“They will surely put you in Bedlam asylum after this,” muttered Gus.
Stephen couldn’t argue with his friend’s opinion. Only a madman would bring a badly wounded smuggler to the house where his new bride lived. A house where he himself wasn’t exactly welcome.
It was late at night by the time they finally made it back to town the day after they reached Portsmouth. While Gus snatched whatever sleep he could, Stephen had stayed awake, wracking his brains as to other places they could go.
The searching of his mind whilst sitting in coaches and carriages was becoming somewhat of an unwelcome habit.
After arriving via the rear mews of the house at 12 Berkeley Square, he and the driver managed to get Gus out of the coach. It took several minutes for the injured rogue to be able to stand upright. Stephen told the driver to wait.
“I will be out as soon as I can. I have a pregnant wife to deal with before then.”
“Bridget is a practical woman—she will understand,” said Gus.
I hope so, otherwise this is going to be ugly.
The first piece of good fortune he had encountered in some time came in the form of the Dyson household head butler and a footman. They both happened to be outside having a smoke when Stephen and Gus started for the door. They threw their cheroots to the ground and hurried over.
When the butler didn’t bat an eyelid at the sight of Gus, Stephen recalled Bridget’s remark about her former husband having hunting accidents regularly covered up.
The butler nodded to the footman. “Go and inform Lady Dyson, I mean Lady Moore, that her husband has returned home and has a friend seeking peace and quiet.”
Stephen gave a nod. “Thank you.”
Clearly peace and quiet was Dyson household code for ‘find the mistress and tell her someone has been shot.’
As the footman headed inside, the butler addressed Gus. “Are you in need of a physician?”
Gus sighed. “No, I was attended to on the boat. I just need a bath and then a bed. Sleep would be wonderful”
“Very good, sir.”
As they stepped toward the door, Stephen glanced back over his shoulder and caught the man’s eye. He whispered, “Bandages and laudanum.”
They were met by Bridget in the hallway. She was clad in a dressing gown, with slippers on her feet, her rumpled hair evidence of her having already been in bed.
His wife gave Stephen the merest of chin tips in greeting, focusing her interest on Gus instead. He couldn’t blame her. Few people would take kindly to having a wounded smuggler arrive on their doorstep in the middle of the night.
She took one look at Gus and frowned. “Let’s get you upstairs. We don’t want the rest of the servants seeing you in this state.”
It took the combined efforts of Stephen and the footman to help Gus climb the stairs to his room. Gus winced, complained, and groaned the whole way. Once inside the first of the spare bedrooms, he rallied. “Just put me in the chair by the fire.”
Stephen shook his head. His friend needed rest and pressure to be taken off his wound. “The bed is the best place for you. We can’t have you bleeding again. You have already lost enough blood.”
The butler appeared bearing a tray with several large rolled up bandages and a bottle of laudanum large enough to put an elephant out of its misery. Bridget quickly dismissed the two servants. “Thank you. Now both of you head downstairs. And not a word.”
As soon as they were gone, she closed and locked the bedroom door. When she reached the bedside, Stephen caught his first real look at her. She looked tired and pale. He had a horrible suspicion that being pregnant wasn’t the only cause for her less than sparkling countenance.
“What happened?” she asked.
“Nothing. I slipped on the weather deck of the yacht,” said Gus.
Stephen sighed. There was no point in lying to his wife. The moment she saw the wound she would know it had been caused by a bullet. “He was ambushed on the road leading up to the château where we get our illicit brandy supplies. There is a new rival group operating out of a nearby town. Our friend, Armand, warned us about them, but I think even he underestimated their veracity. It took quite an effort to get the Night Wind safely out to sea.”
“I wondered why you were back so soon. You weren’t meant to return until late the day after tomorrow,” she said. “Not that I am complaining in seeing you again.”
He took her words to heart. Bridget had not only made special note of when he was due home, but she appeared at least a little happy to see him.
“Clearly this new gang is dangerous. Something which you are all going to have to take into account in future,” she said.
“Yes. We will have to address the question of future trips to France among the rest of the RR Coaching Company directors. As for myself, that was my last voyage. I have a wife and family to consider,” he replied.
“Do you?” Her voice broke on the words.
“Yes. Have no doubt as to where my priorities now lay. They are with you, Toby, and our baby.”
Gus let out a pained gasp. From the extent of his injuries, it was clear it was going to take quite some time for him to recover. Time in which he hopefully would be convinced that his days of running contraband were well and truly over.
With Gus stretched out on the bed, Stephen motioned for Bridget to walk farther away. Once they were closer to the door, he bent and whispered, “We had the bullet removed and Gus stitched up onboard the boat, but he refuses to see a doctor. I know you mentioned having experience with the hunting wounds of Rupert and his friends, so I was hoping . . .”
“Of course, that’s why we have such a large bottle of laudanum and an extensive selection of bandages. Let me have a look at him and see what I can do. If the wound has been kept clean and stitched properly, he will basically just need lots of bed rest. But if it is not in a good condition, we may need a physician.”
“No doctors,” cried Gus.
Stephen rolled his eyes. “Let Bridget have a look at you, then we can decide. I’m not having you die under my wife’s roof just because you are a stubborn ass.”
“Our roof,” she corrected him.
He caught a hold of her wrist. “I am serious about my priorities, of what is now the most important thing in my life. Please, Bridget, can we talk? I mean, have an honest conversation about us; one which results in there being an agreement about our future.”
Bridget nodded. “After I have changed Gus’s bandages and doped him up with opiates.”
A relieved Stephen released his hand. His wife appeared far too comfortable with the notion of having a badly injured man under her care.
Yes, well you haven’t bothered to find out much about her. Or what life was like with that heartless first husband of hers.
Not that he had started off her second marriage any better.
The way he had treated Bridget was the same as he had done with all the other women in his past—bed and forget them. Or in her case, he had tried to get her out of his mind.
But he was determined that things with her would be different, starting the minute he got back from Monsale House. He had to inform the group’s leader of the events of the past few days. “How angry with me will you be if I leave Gus in your care for a short time and go to see Monsale?”
Bridget headed toward the bed where, after unbuttoning Gus’s greatcoat, she peeled open his torn shirt exposing the bandages. To Stephen’s relief, no blood had seeped through them.
“Just go and then hurry back. He is not the first semi-naked man I have seen in my life,” she replied.
Stephen halted in his progress to the door.
“I swear on the cross of Saint Nicholas that I am incapable of any form of lechery in my current state,” said Gus.
Stephen pointed a finger at his wife. “Just don’t let him try and sweet-talk you. That man has been known to convince women to make terrible errors of judgement.”
He opened the door and was halfway through it when he caught Bridget’s reply.
“When it comes making foolish mistakes, I think it might be a little too late for that, Stephen.”
He kept going. The sooner he spoke to Monsale, the quicker he could be back. And when he returned, Stephen was going to set his wife straight. The fool in their relationship had always been him.
But no more. He was going to become the husband she needed him to be and the man who deserved her love.