Chapter Twenty-Four

T he ball was everything Owen disliked about society. People. People everywhere. He was introduced to so many of them he gave up trying to remember their names and contented himself with foolishly smiling and giving Ellis besotted looks. Let them see how much he loved her, he didn't care.

He was in love .

Sophia was in her element, sparkling like a diamond under the chandeliers, while Viscount Hawthorne chuckled and made up stories about the way in which his nephew and Ellis had first met. Owen wondered if he would be able to remember them next time he was asked, and then told himself it didn't matter. This was all show, all pretence, and once Sir Theo was captured they could go home to their real lives.

All the same, the thought of that "vile" man, as Ellis called him, made Owen anxious. Blake had said he had guards watching them, but Owen could not see them. Was that because they were very good at their jobs? He hoped so, because if they weren't, then it would be up to him alone to protect Ellis. And although he knew he would give his life for her, he wasn't at all sure it would be enough.

Owen was no marksman, and he was no soldier marching bravely into battle. He was an artist who drew pictures. No wonder he was feeling uneasy about his ability to save the life of the woman he loved.

"You have that look again, Lord Lyndhurst," Sophia's voice sounded in his ear, and he jumped. "I promise you are not getting your head chopped off tonight. Although I'm sure some people here would find it excellent entertainment."

"That does not say much for your friends," he said. He gave a surreptitious glance about him, to see if anyone had noticed his downcast expression. There was his uncle telling yet another version of their story, while Ellis was at his side, trying to smile. No, no one was looking at Owen.

"Are any of them my friends?" Sophia seemed to be asking a rhetorical question and changed the subject before he could think of a reply. Her dark eyes, so familiar and yet so different from the ones he knew, were fixed on his. "I was skeptical when my sister told me about you. I believed you to be a fortune hunter."

Was she really going to give him a lecture here, in the middle of a ball? "I am my uncle's heir," he reminded her stiffly. "I do not need a fortune. I have everything I want."

She cocked her head, as if she had discovered a new species of animal. "I believe you actually mean that. And you love Ellis, don't you?"

He felt his cheeks flush and rubbed at his chin to disguise the sensation of being stripped bare. "Yes," he said. "I love her with all my being."

Sophia watched him a moment more and then sighed. "You make me feel quite jealous," she said. "I don't know why. Because the thought of living in the country with not a party for miles would be the worst thing I could imagine."

Owen grinned. "And yet it is perfect for me. And Ellis, too."

"Yes, it is."

Owen repeated the conversation to Ellis early the next morning when the interminable ball was finally finished. They were climbing into Oldney's coach. Sophia had gone ahead with a friend, and although Owen suspected this was Blake's doing, he wasn't complaining when it came to spending time alone with Ellis.

The ball had been held at a country house in Hampstead and now they had to cross the heath to return home. Until now he had thought nothing much of it. But as they rumbled into the darkness, only the moon and the coach lanterns to show them the way, he realized what a perfect place this was for an ambush.

Ellis smiled at the thought of her sister being jealous of herself and Owen.

"She is unhappy," she said. "At least Archie was a lovely man, even if he would have preferred to marry Elijah. Sophia is stuck with Oldney, and he is horrible."

"I am yet to meet him," Owen admitted. "Why wasn't he there tonight?"

"He was. He was in the card room the whole time. He has no interest in dancing. At least he has no interest in dancing with his wife."

Owen reached for her hand. Her glove was a barrier between their bare skin, and he began to peel the silk from her, so that he could kiss her fingertips, one by one.

"I do love you," she said, her voice low and particularly husky. "Do you think we could ask the coachman to stop for a little while, so that we can sneak off into the trees?"

"When we are married, we won't have to sneak off," he said, and then stopped. Suddenly he felt as if his euphoria had popped like a bubble. "That is... will you still want to marry me when this is over?"

She laughed. "I've wanted to marry you since I first saw you," she declared.

Just as a gunshot broke through their cozy moment. Another followed, loud and frightening, and so close he was sure he could smell the gunpowder.

Ellis cried out, and a man appeared at the coach window. Owen saw the shape of him, his face covered with a kerchief, and the raised pistol. He didn't remember moving, but he must have, because suddenly he was lying across Ellis and she was screaming, and then there was a flash.

Being shot hurt. He had always imagined it would, just not this much. He lay, stunned, feeling the warm blood soaking into his jacket, and the world around him becoming strangely blurry. Like a nicely rendered chiaroscuro. Ellis was calling his name, her hands pressing on him as she tried to staunch the bleeding.

He groaned. There was movement outside the coach and then shouting. He supposed that was Blake's men tackling the culprit. For a moment he wondered if this was just an ordinary, everyday highwayman, and how that might upset Blake's carefully laid plans, and he heard himself chuckle.

Ellis cried out. "Owen? Owen! Oh, help, he's been shot! He's delirious."

The coach had stopped now, and the door was flung open. Owen felt himself turned over and settled back on his seat. He was in a great deal of pain, but he asked if Ellis was unharmed, because that was more important.

"Yes, yes, you saved her life," Blake said impatiently, but Owen could hear the worry in his voice. "Ah," he added, after a moment of prodding and poking, "it went into your shoulder and out the other side. I don't think anything is broken, but the surgeon will see to you. He is somewhere about."

Blake, it seemed, had planned for every eventuality.

"Let me go!" The voice came from close by, and Ellis cried out in fear.

Owen tried to rally, gritting his teeth against the pain. "Is that him? Sir Theo?"

Blake's teeth flashed white. "Yes, we have him. Everything went exactly to plan."

Owen wanted to point out that him being shot wasn't part of the plan, but Sir Theo's voice came again.

"Let me go! I have done nothing wrong. Archie didn't even deserve to be duke. His marriage was a sham—lies, all lies! I am the rightful heir. I am the rightful—"

His desperate shouts stopped then quite suddenly, and Blake breathed a sigh of relief. "Lock him up," he ordered his men, before turning back to Owen. "Your lady love is safe, and you are a hero, Lord Lyndhurst. How does it feel? You will have invitations to every entertainment on offer for the remainder of the Season."

Owen groaned. What did it say about him that the idea of gadding about caused him more anguish than his wound?

Blake was gone, his presence replaced by the surgeon, who preceded to examine him. Owen tried to be stoically silent, but it hurt a great deal and by the end he felt rather faint. At least the bullet had not broken any bones or hit anything life ending, and once it was cleaned and bandaged, he would feel more the thing.

The coach began to move again, slowly, for which he was grateful.

"My poor, brave love." He felt a gentle hand smoothing back his hair, and a soft kiss on his brow. "Never mind, we can go home as soon as you are well enough."

Owen smiled. Then opened his eyes. "What of the marriage ceremony?"

Ellis was close to him, and he could see the dried streaks of tears on her cheeks. "I think Sophia wants us to marry here," she said. "I feel I should agree. She has been good to us, and I have a lot to make up for."

Owen didn't ask what that meant, he was happy just to allow Ellis to stroke him and kiss him. Sir Theo was dealt with, and Ellis was safe. Anything else could wait.