Author's Note: First of all, sorry for the late update! My laptop crashed and all my data & information were gone as well! I completed this chapter ages ago, but I swear right when I finished typing, my laptop crashed and it's still at the repair shop. I typed out this chapter again, and I swear if it crashes again I will just kill myself. This is the best I can come up with at the moment without making you guys wait any longer. I am using my friend's laptop right now. I was halfway through the next chapter but everything is gone and ugh this sucks. Until I get my laptop and all my data back, I don't think I'll be updating on 2nd October but I'll do my best. Meanwhile, enjoy!


Early in the evening, when Gabriella was certain that Troy was away on an investigation, she helped Martha to turn the mattress on his bed and change the lining.

"Gabriella," Martha started, her cheeks bunching with an apologetic smile. "It's like this, you see. I can't stop my hands from bleeding since I scrubbed the coppers this afternoon."

"Your hands? Let me see them." Gabriella inhaled sharply as she saw Martha's hands, scabbed and bleeding. "My, go get some gloves and soak your hands in some glycerin and oil."

"What about Mr Bolton's mattress?"

"Never you mind about that. I'll take care of it by myself."

"But it's hard to turn without help -"

"You sit and soak your hands," Gabriella said, trying to sound stern. "Take care of them, or they'll be of no use to anyone tomorrow."

Martha smiled at her gratefully. "Gabriella, I... thank you so much. You're a love. A real love."

Gabriella waved the words away and hurried to clean Troy's bedroom before he returned. She stripped the linens from the huge bed and worked to turn the heavy mattress by herself, huffing and puffing. Finally, she managed to settle it into place and started smoothing the sheets and fluffing the pillows.

Gabriella then turned her attention to the pile of clothes on the chair. She draped the black silk tie over one arm and picked up the discarded white linen shirt.

A pleasant, faintly earthly scent floated to her nostrils, the smell of Troy permeating the thin fabric. Curious, Gabriella held the shirt up to her face, breathing in the fragrance of sweat and shaving soap along with the essence of a virile, healthy male. She had never found a man's scent so alluring. Despite her supposed love for Zeke, she had never really noticed such details about him. She had wanted a fairytale prince to sweep her off her feet, and Zeke had obligingly played the role until it no longer suited him.

The door opened.

Startled, Gabriella dropped the shirt and blanched guiltily. She was appalled to see Troy enter the room, clad in a striking navy blue suit and slacks. Humiliation flooded her. Oh, that he should have caught her sniffing and fondling his shirt!

But Troy's usual alertness seemed to have deserted him. In fact, his gaze was slightly unfocused, and Gabriella realised that he hadn't noticed what she was doing. Confounded, she wondered if he had been drinking. That was not like him at all, but it was the only possible reason for the unsteadiness of his gaze.

"You are back early from your investigation in Long Acre," she said. "I-I was just straightening your room."

He shook his head as if to clear it and approached her.

Gabriella backed up against the dresser, staring at him in growing concern. "Are you ill, sir?"

Troy reached her and clutched the dresser on either side of her. His face was bone-white, throwing his long lashes into startling relief. "We found the man we sought, hiding in a house," he said. A thick forelock fell over his pale, sweating forehead. "He climbed onto the roof... and jumped to the next house before Chad could catch him. I joined in the chase... couldn't let him get away."

"You were chasing a man on the rooftops?" Gabriella was horrified. "Bit that is dangerous! You could have been hurt."

"Actually..." Troy looked sheepish, his balance wavering. "When I reached him, he pulled a pistol from his coat."

"You were shot at?" Gabriella scanned his body frantically. "Did he hit you? Dear God -" She ran her hands down the front of his finely-tailored suit and found that the left side was cool and slippery. A stifled cry burst from her lips and her palm came away smeared with blood.

"It's just a scratch."

"Did you tell anyone?" Gabriella demanded, frantically pulling him towards the bed. "Have you sent for a doctor?"

"I can tend it myself," he said testily. "A mere scratch, as I said -" He grunted when Gabriella tugged the coat from his shoulders and down his arms.

