, and she felt guilty, even if she hadn’t shot Traherne herself.
“Why would you be to blame?”
“You would not have been outside if not for me.”
Traherne shrugged. “He would have likely found another vantage point for the shot.”
“But perhaps you could have eluded the bullet if you hadn’t moved to shield me.” He had acted without thought for his own safety in order to protect her. “You might have saved my life by pushing me to the ground.”
“Or I might have endangered you more.” He looked grim. “It’s possible I am being targeted by an assassin. If so, I have put you at risk.”
“Who would want to kill you?”
“I have no bloody idea…unless it’s Lisle.”
“Does he despise you enough to murder you?”
“I would not have thought so before this. I am not well acquainted with him.”
“It is fortunate you saw the threat in time to react. How did you know the shooter was carrying a rifle?”
“I saw the silhouette of a weapon—and after the two earlier incidents, I was watching for danger. A musket would not have that accuracy or range, no matter how skilled the marksman.”
“I thought he was one of the gardeners carrying a shovel. He was dressed in your livery colors.”
“They were the same colors but not my livery. I don’t believe he was one of my staff, but he obviously went to some trouble to disguise himself in my colors, the better to blend in, I presume.”
“Whoever he is, he should not be allowed to get away with attempted murder. He could have killed you!” Her angry tone held a note of fear.
“I’m uncertain if he wanted to kill me or scare me away—for what reason I can only guess. What galls most is that he had the temerity to invade my property. He was either superbly confident in his skills or desperate to complete his task.”
“Well, whatever his motives, it was a heroic gesture on your part to save me from being wounded or worse.”
Traherne’s smile was entirely charming. “I’m not certain I can take credit for heroism. More likely it was sheer instinct. But I am happy to have something positive in my column to offset your many grievances against me.”
“I haven’t that many grievances against you. Only where it affects my sister’s happiness.”
He might have replied had his butler not made an appearance. “What is it, Wilkins?”
“We conducted a search as you ordered, my lord, but there was no sign of the intruder.”
Traherne’s grimness returned. “I expected as much.”
“It is most likely he entered and fled through the east garden gate.”
“From this point forward, I want all entrances locked or guarded. And instruct the staff to be on the alert for strangers or suspicious behavior.”
“As you wish. May I be of further service?”
“You may bring me the letter lying on my study desk, along with writing implements. I will finish it while awaiting Biddowes so you may courier it to Lord Hawkhurst in Kent. And have someone bring me a fresh shirt for when I am washed and bandaged.”
Wilkins bowed and retreated, then returned a moment later. Since Traherne’s hands were still bloodied, Venetia spent the next several minutes taking his dictation at the servants’ dining table, explaining about the shooting and requesting Hawkhurst’s immediate presence. When she was done, Wilkins carried the missive away to be dispatched.
“Lord Hawkhurst is your sister’s husband, but why would you seek his advice?” she asked curiously. “Why not turn to Bow Street or some other authority familiar with murderers and cutthroats?”