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 “Not the slightest, child,” he replied, shutting the box with a snap. “It has merely come as a slight surprise to me. It seems he has the luck this round.” He walked away again as another great bell-peal sounded through the house.

Andrew, pouring cognac into a glass, paused with bottle held in mid-air.

“Thunder and turf! We are like to be a party! Who now?” He set the glass down and lounged out of the room, bottle in hand. They heard him give an astonished cry and a loud laugh, and the next moment O’Hara strode into the room, booted and spurred and enveloped in a heavy surcoat. He came swiftly upon the little group about my lord and went down on one knee beside him. His eyes seemed to take in everyone at a glance. Then he looked across at Richard.

“Is he alive?”

Richard nodded, not meeting the hard, anxious gaze.

O’Hara bent over his friend.

“He has been wounded?”

Diana answered this.

“Only slightly, Sir Miles, but ’twas his shoulder again. He was tired after the ride—Mr. Carstares thinks he has fainted from exhaustion.”

O’Hara very gently slipped one arm beneath my lord’s shoulders and the other under his knees, rising with him as easily as if he were carrying a baby. He walked over to the couch, lowering his burden on to the cushions that Diana placed to receive him.

“He will be easier there,” he said, and looked across at her.

“Ye are quite safe, child?”

“Quite—quite He came just in time—and fought for me.” She dabbed openly at her eyes. “I—I love him so, Sir Miles—and now I hear that he is an Earl!” she sighed.

“Well, child, ’twill make no difference, I take it. I hope he’ll make ye happy.”

She smiled through her tears very confidently.