When a Rogue Meets His Match - Elizabeth Hoyt Page 0,113
side of the carriage, his eyes fixed.
And then he just stayed there.
Messalina sobbed in a breath.
Gideon turned to her. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, of course…” Her voice faded as she looked at him.
There was a hole in the shoulder of his coat, and something wet gleamed on the black cloth.
She touched it with her fingertips.
Her hand came away stained red with blood.
The carriage door was flung open. Julian of all people stood there, panting. “Are you all right, Messalina? Hawthorne?”
Gideon nodded, completely calm. “Fine. If you’ll just—”
“No,” Messalina said. “He’s been shot.”
Julian looked mildly interested. “Yes?”
Gideon grimaced. “It’s just a—”
“Don’t you dare say it’s just a flesh wound,” Messalina said furiously. She turned to her brother. “Get this carriage back to the house and send for a doctor.”
Jules actually blinked. “Very well.”
He turned to shout at someone outside.
Reggie’s head appeared in the doorway.
“Reg,” Gideon said. “Clear the carriage, please.”
Messalina held back a scream as Gideon’s men removed Mr. Blackwell and his bully boy.
Gideon watched her warily.
Messalina found her handkerchief—a pitifully small scrap of lawn—and pressed it to his shoulder.
He grunted, and her handkerchief turned red.
“If you die, I shall never forgive you,” she said fiercely.
His expression was odd. “I thought you’d never forgive me anyway.”
“Well, I won’t,” she said nonsensically.
“I love you,” he said.
She peered at her pitiful bandage. “I know.”
“I do love you,” he said as if he hadn’t heard her. “I know you won’t believe me, but I do. I do.”
“Hush,” she said. Tears were gathering in her eyes. “I believe you.”
“Messalina.” He gently took her hand and drew it away from his shoulder. “The wound isn’t so very bad. Listen. I love you and if you want to leave me”—his gruff voice broke—“go away to some foreign land, I don’t know if I’ll survive, but I’ll help you go. I want you to be happy.”
“Gideon…” Her eyes were filled with tears.
“But,” he said softly, “if you have any pity at all for me, stay. Please stay with me, Messalina.”
She choked and just refrained from hitting him. “Of course I’m staying, you awful man! I love you. I love you. I love—”
But her words were cut off as he gathered her in his arms and kissed her.
Epilogue
Bet sat in the thyme-covered clearing all the night long, waiting for her fox husband to return. In the morning she was still alone, and she stared into the trees, remembering what he’d told her: never ever to enter the wood.
Bet stood and briskly brushed off her skirts. Then she walked into the wood.
Now the wood was dark and eerie and Bet was afraid. But she remembered the red-haired man and the fox as well, and she bravely ventured on.
By and by she came to a squirrel busily running about gathering walnuts. “Dear me, dear me, how my feet do ache,” muttered the squirrel to herself as she worked. “If only I had a pair of shoes!”
Without a thought Bet took her red shoes off her feet. “Pardon me, Mistress Squirrel, but you may have my shoes if you wish.”
“Oh!” said the squirrel, seizing the red shoes eagerly, “how very kind you are.” She put on the shoes at once, and though her squirrel feet were much smaller than Bet’s own feet, the red shoes fit the squirrel perfectly.
“Thank you!” cried the squirrel. “Is there any favor I might do you in return for such a fine gift?”
“I’m looking for my husband, a fae fox. Have you seen him?”
“Indeed I have,” said the squirrel. “The fox is well known hereabouts—though not always liked, for he has a sly nature. You should ask the bear where your husband has gone. But be careful. Mistress Bear has a temper and quite long claws.” And the squirrel pointed the way.
Bet thanked Mistress Squirrel and continued on her search. But without her shoes her feet soon became sore, and she started limping. She wanted to rest but she remembered her fox husband and continued.
Mistress Bear was sitting discontentedly on a log, and when she saw Bet, she growled, a low, ominous sound. “Why do you disturb me, mortal? This is my natal day and no one has given me a present. Flee from me or I shall rip your limbs from you!”
“I wanted to wish you a happy natal day,” Bet said hurriedly. “And I’ve a present for you—this dress.”
So saying, Bet drew off her blue dress and gave it to the bear.
Mistress Bear put on the dress at once and twirled happily, for of course