Home > The Scandal in Kissing an Heir (At the Kingsborough Ball #2)(38)

The Scandal in Kissing an Heir (At the Kingsborough Ball #2)(38)
Author: Sophie Barnes

“Let’s see the damage,” Hawkins muttered, still breathless from the ordeal of getting Daniel up the stairs and into bed.

With trembling fingers, Rebecca reached for one of the buttons on Daniel’s shirt, but as much as she tried, she couldn’t seem to push it through the buttonhole. She cursed herself for her inability to help. She was useless—utterly useless.

“Here, let me try,” Hawkins said, stepping closer and nudging her gently aside so he could gain access. She allowed him his request and watched silently as he unbuttoned the shirt and pulled the fabric aside. It caught, and he slowly eased it away from a patch of congealed blood, revealing a great deal more blood at Daniel’s side.

Rebecca felt ill and was relieved with the distraction of Laura’s arrival. “Molly will be up in just a moment with the water and the brandy,” she said, setting down a stack of towels and linens on the dresser. Rebecca noticed that she’d brought a small bottle with her as well. Laudanum. “In the meantime, let’s wipe away as much of that blood as possible so we can get a proper look at the wound.”

“If you can manage without me,” Hawkins said, “I’ll run and fetch the doctor.”

“A very good idea indeed,” Laura said as she grabbed one of the towels and walked across to the bed. “Thank you, Hawkins.”

But the valet had already exited the room, and a moment later, Rebecca heard the front door open and close. All she could do was stand there like a trembling fool while Laura wiped away the blood from Daniel’s wound. She should have been doing that, but she couldn’t seem to bring herself to move; it was as if her shoes had been nailed to the floor. She opened her mouth to say something instead, to ask if there was something that Laura might need, but all that came out was a strangled croak. What if he died? Good God, what if he died without knowing how much she loved him? She’d been through hell, losing her parents in that tragic fire at such a young age and then having to live under her aunt and uncle’s roof, yet none of that compared with what she felt as she stood there staring down at the face that had become so dear to her—a face that was meant to be filled with expressions of mischief and merriment but that now looked pale and somber. How was she to go on without him?

The door opened, admitting Molly, who was carrying a tray. Rebecca blinked, and suddenly the spell that had paralyzed her was broken. She wasn’t sure how it had happened, but she knew that she couldn’t just stand there and watch him die. She had to do something—she had to at least try. So she stepped forward and grabbed a fresh towel, dipped it into the hot water that Molly had brought and went across to Daniel. “Allow me,” she said to Laura, who quickly moved aside without question.

Using the wet towel, Rebecca managed to wipe away the majority of the blood, revealing a round wound a little smaller than a farthing. “He’s been shot,” she said. “The doctor will have to extract the lead ball. Would you please dip another towel in the brandy? I need to clean this.”

She wasn’t sure if it was Molly or Laura who handed her the towel. All she knew was that she was thankful that she had something to do, some way in which to busy herself until the doctor arrived. What was taking them so long?

“You need to put pressure on it now,” Laura said from somewhere close behind her. “Try to stop the bleeding.”

Rebecca nodded and started to bunch the towel into a tight wad that she then pressed against the wound. A groan escaped Daniel’s lips, and it was suddenly all too much. “Don’t leave me,” she whispered as the first tears started to fall. “Don’t you dare leave me. I love you, Daniel. Do you hear me? I love you so terribly much.”

But there was no response, just labored breathing as he lay there fighting for his life, oblivious, it would seem, to everything that was happening around him. With Laura’s help, Rebecca managed to spoon a bit of the laudanum into his mouth. It was the best she could do for him for now—that, and keeping the towel pressed firmly against his side.

It seemed like an eternity passed before she heard the front door open and close again, then a quick succession of footsteps on the stairs before the door opened and Hawkins entered the room. “I’ve brought Doctor Fenmore along.”

Rebecca looked up, bleary-eyed, to see an older gentleman striding toward her. “The lady of the house, I presume?” She nodded, and the doctor set down his bag next to the bed. “Pleased to meet you, though I do wish it had been under different circumstances. May I have a look?”

With a surge of relief, Rebecca nodded and moved aside so Fenmore could inspect Daniel more closely. He removed the towel, gently prodded the wound, waited a second and then turned to Rebecca. “As you are probably aware, your husband has been shot. He was lucky though—it appears as though the lead ball missed his organs. All in all, he should be able to make a fine recovery, but the ball will have to be removed, and that will be painful.”

Rebecca knew just how painful, for it was a procedure she’d recently gone through herself. She nodded. “I’ve given him some laudanum, just a teaspoonful, to help him through the worst of it.”

The doctor must have approved, because he didn’t admonish her for her actions; he just seated himself on the edge of the bed and opened up his bag, pulling out a few different items as he rummaged through it. Once he was done, he turned to Rebecca again. “If you wish to leave, now is the time.”

