A Portrait of Love (The Academy of Love #3) - Minerva Spencer Page 0,129

was pulled straight from the well.

When Simon opened the door to the room he was sharing with Honey, she looked up from a book she’d found in the pillaged library.

“How is he?”

“He’s still sleeping. Doctor Powell says the wound looks good and the bullet did not hit any organs. He’s got a fever, but Powell says it isn’t becoming worse.” Simon sank into the nearest chair, closed his eyes, and rubbed his temples with brutal fingers.

Hands landed on his shoulders, massaging hard on his right side, but caressing more gently on the damaged skin on his left.

Simon remembered that his brother wasn’t the only one who’d been shot.

“What a horrid husband I am,” he said, twisting around to smile up at her. “How is your arm?’

“It hurts, but—to be honest—the time I slammed my little finger in the front door of our London house was far worse.”

Simon knew from personal experience that even a mild gunshot wound hurt a great deal. His wife was made of stern stuff.

“You had Powell look at it?” he asked, ashamed that he’d been so consumed with Wyndham that he’d not paid attention to Honey over the last eight hours.

“The doctor said the wound was shallow and clean. He gave me some laudanum, but it always makes me ill. What about you, Simon? You’re rubbing your head. Are you getting a migraine?”

“No, just feeling like an arse.”

Her hands froze and she came out from behind him. She sat on the arm of his chair and draped an arm around him. “Why?”

Simon sighed, looking up at her. “I can’t believe I thought Wyndham was capable of fathering a child on Bella—or on any woman other than his wife. He’s the most honorable man I know.” He exhaled shakily. “I’m a hot-headed fool. He almost died today—and he’s still not out of the woods. If he had died, the last memories I’d have of him were of back-biting and fighting.”

Her arm tightened around him. “Don’t punish yourself over this, Simon. It doesn’t do anyone any good.” She hesitated, and then said, “The duke is one of the most formidable men I’ve ever met. It will take more than a single bullet to stop him.”

Simon gave her a weary smile. “You’re right, love. He’s tough. I just wish I’d said I was sorry for misjudging him when I had the chance this morning.”

“You had a few other things to worry about,” she said drily. “Like saving both your lives.”

“No,” he said firmly, “it wasn’t me who saved us, it was you. Raymond would have shot me if not for you.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her palm. “You didn’t just save me and Wyndham—you saved yourself and our unborn child. If Raymond had gotten away with this—” he shivered, sickened at the thought of what might have happened.

She stroked his cheek. “He didn’t get away with it, and Wyndham will pull through.”

“Once again thanks to my clever wife, who thought ahead enough to send for a doctor as well as a sheriff.”

“I’ll only take part of the thanks; the majority of it goes to Bella.”

“She must have ridden like the wind to get them here so quickly. Loki earned a double serving of oats for the rest of his life.”

And the doctor had arrived not a moment too soon, either.

Simon had been at wit’s end when the three had thundered up.

Wyndham had lost consciousness and his heartbeat was so faint that Simon could barely feel his pulse.

The doctor hadn’t bothered to move the duke to a bed before he began working on him.

While Simon had been with Wyndham, Honey had stayed with Raymond, who’d died in the arms of the woman he very likely would have killed.

Simon knew he should feel something at the other man’s passing, but all he could muster was relief. At least Raymond had done one good thing before dying; he’d confessed to putting the poison in the duke’s liquor decanters—within the sheriff’s hearing.

Raymond’s confession had gone a long way to helping Simon explain the two dead bodies and various gunshot wounds to the sheriff.

The man had agreed to wait until the duke could give testimony to announce an official cause of death for either Raymond or his groom.

Simon had also told the sheriff about Raymond’s valet, but he suspected they would never catch the man.

It had slipped Honey’s mind to tell anyone about Heyworth, and so the steward had surprised everyone when he’d come limping out of the woods