Page 93 of How to Tempt a Duke

A sharp scent hung in the air—thick and unpleasant and redolent of gunfire. He tried to turn his face from the odor, but his scalp screamed in protest. He blinked his eyes open and found Ledsey lying on the ground beside him, holding something wet with blood, his face twisted in agony.

Footsteps and shouts came from nearby, distorted as if Charles were listening underwater. Men appeared around and over him. One in particular pointed next to Charles’s head.

“You’ve got the angels on your side, Your Grace,” the man said. “That bullet was meant for your head.”

Despite the pain of doing so, Charles turned his head and found a scorched hole in the carpet, directly in front of his face.

“Come along, my lord.”

Another voice spoke this time, followed by an anguished scream from Ledsey.

Charles looked up in time to see Hugh being led from the room, with a mangled hand clutched against his chest. Only when he was gone did Charles see Eleanor, lying on the ground.

The whole world faded away, leaving only the horrific sight of his wife in a pool of blood.

A man appeared in front of him, reaching down to help him to his feet. Charles leapt up on his own and ignored the way the world tilted. He had to make his way to Eleanor, to confirm she was not...

He couldn’t even think the word. Not when it made his insides blaze with incomprehensible loss.

Eleanor, his beautiful wife, with all her boldness of character, so passionate and vivid in his life and in his heart. He couldn’t lose her.

He staggered to her and dropped to the floor at her side.

She lay unmoving, her face pale.

“Eleanor?” Her name caught in the tightness of his throat.

She wouldn’t answer him—he knew that in his soul. The massive puddle of blood welling under her told him all he needed to know, all he hated to acknowledge: she had lost far too much blood. Surely one couldn’t lose so much blood and...?

But she couldn’t be...

Surely she wasn’t truly...?

He couldn’t even think properly.

It wasn’t possible. Not when they had just started their lives together. Not when he loved her.

The well of agony burst in his chest and became so damn unbearable his vision blurred.

“Eleanor...” he said again, unable to stop himself.

Only this time when she did not answer he felt a visceral crack as his heart broke.

A man bent over her and attempted to gather her in his arms.

“Stop.” Charles glared at the man. “I will have your skin if you touch her again.”

The man gave an efficient nod. “Forgive me, Your Grace. But I’m an officer, aye? You must understand we need to make her comfortable. The physician was summoned when we were called and he needs to see to her.”

Charles stared at him dumbly. “I...” He cleared the knot from his throat. “I beg your pardon?”

“Your Grace, please.”

“You mean, she’s...?”

The man nodded. “Alive. Please, Your Grace.”

Charles backed away quickly and nodded, nearly choking on his relief. He would do anything in his power to ensure Eleanor lived. Anything.