A Scoundrel by Moonlight (Sons of Sin 4)

“Give me time,” the man grunted.

Sedgemoor returned with one maid bearing a bowl of steaming water and a second with a pile of towels. Finally the landlord appeared, carrying a tray with a brandy bottle and some glasses.

“Capital,” Hillbrook said. “We all need a drink. Where’s Richard?”

“Dealing with the magistrate. The fellow’s not happy about a dead body at Maidenhead’s best inn,” Sedgemoor said. “But the famous charm is working its magic. The man’s agreed to wait to hear exactly what happened, especially as Richard’s giving him chapter and verse on Greengrass’s crimes. By the time he’s finished, the town will probably present Leath with a medal for ridding the world of a menace.”

Leath paid little heed to the conversation. What did he care about magistrates when Eleanor’s life hung in the balance? He itched to hold her, whatever logic said about the doctor needing space.

Dr. Manion stood at her side, cleaning her head wound. How in Hades could she live when there was so much blood?

“My lord?” The landlord offered Leath a brimming glass of brandy.

He stared back dully.

“Take it, Leath, you need it,” Hillbrook said.

He grabbed the glass and swallowed the liquor in one hit. “Should she have lost co

nsciousness again?”

The doctor didn’t look up. “Patience, my lord.”

Leath slammed his glass on a table and rushed forward. He needed to touch her, to reassure himself that she breathed. This close, he could see that the water in the dish was ominously red. “Don’t hurt her.”

“I’ll do my best,” the man said flatly.

“If you save her, I’ll give you a thousand pounds.” Leath loomed over the doctor’s shoulder. He would cut off his right arm in return for one word from Eleanor. Hell, he’d cut off his head if it meant that she smiled again.

The doctor’s lips tightened. “I can only do what my skills allow—and what God’s mercy permits, sir. Pray stand further off. You block the light.”

“Ten thousand pounds.”

“You can offer the crown jewels or sixpence, my lord,” the man said shortly. “I said I’d do my best and that’s what I’ll do.”

“Don’t pester Dr. Manion,” Sedgemoor said, and threw Leath into a nearby chair. “Tell us what happened outside.”

“I don’t—” He sucked in a shuddering breath and looked at these two men who against all expectations, he now counted as friends. “You’re trying to distract me.”

“He’s trying to stop you from strangling Dr. Manion,” Hillbrook said with a grim smile. “Your fussing won’t help Miss Trim.”

Leath straightened. “She won’t die,” he said calmly.

Instead of deriding his lunatic statement, Hillbrook responded evenly, “Of course she won’t. But in the meantime, satisfy our curiosity.”

“Yes, old man,” Sedgemoor said, handing him another brandy. “I want to know how all our plotting to leave you alone with your lady love resulted in this disaster. How the deuce did you both end up outside?”

“Eleanor took to her heels when I asked her to marry me.”

He waited for disapproval, but Sedgemoor’s hand settled on his shoulder again. Despite the dread in his heart, he appreciated the support. “If you asked me to marry you, I’d run off too.”

He didn’t smile. “Greengrass must have been lurking in the garden. By the time I found her, he’d decided to hold her to ransom at gunpoint.”

“Did he, by God?” Hillbrook said.

“Eleanor fought back and he shot her.”

“At least you killed the bugger,” Sedgemoor said.