"Lie down!" She was horrified by the amount of blood that had stained his shirt, leaving his entire left side soaked in a scarlet. Unbuttoning the garment, she lifted the fabric from his shoulder and gasped at the sight of an oozing bullet wound. "It is not a scratch, it is a *hole*. Don't you dare move. Why in God's name didn't you tell someone?"

"It is only a minor injury," he said grumpily.

Gabriella snatched the shirt from the previous day and pressed it firmly against the welling blood. Troy's breath hissed between his clenched teeth.

"You obstinate man," Gabriella said, stroking back the lock of hair that had adhered to his damp forehead. "You are not invulnerable, despite what you and everyone else at Bow Street seem to think! Hold this in place while I send for a doctor."

"Get Jacob Linley," he muttered. "Tell Jason to find him."

Gabriella dashed outside the room, shouting for help. The servants appeared in less than a minute, all of them appearing thunderstruck by the information that Troy has been wounded.

Jason scampered to locate the doctor, Taylor went in search of clean rags and linens, and Martha ran next door to get Chad.

Gabriella returned to Troy, her heart pounding in fear when she saw him lying so still on the bed. Gently she took his hand away from the wad of bloodstained cloth and applied more pressure to the wound. He made a roughly sound, his eyes slitting open.

"It's been years since the last time I was shot," he muttered. "Forgot how damn much it hurts."

Gabriella was overwhelmed with worry. "I hope it hurts," she said vehemently. "Perhaps that will teach you not to be running about on rooftops! What possessed you to do such a thing?"

Troy gave her a narrow-eyed glance. "For some reason the suspect didn't want to come down to the ground so that I could catch him easily."

"It was my impression that the runners are supposed to give chase," she replied tartly. "Whereas you are supposed to stay safe and tell them what to do."

"It doesn't always work that way."

Gabriella bit back another sharp reply and leaned over to unfasten his cuffs. "I'm going to remove your shirt. Do you think you can manage to pull your arm from the sleeve, or shall I fetch the scissors?"

Troy extended his arm in answer, and Gabriella drew carefully on the cuff. She tugged the shirt away from his good side, revealing his torso. He was muscular, as she had expected, his shoulders and chest well developed. Gabriella had never seen such an imposing masculine body. She felt her cheeks prickling with a flush as she leaned over him. Gently she slid her arm behind his neck. "I'll lift you up enough to pull the shirt away from your back."

"I can do it myself." His pain-hazed ocean eyes stared into hers, while his neck tightened against her arm.

"Let me do the work," she insisted, "or you will make the bleeding worse."

Slowly, she lifted the weight of his head and tugged the shirt from under him. Troy's breath puffed against her chin. "When I pictured being in bed with you," he muttered, "this was not how I envisioned it."

A surprised laugh caught in her throat. "I will overlook that remark, as you are no doubt delirious from loss of blood."

Gabriella was grateful for the appearance of Taylor, who came bearing a bowl of hot water and a pile of clean, folded cloths. Troy grumbled but did not move as the two women washed the bloodstains from his chest and throat.

Gabriella leaned over Troy and adjusted the pillow behind his head. The bullet could have easily pierced his heart, had the suspect's aim been any better. She was amazed by her reaction to the thought, the mixture of fear and anguish that engulfed her.

"I am fine," Troy said gruffly, somehow reading her unspoken thoughts. "I will be up and about in a day or two."

"Oh, no, you will not," she replied. "You will stay in this bed until you are completely well again - no matter what I must do to keep you here."

Gabriella was not aware that any sexual connection could be attached to her promise until she saw the sudden glint of mockery in Troy's eyes. She glared at him in silent warning, and he kept obligingly quiet, though his lips twisted in amusement. Nearby, Taylor developed a sudden interest in folding all the clean rags and cloths into tidy squares.

The tension in the room was broken by the welcome appearance of the doctor, Jacob Linley. He was lean and handsome, with gleaming blond hair and a ready smile. Gabriella had heard of him before, since he was often summoned to Bow Street when medical attentions or options were required. However, this was the first time she had actually seen Dr. Linley.

