“He saved my life!”
“Which is why he is still alive.”
“And which is whyIshall care for him. Papa, you should look after your wife—she seems in need of care as well.” She glanced at Mr. Helgate. “Please carry him to the bed. A doctor has been summoned.”
Mr. Helgate nodded, and after quickly binding the wound with a piece of cloth he’d torn from his own shirt, he broughtOliver to her bed under the cold gaze of her father. What a nerve-wracking predicament, but Louisa could be just as stubborn as he could. She glanced at the door, only to find the phantom, Miles, had disappeared again.
Her father sighed heavily and bent to pick up his wife, casting a warning glare at Mr. Helgate. “I’ll be back shortly.”
The moment he left, Mr. Helgate turned to Louisa with a hard face. “What happened? It’s a flesh wound, but he is out cold.”
Louisa stared at Oliver worriedly, noting the sweat forming on his brows. She curled her fingers through his. “I don’t know. He just collapsed.” She glanced at Mr. Helgate. “Will he be all right?”
“He’s sturdy, he’ll be fine. It’s your father I’m more worried about.”
“Louisa!” Leo rushed back into the room, slowing as he reached the bed. “Is your gardener going to die?”
“No, Leo,” Louisa said, her heart aching at his pinched features, and she repeated Mr. Helgate’s words, “He is sturdy, he’ll be fine. It’s our father I’m worried about more.”
“Leave Papa to me,” Leo announced bravely, yet at the same time rushed over to Mr. Helgate, clutching his jacket in a small fist. “Where is your friend?”
Mr. Helgate cast a quick look at the door. “He is not good with people, so he likes to keep to the shadows.”
Louisa’s gaze caught on the jewelry box disregarded on the floor and briefly left Oliver’s side to retrieve it. She set it aside when she caught sight of the blood coating the palms of her hands.
All this for what? A book? A ledger?
She cursed Camilla to perdition.
“What are you doing in Ashford?” she asked Mr. Helgate, desperate for something,anything, to distract herself from Oliver lying bloodied on her bed.
“We had some business here,” Mr. Helgate said. “Also, I had a feeling that the best time to take care of that business would be right after you left Brighton.”
Louisa didn’t ask any further. She’d rather not know.
A groan came from the bed. She smoothed Oliver’s furrowed brow. “Shall you stay?” she asked Helgate.
“He is not staying,” a sharp voice once more came from her father, who filled the doorway. “Neither is Mortimer.” His gaze had firmly settled on Mr. Helgate. “What I would like to know is how a man such as you is not only acquainted with my daughter, but also my son.”
Mr. Helgate curled his lip in annoyance. “I’m not in the mood to answer a question you already know the answer to.”
Louisa and Leo shared a look.
Leo lifted his chin. “I met Mr. Helgate in Brighton.”
Dear Lord, Leo! Can you say that without clutching at the man’s tailcoat?
“Brighton?” The duke’s face clouded over. “And when were you in Brighton? No, don’t answer that.” His gaze fell onto the man on the bed. “It all ties back to one man, does it not?”
“Papa.” Louisa inhaled a fortifying breath. “I know about your strife with Oliver’s family, but he is not his father. I am in love with him and shall not be apart from him.”
If his face had been stormy before, it now crackled with fury. “I forbid the match.”
Louisa crossed her arms over her chest. “I forbid you to forbid the match.”
His eyes narrowed. “I forbid you to forbid me to forbid the match.”
Louisa pinched the bridge of her nose.
