Andrew, pouring cognac into a glass, paused with bottle held in midair.

“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.