Chapter Eighteen

Before I could even be sure of what I was seeing, Major Ramsey was moving. He pushed me behind him as the man rushed us. The pavement was icy, and the sudden movement made me slip. I struggled to keep my footing even as I caught the flash of the blade again. It was a big knife by the looks of it, and my heart leapt to my throat.

It turned out to be beneficial that Ramsey had not put on his greatcoat, for it gave him easy maneuverability when he dropped it. He went on the offensive, stepping into the man's path with that agile grace that was always surprising in a man his size. He moved so quickly I couldn't have recounted later exactly how he did it, but he grasped the man's arm and a moment later I heard the clatter of the knife against the pavement. The assailant threw a punch, which Ramsey dodged, before turning to look for his discarded knife.

It had fallen near my foot, and I reached down to grab it. He certainly wasn't going to get his hands on it if I could help it. His eyes trained on me, and I gripped the knife's handle, determined to protect myself if need be.

But before he could start toward me, Ramsey had grabbed him. There was a brief scuffle, and then the major had the upper hand. He held the assailant with his arm around his neck, locked against him. I felt a moment of relief. I would call a policeman and this whole thing would be over without much harm done.

And then the man brought back his elbow in a series of vicious blows to the major's ribs. I flinched at the sickening thuds and heard Ramsey grunt. He must have loosened his grip then because the man slipped free of his grasp.

"Mind your own business," the assailant hissed. "Keep asking questions, and you'll be sorry."

And then he was gone, the sound of his footsteps fading in the darkness.

I was afraid Ramsey would go after him, but he was bent over slightly, holding his side. He had already been in pain; those blows to the site of one of his bullet injuries were the last thing he needed.

I hurried to him, the knife still in my hand.

"Are you all right?" he asked me, through gritted teeth.

"Yes, don't worry about me. Did he hurt you badly?"

"I'll be fine in a minute." His voice was so tight and breathless that I felt a stab of alarm.

The car pulled up beside the curb, and Jakub quickly got out. "I saw something happening and a man running," he said. "Is everything all right?"

"We need to get the major to the hospital," I said.

"No. No need for that," he said, straightening. "Take me home."

I hesitated. I couldn't force him to go to the hospital, but I was worried the blows to his side might have reinjured him internally.

"We'll drop you home first," Ramsey said, though his face was colorless with pain.

"You absolutely will not," I said, taking his arm. "Jakub, will you help me get him to the car?"

"I'm fine," Ramsey said, in what had become a habitual lie.

He didn't shake off my hand on his arm as I escorted him to the car and into the backseat. I went back to collect his coat. I reached into the pocket and, just as I knew I would, discovered a handkerchief. I wrapped the knife in it so anyone handling it wouldn't leave fingerprints. Then I went to the car and got in, and Jakub hurried to get us back on the road.

I looked over at Ramsey, who, if not exactly slumped against the seat, was sitting in a much less formal posture than I was used to. "I still think you should go to the hospital."

He shook his head. "He caught me in the place where a bullet broke some ribs. It's sore, but no real harm done."

I wasn't convinced. "He might have broken them again. Will you at least see a doctor?"

"If the need arises."

I let out a frustrated breath. "Whoever is trying to kill you needn't bother because you're doing a jolly good job of it yourself."

He didn't answer.

I looked over at him. "By the by, who is trying to kill you?"

"You think he was after us specifically?" Something in his tone led me to believe this was his assumption, too, but he wanted my opinion without influencing me.

"That wasn't a street known for muggings. Someone was trying to get to you. He said, ‘Mind your own business,' as he ran away. It was clearly a warning."

"I wish I'd been able to go after him."

I held up the handkerchief-wrapped object in my hand. "He left the knife. Perhaps you can get fingerprints from it."

He nodded. "Good work."

When we arrived back at his house, he got out of the car before I could come around to help him and started up the front steps. "Jakub, take Miss McDonnell home, please," he called without looking back.

"Just a minute, Jakub," I said. "I want to see the major inside."

He nodded, the concern in his expression telling me I was not the only one who was worried about the major's condition.

I followed Ramsey up the steps to the door. "Is your sister here?"

"Yes, but I'd rather not alarm her."

"Then let me help you get settled in your office, at least."

He didn't argue with me. I took it as a bad sign.

We went inside, and he led the way to his office, switching on the lights and moving to a little wooden cabinet along the wall. He took a bottle and glass from inside and poured himself a drink. He downed it in one swallow before turning back to me.

