Page 103 of The Rogue’s Embrace

Cece's heart beat like a fury against her ribs as she jogged off of the cricket pitch, following the doctor and the men who carried Lord O'Shea on the stretcher. Henrietta hurried along at her side, pale and weeping openly, but silent. As much as Cece hated the drivel about women being too constitutionally weak to bear the sight of violence, she had to admit that she'd never seen anything as brutal as the eight men with clubs beating Lord O'Shea, and she never wanted to see anything like it again.

"He'll be all right,"

Rupert attempted to reassure her as they crossed through the barrier from Lord's to the street. He reached for her hand, squeezing it as they hurried along. "Fergus is strong. He's survived worse."

There was little confidence in his voice.

People on the street, from low to high, leapt out of the way of their macabre procession. A few shouted that they'd seen which way the attackers went, but Cece barely heard them. Her thoughts were only for Lord O'Shea, who had stopped writhing on the stretcher and now jostled with every move the bearers made, pale as death.

Blessedly, the infirmary was even closer than the doctor had made it out to be. A man held the door open so that the doctor and stretcher-bearers could race through and into the dim, heavy atmosphere of the building. Cece and Rupert squeezed in behind them, Henrietta bringing up the rear. Lord O'Shea was carried straight through to what must have been an examination room. Rupert tried to follow, but the doctor stopped him.

"He's in critical condition and I cannot have distractions as I work to save his life,"

the doctor said.

"Understood."

Rupert took a grudging step back, deep worry etched in the lines of his face.

The doctor disappeared into the examination room, shutting the door behind him. The thump of the door closing had a morbid finality about it. Rupert stood where he was, staring at the door, his face a mask of fear and uncertainty. Cece had never seen him so distressed in her life.

"If you please,"

a young woman who looked as though she could be the doctor's daughter said, stepping forward. "You can wait in this room, if you'd like."

Cece blinked and glanced around at their surroundings. The large waiting room where they stood was filled with humble-looking men and women in various states of illness or distress. They watched her, Rupert, and Henrietta with wide, wondering eyes. Several were coughing, and a young child began to cry in the wake of the sudden burst of trauma. The room that the doctor's daughter gestured to appeared to be a second examination room. It had the advantage of being empty and private.

"Thank you,"

Cece said, sending the young woman the kindest smile she could manage under the circumstances. "We are grateful."

She took Rupert's hand, steering him away from the closed door and into the private room. Henrietta came silently with them, her gaze unfocused as though she were lost in her thoughts.

"Could I bring you some tea?"

the doctor's daughter asked in a hushed voice as she saw them into the room.

"No, but thank you for the offer,"

Cece said.

The woman nodded, then backed out of the room, shutting the door behind her and closing them all in with their thoughts.

A long, anxious silence followed. Rupert paced the room, walking in circles around the long examination table in the middle. Henrietta sank into a chair beside a curtained window, clenching her fists in the fabric of her skirts. It was then that Cece noticed dark flecks of blood standing out against the white of Henrietta's dress and gloves. She had blood and grass stains on her own skirts, but she didn't care.

"He's in the best possible hands,"

she said, glancing from Rupert to Henrietta and back again. "We did everything we could."

Henrietta nodded and retreated back into her thoughts, wiping away stray tears with the back of her hand.

Rupert continued pacing, though he, too, nodded in acknowledgement and agreement.

Cece followed him around to the far side of the room from where Henrietta sat, standing in front of him to block his way. "You did everything you could,"

she repeated.

Rupert stopped and let out a long breath, pushing a hand through his hair. His knuckles were rough with scrapes and bruises from the fighting he'd done. "I just pray it's enough," he said.

Cece leaned toward him, relieved that he accepted her advance and closed his arms around her in a hug. She needed it, and she was certain he needed it as well. They stood in each other's arms for a moment, listening to the dull drone of activity and low voices in the room beside them. They couldn't hear much, but it was enough to know the doctor was doing everything he could to save Lord O'Shea's life.

"I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to him,"

Rupert said at last in a hollow voice. Cece rocked back, stepping out of his arms to better listen to him. "Fergus saved my life and the lives of so many other men in the war. He thought nothing of himself, only of helping others. He is everything good and noble about this nation, and it enrages me that men like Denbigh denigrate him for his heritage when not one of them has lifted a finger to protect the interests of queen and country."

Cece could only nod, reaching for his hand and holding it as the emotions bubbling inside of him rose into words.

Rupert gazed intently at her. "That is why I joined the military,"

he said, taking her other hand so that he held both of them. "I know my decision hurt you, and for that I am eternally sorry."

Old pain and wasted anger squeezed Cece's throat closed. Her heartache and resentment felt so far away in that moment that it was almost trivial.

