‘I don’t know, really.’ Raising his hand, he cautiously felt the back of his head and groaned. Only then did I realise that he had an impressive bump back there. ‘It might have been only one. But if it was, hell, he must have been Goliath’s grandson. By George, was that brute strong!’
Bloody hell! Someone had really gone after him. This wasn’t just some stupid prank. This was real.
But…Captain Carter? He was the sweetest man I had ever met! In fact, he was about the only man I had met who deserved that adjective! What kind of despicable scum would go after him? Oh, if I ever got my hands on them…!
Trying my best to contain my rage (and my raging curiosity), I dashed into the kitchen and returned with a bottle of brandy and a cloth. At the sight of the bottle, the Captain’s face brightened considerably, and he held out his hand.
‘You’re a lifesaver, Miss Linton.’
‘Let’s wait and see if you still think that in a minute.’ Evading his hand, I opened the bottle and emptied a good part of the brandy onto the cloth. Without any ceremony I slapped it onto the Captain’s head and began to vigorously dab at the bloody gash.
‘Ouch! Ow! What are you doing?’
‘Cleaning your wound. We have to make sure it doesn’t get inflamed.’
‘Well - ow! - it feels pretty inflamed right now. That burns!’
‘It’s supposed to. Hold still.’
‘And then I’ll get to drink the rest of the bottle?’
I felt relieved. If he could still make comments like that, his head couldn’t have been too severely damaged. He was still the same Captain James Carter.
He waited - not patiently, but he did wait - until I had cleaned and wrapped his wound, and fetched a cold wet cloth for the bump on his head. Then, finally, I settled myself down in a chair across from him and fixed him with my best Ambrose-imitation stare.
‘Talk! What happened? Start from the beginning.’
‘The beginning…’ Uttering another groan, he pressed the cold cloth more firmly to his head. ‘Well, I suppose that would be when I went out for a drink with a few of my friends in the Bull’s Head Inn. It’s just down the road from here. I stepped out and was thinking, since I was in the area, I might come to visit you - when suddenly, someone grabbed me from behind.’
Instinctively, my fingers twitched, itching to reach out for a sharpened parasol. ‘Who was the son of a bachelor?’
‘I only wish I knew. Whoever it was, they pushed me into a dark alley, and I was just about to turn and show them that they’d picked the wrong man for a fight when they whacked me over the head, hard.’ Another groan. ‘Good Lord, he was fast! And strong as Atlas! But I could have lived with the blow to my head. The blow to my ego that came a second later when they pulled a sack over my head was more difficult to digest.’
I stared at him. ‘A sack? Over your head?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why would a thief or a robber-’
He grimaced. ‘Oh, this was no thief, Miss Linton. They were only after one thing: my pretty head on a platter. I don’t know why they didn’t just ram a knife between my ribs. As quick as they were, they could have managed. I suppose they had something more interesting planned for me than a simple, quick death.’
‘But you got away. You escaped.’
‘Barely.’ He pulled another face. ‘Somehow, I managed to twist around, even with those giant arms around me squeezing me half to death. I lashed out, and by pure dumb luck, hit the fellow in the face. I tore off the sack and ran down the alley without even looking back.’
‘Blast and double blast!’ Shaking my head, I stared at the marks on him, wondering what kind of beast would be able to inflict that kind of damage on a professional soldier. ‘So you have no idea who it was?’
For the first time since he had staggered into the house, the impish grin I knew and loved spread over the face of Captain James Carter.
‘Well…not entirely.’
My eyes narrowed. ‘What aren’t you telling me? Out with it!’
Slipping one hand into his pocket, the Captain pulled out something from his pocket. Metal and wood glinted in the candlelight. A moment later, he held something up between us.
‘I got hold of this while I was trying to land a blow,’ the Captain explained. I heard his voice as if from very, very far away. ‘Well, what do you say, Miss Linton? There can’t be very many of those in Newcastle.’
I swallowed, my eyes fixed on the object in his hand. ‘No, there can’t.’