Page 72 of The Captain Claims His Temptress

She snorted as she lifted an unconvinced brow. Although skeptical, she seemed quite coherent for someone who had experienced a knock to her head.

Sitting tall, her gaze intense, she asked, “Where was Myrle shot?”

Devil it. He could not lie. “His shoulder.”

Her lips quivered, then tears dripped down her cheeks. “It is my fault. If I had not spat on Pierre… I have no idea what came over me. I behaved in such an unladylike way.”

Damnation, she was sweet. Using his thumb and index finger, Stephen dried her tears. “’Tis not your fault. None of this is your fault. The way Dupont touched you…well, he is lucky to have escaped with his life.” He wanted to put a bullet in the Frenchman’s heart—and he would have if the traitor had not ridden off as the Eatons and Harringtons dealt with their injured.

Five individuals carried Myrle into the room and placed him on the settee across from them.

Diggins plopped onto his knees and took Myrle’s big hand in his. “Ye cannot die, ye big oaf. Ye’s my only mate.”

Myrle groaned; his panted words laced with pain. “Are ye uninjured, Miss Madalene?”

Despite Stephen’s attempts to keep her seated, Madalene stood, then unsteadily swayed to her savior’s side. “I am quite well, Myrle. You saved me.”

“I didn’t mean to knock ye out. Sometimes I forget me own strength.” His gaze traveled to his shoulder where blood soaked through his too-tight livery. He whimpered. “Me mom always said, I was too big for this here world. Said, ‘Ye big lug, bringin’ ye into this world was like birthin’ a bloody whale.’”

Maddie leaned over and kissed him on his misshapen forehead. “I love that you are big and strong. You are my hero.”

“Ah, Miss Madalene,” he said. “This is the greatest moment of me life.”

How could Stephen have doubted her loyalty and kindness less than a week ago? “Madalene, you must rest,” he said, as he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

Myrle’s palm slammed over Diggins’s eyes and Diggins’s over Myrle’s.

“We is giving ye privacy,” Diggins said.

“Indeed, we is, ’cause ye is a fine lady, Miss Madalene,” Myrle said. Thereupon, his head lulled to the side.

When Diggins lifted his hand, Myrle’s eyes were closed. Diggins wailed like a grieving wolf. “Me mate is dead!”

“He is asleep,” Madalene whispered. “See, his chest is still moving.” She pointed to his wound and cringed.

“Aye,” Myrle said, opening one eye. “I’s too hungry to die until I have food in me belly.” He reached for Madalene. “Miss, do ye think I can have some apples and biscuits? And ham. Boy, I’d like me some ham.”

“Get the man some ham,” Stephen declared to his hosts.

Despite the day’s failures, and his uncertain future, sitting in the drawing room with the two women who meant everything to him soothed Stephen’s heavy heart. Unfortunately, before the evening was over, he’d need to corner the Duke of Astleyshire and ask him to ensure that Madalene was safeif—nay—whenhe ended up in prison.

Wrapped in a blanket, Madalene sat in front of the fire, a cup of hot chocolate in her hand. Georgie’s feet were tucked up under her and she patted her dog, Lady, with one hand and held her mug of chocolate in the other.

Millie, his sister’s much-beloved ladies’ maid entered and bobbed a curtsey. “Pardon me.” She hurried to Georgie’s side, and they whispered. The two of them were always up to some shenanigan or another. Lord knows what they might have up their sleeves while everyone else rested after the day’s drama. Millie curtsied again and scurried from the room.

Stephen’s brother-in-law handed him a glass of Port, and then sat across from him.

“I have been thinking,” William said, “I might offer the ruffians a job. That is, once the big one heals. Ironically, I am unsure if we need a staff of guards if we aren’t trying to keep the two of them off the grounds.”

“How diverting it will be to order them around,” Georgie said.

Stephen chuckled. His sister and her peculiar ideas of fun.

“I could stay for a few days and help take care of Myrle.” Madalene frowned. “I do not want to leave until I know he is the picture of health.”

What a disappointing proposition. Why would Madalene not want to leave with him? On second thought, he was a selfish arse. Of course, she wanted to look out for the man who had taken a bullet for her. Not only was she beautiful and sensual, she was sweet. Madalene Spencer was perfection. Moreover, he might be riding to his demise, and he did not want her to observe his humiliation.

“You are welcome to stay as long as you like,” Georgie said. “It gives us a chance to know one another.”