"Bolton," he said easily, hefting a weighty brown leather bag and setting it on the bedside chair. "It seems that you had a bit of an adventure this evening." He went immediately to see Troy, his attention focused on the wound. "Hmm. A bullet shot. How did it happen?"

Troy frowned slightly. "I joined in the pursuit of a murder suspect."

"He chased him across a rooftop," Gabriella added, unable to hold her silence.

Jacob turned towards her. His hazel eyes contained a friendly twinkle. "A rooftop, you say? Well, I think that Troy had better stay on the ground from now on, don't you?"

Gabriella responded with a vigorous nod.

"I presume you are Miss Montez, the assistant I have heard so much of? I admit that I thought the runners' rapturous descriptions of you were exaggerated. Now I see that they were in fact understating the case."

Before Gabriella could reply, Troy's sour voice came from the bed. "Are you going to prattle all evening, Linley, or are you going to remove this bullet?"

Jacob winked at Gabriella and then turned businesslike. "I'll need a large bowl of scalding-hot water, some good, strong soap, a pot of honey, and a glass of brandy. And I will require more light in here."

Gabriella hurried to fetch the required items, and Taylor brought lanterns and candles.

By the time Gabriella returned from the kitchen, the room was ablaze, as if it were in the afternoon. She arranged the hot water, soap, honey and brandy neatly on the table. Going to the bedside, she saw the doctor carefully wiping a few silver instruments with a felt cloth.

Jacob smiled at her obvious interest. "A wound is not as likely to turn putrid if it is kept clean, although no one can explain why this is so. Therefore, I keep my instruments and my hands as immaculate as possible."

"What is the honey for?"

"It makes an excellent wound dressing and seems to promote healing. It also keeps the tissue from sticking to the cloth when the dressing is changed."

"And the brandy?"

"I asked for that because I'm thirsty," Jacob replied cheerfully, and took an appreciative swallow of the vintage. "Now Miss Montez, after I wash my hands, I am going to probe for the bullet - an unpleasant procedure which will make Troy swear like a sailor. Would you like to wait in another room?"

"I do not," Gabriella said at once. "I wish to stay."

"Very well." Jacob picked up a long, slender probe and sat at the bedside. "Try to hold still," he warned Troy quietly. "If it becomes too uncomfortable, I can send for Chad to help hold you down -"

"I won't move," Troy assured him testily.

At the doctor's bidding, Gabriella held a lamp over his shoulder. She kept her gaze on Troy's taut face rather than on Jacob's diligent handiwork. The only sign of the pain he must have felt was an occasional twitch of a muscle in his cheek, or a slight catch of his breath as the probe dug further. Finally the implement clicked against the bullet, which had lodged against a bone.

"There it is," Jacob said calmly, a mist of perspiration causing his face to gleam. "It's a pity you have such strong constitution, Bolton. You'd done better to faint before I extract this thing."

"I never faint," Troy muttered. His gaze hunted for Gabriella's face, and she smiled reassuringly into his pain-darkened eyes.

"Miss Montez," Jacob murmured, "hold this probe exactly as it is positioned, and do not alter the angle."

"Yes, sir." She complied instantly, and he reached for a delicate two-pronged instrument that looked like a pair of pincers.

"Steady hands," he remarked admiringly, resuming possession of the probe. Deftly he began to extract the bullet. "And a pretty countenance to boot. If you ever tire of working at Bow Street, Miss Montez, I am going to hire you as my assistant."

Before Gabriella could reply, Troy interceded. "No," he growled. "She's mine." And with that, he promptly fainted, the inky sweep of his lashes fanning his pale cheeks.


Hopefully I can get the next chapter up soon, or I'll have to re-do the next chapter all over again fml -.- Review, favourite and follow please! I would really like to know what you guys think^^ and if you can spare the time, please follow my account iheartconfessionss ! Thanks for reading once again!