"I didn't know how to explain it to you then,"

Rupert went on, "and I still don't know how to explain it now. I didn't leave because you weren't important or because I didn't love you. I had to go and serve my country because you are important and because I love you with all my heart. I believe in this nation and this life we are so lucky to live, and I would do anything and everything within my power to protect and preserve it for you."

"I know,"

Cece said, the comfort of realization filling her like a strong, fresh breeze blowing away the fog of confusion. "And I love you for it, more than you can know."

His mouth twitched slightly and a wry grin brought a hint of teasing to his eyes. "But?" he asked.

The simple question made Cece's heart flutter. "But fighting to protect me and to make a better world for me is not the same thing as valuing and cherishing me as a woman with opinions and emotions in my own right."

Before he could reply, she rushed on to say, "Both are necessary."

Instead of speaking, Rupert closed his mouth and studied her. He raised a hand to brush her cheek, rubbing one spot particularly. She realized that she must have had flecks of blood on her face as well as her dress, like any other soldier in the field of battle.

"I love how brave you are,"

he said at last, his voice rich with emotion. "I love the way you've stood up for yourself these past few weeks, even when you were standing up against me."

"You do?"

She blinked.

"Yes, of course I do,"

he said, a smile spreading across his face and into his eyes. He rested his hands on the sides of her face, studying her with deep affection. "I've been laboring under the mistaken impression that only men are soldiers, fighting for the empire and for what's right. It never dawned on me that there was a war at home that was being fought with equal vigor, and that was experiencing equal casualties."

His smile dropped. "It sickens me to watch the way you have been treated, simply for speaking your mind."

"I'm used to it,"

she told him. "For better or for worse. But that is precisely why it hurt so much for you to rush off to South Africa without consulting me, and for you to send back nothing but platitudes in your letters to me. I could have handled the full truth of your service."

He paused, as if instinct were pushing him to say that no, she couldn't.

"All I want, all any woman wants, is to be respected, especially by those who are dearest to us,"

she went on, closing her hands over his and bringing them away from her face so that she could hold them. "It has felt so glorious to embrace confidence these last few weeks. I thought the scandal after that first ball would do me in, but I think it has been the making of me. I've never felt so happy or so alive. Freedom from the strictures of society is a glorious thing, but I have only been able to enjoy it because of you."

She twined her fingers through his. "Without you, fairly or unfairly, I would have been cast aside after a scandal like that. But because you stood by me—and I never believed for a moment that you were interested in Lady Claudia Denbigh, or any other lady, for that matter—because you remained faithful to me, I was able to rise. That is all I've wanted from the beginning."

"We are better when we're together than when we're apart,"

Rupert agreed, smiling once more.

"In so many ways,"

Cece agreed, one eyebrow flickering mischievously.

Rupert began to laugh, but the sound caught in his throat as a groan from the other room broke the sweetness of the moment. They both turned to stare at the solid wall, as though they could see through it to where Lord O'Shea was fighting for his life.

"That's a good sound,"

Cece said, her voice shaking. "It means he's still alive."

"He'll fight,"

Rupert agreed with a nod. "Fergus will fight with everything he has to stay alive. He'll want to bring the men who did this to justice."

"I want to bring them to justice too,"

Cece said, a bitter note in her voice.

Rupert shifted to study her. "It won't be an easy fight,"

he said. "Denbigh is undoubtedly the one behind this."

"Undoubtedly,"

Cece echoed. "But prejudice and cruelty like that cannot go unanswered. That is the fight that truly matters, not petty disagreements and grudges."

"I'll do what I can with whatever influence my position in the House of Lords affords me,"

Rupert went on. "But it may very well be that you can accomplish more with your May Flowers to change the hearts and minds of the most important people in the land."

"I'm not sure the high and mighty will every fully listen to us,"

she said with a sigh.

"They will have to."

Rupert smiled. "I'll make sure of it."

His words and the strength behind them filled Cece with confidence. So much so that she was ready to take on the world when the door to their examination room burst open and Jack Craig stepped in, Freddy and Reese right behind him. Lord Herrington rushed to Henrietta, taking his sister in his arms to comfort her.

Mr. Craig's expression was less reassuring. "We caught the bastards,"

he said, a rough edge of cockney slipping into his otherwise refined accent. "They're being taken to Pentonville for questioning."

"Pentonville?"

Cece gaped at him. "Isn't that a bit extreme for questioning about an assault?"

"It's not extreme enough for attempted murder, if you ask me,"

Rupert growled.

Mr. Craig stepped closer to Cece, removing his hat. "Pentonville is relatively close by, and it'll strike the fear of God into them,"

he said. "I recognized one or two of the men as soon as they were apprehended. They're known muscle for hire. There's not anyone they wouldn't attack for a few quid, high or low, saint or sinner."