Leave? Not bloody likely.

“I’ll stay,” she said, stubborn and determined and fiercely loyal to the last.

“All right, then. I’ll need some better lighting. Perhaps you could . . .” He didn’t need to finish that sentence, for she’d already grabbed the closest oil lamp and was holding it over Daniel’s abdomen, illuminating the area that the doctor needed to work on. And so she remained for the next half hour, biting her tongue to stop herself from berating the doctor each time Daniel groaned in agony. Hawkins and Laura both offered to take her place a few times, but she shooed them away. This was her duty, her responsibility, her husband, and she would be damned if she failed him.

“And that’s it,” Doctor Fenmore said at last as he tied off the thread after removing the tiny lead ball and stitching up the hole. “He’ll need a fair amount of rest—a week in bed, I suspect—but I’m confident that he’ll be gallivanting about again after that. He’s young and strong. No need to worry. As for my fee . . .”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Rebecca said, both relieved and perplexed. “How much . . . ?”

“Ten pounds should do it,” he said as she reached for her reticule. She pulled out the money and handed it to him without hesitation, thankful for his assistance.

Once he’d left, Rebecca addressed her servants. “Thank you,” she said. “You were all very efficient, for which I am grateful. It’s late though, and I’m sure you must be tired. Why don’t you retire? I’ll ring if I need anything.”

None of them moved to leave, and Molly quietly said, “Cook is still in the kitchen. She’ll be happy to fix a plate for you, my lady. You need some sustenance after everything that’s happened, and you’ve had nothing since luncheon.”

Was that true? Rebecca reflected on the hours that had passed since eating her meal in the kitchen. She’d been worried senseless and hadn’t wanted her dinner when she’d been offered it. Aware of a growing ache in her belly, she realized she was suddenly quite ravenous. “Thank you, Molly. That would be greatly appreciated.”

Bobbing a curtsy, the maid headed for the door, pausing there just long enough to say, “If you don’t mind, my lady, I’d like to tell you that I think you were marvelous this evening. I would most likely have fainted had I been in your position.” And with a little nod and a bit of a smile, she left to see to the food.

“Yes,” Hawkins said, looking at Rebecca as if he was seeing her for the very first time. Unlike his master, he was not a man prone to smiling, and now was no exception. “You were both strong and courageous, more so than I would have expected from someone so young. Forgive me. I mean no offense. It’s just . . . well, most women would have cried and swooned, but you did not, and I admire you for it.” He paused, blinked and finally added, “Mr. Neville is lucky to have you.”

“Why, thank you, Hawkins,” Rebecca said. Her voice was unusually timid, and she decided that it was most likely because she wasn’t used to being praised and was feeling rather self-conscious as a result.

The valet bid her a good night and departed, leaving Rebecca alone with Laura and Daniel. “They’re right, you know,” Laura said. “You really were quite splendid.”

Rebecca gave a little shrug. “I only did my duty, and even then it wasn’t all that much or even that difficult, for that matter. Fenmore did most of the work, and if I hadn’t helped him by holding the lamp, then one of you would have done it instead.”

Laura shook her head. “Perhaps, but that doesn’t diminish your efforts, not to mention how calm you were. I must confess I’m quite impressed.”

Calm? Laura thought she’d been calm? Was she blind?

“I was anything but calm, Laura, I can assure you.”

“Well, if that is the case, then you hid your distress exceedingly well. Hawkins is right. Mr. Neville is incredibly lucky to have you.”

Glancing toward the sleeping form of her husband, Rebecca quietly murmured, “It is I who is lucky to have him.” She heard Laura sigh. Rebecca thought Laura might say something more, but she didn’t, and when Rebecca turned back to look at her, she saw that Laura had crossed to the door.

“Good night, my lady,” Laura said. “Try to rest, and please do call if you need anything.”

Rebecca nodded just as Molly returned with a tray, squeezing her way past Laura in the doorway. “There’s some beef with steamed carrots and gravy,” she said, placing the tray on one of the nightstands, “as well as a sponge pudding which I’m sure you’ll enjoy.”

As soon as Laura and Molly were gone and the door had closed behind them, Rebecca expelled a deep breath. She felt drained. Never in her life had she been so scared—terrified, really. Her gaze went to Daniel and she slowly approached the bed, pleased to see a bit of color in his cheeks but concerned by how still he looked. She placed her hand on his chest and almost sagged with relief when she felt the steady beat of his heart thumping against her palm. “Don’t you ever do that to me again,” she murmured as she leaned over and placed a gentle kiss upon his forehead, “for I daresay I won’t survive it.”

Straightening, she wiped away a tear with the heel of her hand and pulled a chair closer to the nightstand so she could eat her supper, her eyes fixed on Daniel’s face as she did so in case he happened to open his eyes. He did not, and as exhaustion overtook her and she finished her meal, Rebecca barely managed to lie down on the bed next to him before she fell fast asleep.

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