neck and tied it around Percy’s thigh, hoping it would at least slow the bleeding. He tied the knot, counted to ten. And when he touched the spot over the wound, his fingers came away dry.
“Percy, please, I’m begging you to wake up.” He took the flask from Percy’s pocket and splashed some gin onto the man’s face. “Come on now.” Percy’s eyelids began to flutter, and Kit let out a shaky breath.
“My father,” Percy said.
“Later. Now, see if you can get to your feet.” Kit stood and held out a hand, bracing his own weight on his walking stick.
When Percy reached out, his hand was cold, but he stood with little effort. “As I said, I don’t think I’m injured.”
“The blood that’s all over you argues otherwise.”
“I don’t believe that’s my blood,” Percy said. “And the less we talk about blood right now, the better.”
Kit realized for the first time that Percy didn’t have the pistol in his hand. “Where is the weapon?”
“I believe it’s in the carriage.”
“If you can mount your horse, you need to do it.”
It took Percy a few false tries, and in the end Kit had to all but shove him into the saddle. Kit still couldn’t tell whether it was blood loss or shock that was affecting Percy. All he knew was that they needed to get far away from this place, and they needed to do it now, but between them they only had one horse and two working legs.
And this was why Kit should have hired someone else for this job. Kit should have stayed in London, because in his condition he was worse than useless to Percy. Well, he could take himself to task later; now he needed to get Percy to safety. If he remembered this part of Oxfordshire at all correctly, a short walk through the woods would bring him to Jenny’s gran. Kit’s leg was in a sorry state, and he’d pay for this tomorrow, but he still had some strength left.
“Get on behind me,” Percy said.
“Your horse can’t hold us both,” Kit said. Christ, the horse looked like he needed food and water, too. “Come on.”
Percy didn’t even ask where they were going, which could not be a good sign. He let Kit guide him through the woods, quiet and almost docile. Every few minutes—every few seconds, if he were honest with himself, Kit brushed his hands over Percy’s wounded leg and checked his fingers for blood. It didn’t take long for them to come away bright red.
The moon was high in the sky when they came to the part of the woods he knew. Past an old well, across a shallow stream, and there was the cottage, firelight flickering in the windows and smoke coming from the chimney.
Jenny’s grandmother might not even live there anymore. It wasn’t as if Kit had kept in touch. Well, even if strangers answered the door, it was better than sleeping rough or raising suspicions at an inn where news of the robbery may have already spread. This was their best bet.
When he raised his arms to help Percy down from the saddle, Percy scoffed and tried to dismount on his own, and would have fallen if not for Kit’s arm around his middle.
“We’re stopping at this cottage,” Kit said into Percy’s ear. “You’re Edward Percy. You’re no relation of the duke. You’re a friend of mine from London.”
When Kit knocked, the door was answered by a woman with a long white plait. It took Kit too long to realize it was Jenny’s grandmother.
“Granny Dot,” Kit began, then corrected himself. “Mistress—”
“Christopher. I should have known that if I ever were to lay eyes on you again, it would be on a moonlit night in the company of a blood-soaked stranger. Dennis!” A lad of about seven or eight appeared behind the old woman’s skirts, his mouth open in a yawn. “Set up a pallet bed in the barn and light the brazier.” Then, to Kit, “That’s John’s youngest.”
“And how is John?” John had been Jenny’s oldest brother.
“Dead,” Dorothy said curtly. “They’re all dead, except you, me, and Dennis.”
Kit realized Percy was looking between him and Dorothy. “This is Mr. Percy. He fell off his horse and injured himself. We need a place to sleep for a night or two, some supper, and some hay for the horse, if you can spare it.”
“You’d be welcome to stay longer than that, but I imagine you have your own reasons for not lingering. I