[Previously: Cedric has won the duel, but as Lavinia begins to run towards him, there is the sound of a gun shot.]


"Cedric!" The scream was torn from her as, almost simultaneously with the sound of the shot, she watched him stiffen, and his eyes widen in shock. The moment seemed to last forever, and she had time to offer up every prayer she knew, until all at once his arms were around her again. Her world righted itself because Cedric was still in it.

"W-what h-happened?" she asked shakily, from the sanctuary of his embrace. "I thought you ... I thought you had been shot!"

"No ... I don't know. I-I felt a bullet go by my head ... I--! Are you all right?"

She nodded against his chest as she clung to him with all her strength. He moved within her arms and she moved with him, unwilling to separate herself from him even for a moment, until she realised that he was trying to find out what had happened. Only then did she loosen her grip on him. As one they turned to look back behind Cedric and saw Lucius lying face down on the verge of the road, a pistol clutched in his left hand. Hinkling was spreading the dead man's coat over the body as, from behind a nearby tree Davis stepped into view, smoke still issuing from the muzzle of his gun.

*

Cedric's incredulous gaze moved from one to another of the players in this drama that was unfolding, or more accurately, spinning out of his control right before his eyes. In rapid-fire succession, dozens of fragmented and half-formed thoughts raced through his mind. What had happened? How had Davis acquired a gun? Why had the man shot Lucius? What about Jacques?--he was supposed to be watching Davis. What could he do now? He was responsible for these men, and their actions. He couldn't let Davis be hanged for this! Surely the man had made a mistake ... a misjudgement. Cedric hadn't wanted to make this a killing affair. How was he going to handle this? And, most importantly, how could he keep Lavinia out of it?

He could see everyone turning to him, as if he would know just what to do but, at the moment, all he knew was that he had more questions than answers. Taking a shaky breath, he tried to get himself in hand, to force his tired, post-crisis brain to function but he was afraid that he was too worn out, too sore and too cold to think clearly. Davis was walking towards him. He had to say something.

"Davis ... I-I .... Why?"

That disjointed question seemed to have opened the gates, for suddenly several people were talking at him, and all at once.

"If I could have a moment, sir ...."

"I'm that sorry, Master Cedric. 'E--"

"You are very pale, mon coeur. Are you sure you are not hurt?"

"'Is lordship took me gun! Took it right out o' me 'and!"

"That's right, 'e did. I saw it, too!"

"I have something to tell you, Master Ce--m'lord, of the greatest importance, if I could just have a few moments--"

"Enough!"

This last bellow came from Jacques. Cedric watched in a kind of detached bemusement while his friend routed the group that had been closing in around him. In mere seconds he had the Kentham servants back at their posts and then turned his attention to Cedric himself, bundling him into the carriage and forcing him to sit down.

"You will do as I say, Cedric! You're cold and tired, and I'm going to make you sit here 'til Doomsday, or until I'm through with you, whichever comes first. Now, sit!"

A tired chuckle was all that Cedric could manage at the moment, especially since he knew Jacques was right. It had already been a very long day, and it wasn't over yet. Davis was his man, and therefore his responsibility. Cedric knew he'd need all his wits about him if he were going to deal with what was yet to come. Sometimes, as he'd learned these past months in his guise as Cedric the Steward, the best course of action was to take no hasty overt action, so he sat and allowed Jacques and Lavinia to fuss over him. He did have to suppress another chuckle when Jacques produced, from one of his pockets, dry socks and a flask.

Davis was waiting respectfully, just outside the carriage and it struck Cedric, as he watched the man, that he didn't look the least bit concerned about his fate. The tentative thought that Davis didn't know what his fate might be occurred to Cedric only to be dismissed. His posture and his expression were both indicative of a man who was quite aware of the consequences of what he'd done, but who also had no fear that those same consequences could touch him. This was peculiar enough that Cedric's natural curiosity was piqued. So much so that, while he did what Jacques or Lavinia requested of him, Cedric also could not resist, as much as possible, looking out of the carriage at the waiting groom. During most of this time, Davis would glance toward the carriage from time to time, but his attention seemed to be focused mainly on the road, as if he were expecting someone. At one point, however, he looked up just as Cedric was watching him. Their eyes met, and Cedric knew that the other man had some news of great import to share with him.

"I'm fine now, Jacques," Cedric stated, rather more abruptly than he'd intended. He saw the shocked and slightly hurt look on the other man's face, and added more softly, "it grows late. We should finish up here and return Mademoiselle Lavinia to her father."

Jacques had been able to satisfy himself that Cedric's wound was not newly injured and had helped his master to re-don his boots, coat, and cloak, but Cedric sensed that any attempt by him to leave the carriage would result in an argument.

"I'm feeling better, Jacques. You were right to make me sit down earlier, but I'm warm now, feeling stronger, and I've got to decide what's best to do about ... my uncle." He smiled at his old friend and received a reluctant smile in return.

"Cedric, you should rest longer. I can do whatever you--." He stopped, recognising the expression on Cedric's face. It was as if the old Earl was looking back at him, and he knew it would be pointless to argue. "At least talk to Davis in here," Jacques temporised, "it was you who said the day is already long."

Trust Jacques to use his own words against him, Cedric thought with amused admiration. "Jacques, I appreciate your concern, but I will not ask Mademoiselle Lavinia to stand out in the cold while I sit in here, and what I have to say to Davis is something best said in private. I will be fine."

Jacques eyed him doubtfully, but knew he wasn't going to be able to persuade him against his chosen course of action. He shrugged and gave in, but still managed to get in the last word. "Very well, but first I will make sure that this Davis does not have another pistol concealed about his person. We have had enough unnecessary excitement for one day." Without waiting for approval, Jacques descended from the carriage.

Cedric turned to Lavinia who, after she had made certain he hadn't suffered any grievous effects from the duel, had been a silent observer of the interactions between the two men.

"I won't be long, Lavinia. Here," he retrieved the Earl's discarded travelling rug and draped it over her lap, "this will keep you warm until I am finished." He paused for a moment, taking her hand into his own. "Unlike my uncle, Davis could be hanged for what he did here today. I can't let that happen, not if I can do anything to prevent it. I suppose I'll have to get him out of the country somehow, and take the blame for this myself. I don't know, but ... please try not to worry, even though I can see that you are."

"I will try, Cedric, but," she gripped his hands tightly as she struggled to keep her voice under control, "I think that Lucius might yet succeed in keeping us apart, if you are accused of his murder. I love you, and want to be with you. I know you have ... obligations to the people who work for you, but I-I just want you to remember me, too."

"I never stop thinking of you, my dearest, most precious love. You are in my every waking thought," he brought her hands up to his lips and kissed them, "as well as living in my dreams. Trust me, Lavinia. I will do nothing to harm what we could have together."

She heard the sincerity in his words, and knew that he meant what he said. "Of course I trust you, Cedric." Leaning forward, she lightly kissed his lips then pulled her fingers from his and reminded him gently that he had a job to do.

"Merci, mademoiselle," he replied, smiling for her in a way that no one else had ever seen.