Chasing the Heiress by Rachael Miles Page A

“Like I’ve been run through with a bayonet or a bullet.”
    â€œThat’s the sum of it.” Seth cut another bite of pie, then gestured with the empty fork. “Except for the raging duke fighting with your nursemaid as you slept.”
    Colin remembered Lucy’s gentle hands cool on his brow. “Where is she?”
    â€œIn her room. Aidan refused to let her near you once he arrived. Only family. Thus me.” He stood and stretched. “I should call him; he’s been beside himself.” Then his expression turned serious. “He is going to hate admitting she was right.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?” Keeping his head still, Colin pushed himself up a bit onto his pillows, then up a bit more, slowly moving himself to a partially seated position.
    â€œIt took three days for Fletcher’s letter to reach us. You know that Fletcher doesn’t like words in the best of times, and when he’s distressed, his notes become cryptic. ‘Brother shot. Come to Grey Goose Inn, Ellesmere Road north of Shrewsbury.’”
    â€œHow long did it take Aidan to determine the shot brother was me?”
    â€œSince I was at the estate and Fletcher only travels with you or me, it was an easy process of elimination. But the ambiguity made Aidan cross. I don’t think he slept in the fourteen hours it took us to reach you. Then when we arrived, you were unconscious, the surgeon had never been called, and the scullery maid was playing physician.” Seth moved to Colin’s side, helping him sit upright.
    â€œShe was in the hospitals at Waterloo. I trusted her skill, and her treatment has been good. I was simply a fool yesterday and ignored her advice.” Colin tried to breathe to the bottom of his lungs, but stopped when the dull pain in his side began to throb.
    â€œWell, whoever is at fault, the best part was watching.” Seth sat in the chair next to the bed and began to pull on his boots, having padded around the room in his stocking feet. “Your nursemaid stood toe to toe with Aidan across your sleeping body and told him she was not going to let the local surgeon bleed you to death.”
    â€œI wish I had seen that.” But somehow he could imagine it: Lucy, his ministering angel turned warrior.
    â€œAs one would expect, Aidan responded with threats suitable to his rank.” Seth finished with one boot and began on the other, lifting one foot to reveal a sock in need of darning. “Magistrates. Murder charges. The usual. Lucky for your scullery maid, Sophie is here.”
    â€œWhy?” Colin tried to raise himself up further, but the muscles in his side refused. Was Lucy really in danger of imprisonment? Or was Seth exaggerating to make a good story?
    â€œIn Italy, Sophie and Tom ran in circles which thought bleeding counterproductive.” Seth turned serious. “But the maid . . . I like her spunk. Are you interested? Or is the field open?”
    Colin growled, surprising even himself. Somehow Lucy had found a way past all his defenses.
    â€œAll right, dear brother. I’ll find other entertainment.” He stood and stomped his boots into place. “Let me get Aidan. He’s been making arrangements.” Seth slipped from the room before Colin could object.
    * * *
    The door flung open only moments later. Clearly Aidan had the suite of rooms across the hall.
    Of the three elder Somerville brothers, Colin had always felt closest to Aidan. Their eldest brother, Aaron, had been an ox of a man, moved by his passions for women, game, and drink, a hard brother from whom the younger boys had hidden when he was in his cups or feeling cruel. None of the brothers had mourned when Aaron died from riding his horse too recklessly after a night of drinking and whoring. The next eldest, Benjamin, had been the diplomat, their advocate, finding ways to protect them from Aaron’s more overt cruelties. Benjamin’s death in the wars was a