"So Denbigh hired them,"

Rupert said, rage infusing his words.

Mr. Craig winced. "I would bet my life on it, but not one of them is confessing so far. Which tells me Denbigh paid them well. My men will do their best to extract a confession from them. In the meantime, I'll head back to Scotland Yard and put my network to work ferreting out whatever information I can about any possible connections Denbigh has to those rats or any others."

He nodded to Cece and to Henrietta, who had risen from her chair and come to hear what Mr. Craig had to say. "Rest assured, this crime will not go unpunished."

"Thank you, Mr. Craig,"

Henrietta said in a weary voice. Lord Herrington stood close by her side, one arm around her waist to support her.

Of all things, the dire moment gave Cece hope. There were men in the world who stood ready to help those who could not help themselves, lovers and brothers, and even men like Reese, who had no immediate connection to either her or Henrietta, but who looked ready to fight until his last breath to advance their cause. With men like those, there was hope for the world.

Mr. Craig turned to go, but he had barely stepped into the large waiting room and no one had time to shut the door to their examination room before the doctor stepped out from the other room. Rupert rushed into the waiting room to hear what he had to say, and Cece and Henrietta followed, Reese and Lord Herrington behind them.

"Well?"

Rupert asked, the picture of concern again. "How is he? Will he make it?"

"Lord O'Shea has been grievously injured,"

the doctor said in a grave voice. "I haven't seen an attack this brutal in ages, perhaps in my entire career."

"But will he live?"

Henrietta asked.

The doctor took a deep breath and went on with a frown. "He has suffered several compound fractures of the arms and legs, several broken ribs, and a broken nose. In addition to that, a blow to the side of his head ruptured his eardrum and his left eye has been gouged in such a way that even if it can be saved, he has probably lost sight in it. That is without beginning to take into consideration internal injuries, of which I am certain there are many."

Cece gasped and held a hand to her mouth, her heart racing and her eyes stinging in horror. But there was more.

The doctor went on. "I regret to say it, especially in front of the ladies, but I fear he may never be able to walk normally again, if at all, depending on the extent of the damage to his spine."

He turned to Rupert. "Does your friend have someone who could take care of him if he manages to pull through the next few hours? He could have a long convalescence."

"He does,"

Rupert insisted. "He has friends. We will care for him if necessary."

He glanced to Cece, who nodded vigorously. She would have done anything for Lord O'Shea, knowing how much he'd done for Rupert.

"Fergus can recuperate at Albany Court if he'd like to,"

Reese said, proving that Rupert wasn't the only one who would step in to help.

"I would offer a home for him as well, if I had one,"

Lord Herrington added.

"He can stay at Tavistock House or at Tamar Abbey,"

Henrietta offered, glancing to her brother with a rare show of vulnerability.

"He has friends,"

Rupert repeated for the doctor.

"Good."

The doctor nodded. "Then right now, I suggest you show your friendship by praying for his recovery. I'll do what I can for him, but once he's out of the woods, he should be moved to a proper hospital."

"We'll make preparations,"

Reese said.

The doctor nodded and returned to the examination room to continue his attempts to save Lord O'Shea. There was nothing more for the rest of them to do but to head out of the infirmary and into the street.

"I'll let you know what else I'm able to discover,"

Mr. Craig said before nodding to the ladies and hurrying off.

"Denbigh is behind this,"

Reese said with an ice-cold certainty that hinted to Cece what a powerful man he was behind his calm demeanor.

"He will pay,"

Freddy agreed, far more agitated.

"If I see the man, I'll give him as good as his goons gave Fergus,"

Rupert growled.

"Lord Denbigh isn't the only one who should be held accountable for this,"

Henrietta said with poorly disguised fury. "Others are to blame. Others who knew an attack was imminent and who did nothing to stop it."

She met Cece's eyes.

Lady Claudia. There was no doubt in Cece's mind that Henrietta was talking about Lady Claudia and that she was right. Lady Claudia and her closest friends had been suspiciously absent from the cricket match after enough of a fuss had been made of the whole thing that no one wanted to miss it. She must have known, and saying nothing was as much of a betrayal as participating in the attack.

"What can be done?"

Cece asked, her own fury growing.

Henrietta stepped away from her brother, standing tall and tilting her chin up. "It's time the May Flowers decided once and for all what they stand for and what they will fight for going forward. And those who are not willing to stand by us will no longer be welcome in our ranks."

Cece swallowed, feeling as though they were standing on the edge of a precipice. "We must call a meeting immediately."

Henrietta nodded. "I'll put the wheels in motion right away. We will all choose which side we stand on by the end of this day, and once the battle lines are drawn, we will advance."