His jaw was still clenched, and his color was off. His skin had taken on a whitish-gray hue that reminded me forcibly of when he had been lying shot only a few months ago. I felt a wave of alarm.

"You look terrible," I said. "You'd better sit down."

"I'm fine."

"Major…"

His jaw clenched again.

"Major, sit down." I said this in my most Nacy-like tone, and I was gratified that it worked. He moved and sat carefully on the edge of his desk, too polite to fully seat himself while I stood.

"There's nothing to be alarmed about," he told me. "I still have some occasional pain, and the elbow to the ribs happened to exacerbate it."

"Of course, it did," I said. "You had four bullets in you not three months ago. Your insides are probably still healing."

"Don't fuss, Electra," he said.

There it was again, that feeling of intimacy, as though we were two people who truly knew each other. In moments like these, I felt a little tug of affection for him, something deeper than the spark of attraction. It was disconcerting in a way I couldn't quite name.

"It's nothing a little rest won't cure," he said.

"Noelle says you're not getting enough rest."

He swore. "I don't need the two of you discussing me."

"What can I get you?" I asked. "Are there some tablets you can take?"

"There are, but I'm not going to take them. I have work to do, and I need to concentrate."

"You can't concentrate when you're in pain."

His eyes met mine. "I certainly can. I do it every day."

I sighed. "It's taking its toll. Your health is of vital importance, you know. Not just for you. You're not going to be able to keep working at this pace. It won't do anyone any good if you work yourself to death."

"All right, all right," he said irritably. "I'll rest. I'll go to bed now."

"Take the tablets first."

He sighed. "Fine."

I raised a brow expectantly.

He glared at me for a moment and then went around his desk and pulled open a drawer. He removed a bottle of tablets, shook two from it. My teacup from this afternoon had not yet been cleared away. He picked it up from the corner of the desk and swallowed the tablets with a sip of cold tea.

"Satisfied?" he asked.

"You'll feel much better now," I said.

"I'll be useless for hours."

"I think the country will carry on long enough for you to get a bit of sleep," I said, my tone gentle.

He looked up at me and sighed. "I suppose they'll have to."

"Now, will you go lie down, or do I need to put you to bed as well?"

His eyes caught mine, and I flushed to the roots of my hair. It had been the sort of thing I would have said to my cousins, but I realized it could have a different interpretation given what had happened between us.

His lips parted then closed as he seemed to think better of what he was about to say. But then he went ahead and said it anyway. "As tempting as the idea is, I think you'd better go home now."

"Yes," I whispered. "I suppose I'd better."

"I'll see you out," he said.

We walked down the hallway and into the foyer. "Thank you for your assistance," he said. "I'll ring you up tomorrow when we learn something."

I nodded.

We stood there, looking at each other, and then I nodded toward the stairs. "Why don't you go up. Just so I can be sure you made it all right."

"I can manage the stairs," he said with poorly disguised impatience.

"Humor me."

He sighed again. "Good night, Electra."

"Good night. Sleep well."

He shot me a look and then turned to the stairs. I watched him as he made his way up, his posture as perfect as ever.

Major Ramsey had, upon our first acquaintance, seemed more machine than man to me. It was only gradually that he had begun to seem more human. He was not a man who easily revealed his vulnerabilities, and though I hated to see him in pain, I liked him better knowing that he wasn't invulnerable.

I left then, making my way down the front stairs and toward the car on the curb.

Before I reached it, however, the front door opened, and Noelle Edgemont stepped out onto the porch.

"Ellie," she called with a wave of her hand. "Wait a moment, will you?"

I turned back to her, worried something had happened to the major.

"What did you say to him?" Noelle asked when I reached her.

"What do you mean?"

"How did you get him to take his medicine and go to bed?"

I gave a little laugh. "Oh, I don't know. I just told him that he needed to do it."

Her brows rose. "I don't suppose you realize what you've accomplished. I've been arguing with him for a fortnight."

"He wasn't happy about it," I admitted. "But I think he's been hurting more than he likes to let on."

I didn't, of course, tell her he had been given several good blows to the ribs. That was his information to share, if he chose to.

She was watching me with an expression I couldn't interpret. It wasn't speculative, exactly, but there was something assessing in it.

"Will you come have tea with me again on Saturday?" she asked. "Since our lovely chat was interrupted today?"

I hesitated. I knew Major Ramsey didn't particularly approve of my growing friendship with his sister, but, after all, what would it hurt?

"I'd like that," I said.