“But she is losing blood. That can’t be—”
“The doctor is doing everything he can…to save her life,” she said gently.
I swallowed.
To save her life. She was dying.
“How bad? How bad is it? I have to see her.”
Miranda hesitated. “I’ll ask the doctor.”
“Will you do it now?” I asked, pleading with her. She looked at me and nodded, walking back inside.
I walked up and down the long hallway. I didn’t know how many minutes or hours it had been before Miranda came back outside to let me in. The doctor was washing his hands and glanced in my direction.
“She needs plenty of rest. I don’t want a parade of people in and out of this room. She has lost a lot of blood. She needs to be fed, later tonight. Some broth.” He dried his hands with a clean towel. “The word ‘rest’ is key here. I will be back in the morning to check on her.”
“Thank you, doctor. Will she…make it?”
The doctor paused, looking at his patient. “I won’t know until a few days have passed.”
Lucy escorted him out of the room, and Miranda tended to the dirty towels and water. I pulled up a chair and sat next to Ava, holding her hand. Both ladies in waiting noticed and looked at each other.
“We are going to take these downstairs and bring you up something to eat,” Lucy stated. I didn’t look at her, but shook my head.
“No, I’m not hungry.”
“My Lord, you will eat. You’ve been outside that door for hours. Miranda is going to wake your brother and get him to his room.”
“Good luck. He’ll come right in here,” I declared.
She chuckled. “You are probably right.”
Both ladies walked out of the room and left us alone. I knew I would only have a few moments of silence with her. Ava’s beautiful red hair was wet by her forehead, from the cloths the girls put on her. Her breathing was still shallow, which scared me. I faced many foes and dangerous situations, but nothing compared to this. The powerless feeling of not being able to control this ate at me.
I squeezed her hand and prayed. Prayed to whatever God or almighty power would listen to me.
George stumbled ungracefully through the door, half drunk and asleep.
“How is she?” he grumbled, stumbling to the bed.
“The doctor said she lost a lot of blood.”
“Blood?!”
“Your voice could wake up the dead, George, shut up,” I growled.
George lowered his voice. “What’s the verdict? When will she be able to get up?”
“We don’t know.”
“Well, I want to know!”
“I will personally escort you out of this damn room if you don’t shut up!” I promised, shooting him a look.
“I’m sorry,” George said. “I just don’t know how much more I can take.”
“I know, George. Everything is going to be all right. She survived one ordeal; she must make it through this one.”
“She will,” he agreed, as he pulled a chair up next to me and sat down.
“Father is taking care of the arrangements,” I replied, referring to Madelyn.
George cleared his throat. “I’m sure he’ll send her home. To be with her family.”
“Is that what you want?” I asked, looking at him.
“To be honest, I don’t care at this point. I’m numb. Numb to everything. I just want to fall asleep and not wake up until this is all over.”
“I don’t think enough brandy will wipe this out,” I replied.
“My God, I don’t know how you do it,” George said, rubbing his forehead with his fingers.
“Do what?”
“Handle this. Handle protecting everyone. And when something unexpected happens, that you can’t control, you can’t fix it. You just have to wait for whatever fate has planned.”
“I’m not handling this well,” I retorted. I wanted to punch something.
We sat with her for a while in silence, each lost in our own thoughts of the future and what laid ahead for us. Ava played a large part in both our lives; we wouldn’t survive her death.
Lucy returned as promised, with food. Two plates filled with cheeses, meats, and grapes. “Eat up, my Lord and Your Grace. You both need to keep your strength up.”
We ate some of their meal, talked about Ava, and then were issued back to our rooms by Lucy and Miranda. They promised to call for us if anything had changed. But everything changed now. I needed to get her out of here.
∞∞∞
I didn’t remember when I fell asleep, or how. I found myself on the floor, with half my pants off and hands out of my sleeves. I had drank heavily, I remembered that. I paced the room, tried to read, but to no avail. I more than likely passed out.
I quickly got dressed and washed my face, ignoring the raging headache I had. I told John to reschedule my meeting with the captain of the guard to later in the afternoon; I had to go check in on Ava, and was greeted with no news. Ava was still unconscious, and her lady’s maids were at her side all day and night, which gave me small comfort. I found George and asked him to conduct the investigation with me, to which he agreed quickly. He didn’t look like he slept well either.
“We questioned everyone,” John reported, when the three of us were back in my study. “One of the men noticed a young maid acting strangely and interrogated her thoroughly. She babbled on about how a well-dressed man approached her and threatened her family if she didn’t poison Lady Stratford.”
“And Lady Barlow?” I asked. John shook his head.
“She was caught in the crossfire, my Lord. Lady Barlow wasn’t supposed to be harmed.”
“Kill her,” George blurted out, directing our attention to him. George was upset, but I’d never heard him act so mercilessly before.
“George—”
“She took a life. She took the risk of getting caught. She was found out; now, she must pay.” George stood from his chair and walked out of the room, his word final. I sighed loudly.
“Hold off,” I ordered John. “He is upset; we’ll let him cool down.”
John bowed his head in acknowledgement and left the room. I felt emotionally drained, concerned with both Ava’s health and George’s sanity. George was normally so calm and collected, I knew he had reached his boiling point. I racked my brain, trying to think of how to make my brother’s life easier, but how could I? Until I killed the invisible men who terrorized my family, there was no rest or comfort.
A knock on the door sounded and I yelled for whoever it was to enter. I looked up to see a slim blonde enter my study wearing a dark blue dress, the sleeves around her upper arm and off her shoulders.
Sophia.
I groaned inwardly and felt my headache storm on.
“What is it?” I mumbled angrily. “I’m busy.”
“I’ve heard,” she replied softly. She walked to my desk and sat in one of the black leather armchairs. Concern masked her face and her true intentions of being here. “Is there something I can do to help?”
I raised a brow. “Oh, there is plenty.” Sophia leaned closer to the desk, exposing her pale breast.
“Anything,” she began. She looked at me as though I was going to say something she honestly could do to help. And she could, no doubt about it, but not in the way she would want.
“You can stop plotting to force me to marry you, for one.”
Sophia’s facial expression suddenly turned to one of anger, but she kept her composure in her tone.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she replied with a small smile.
“Then I will just do it my way,” I countered. She sat back in her chair and crossed her legs.
“And what would that be?”
“Don’t want to ruin the surprise.” I started organizing my papers across my desk. Sophia crossed her arms and stared daggers at me.
“I wouldn’t bother putting too much effort into it, my Lord, when you can put effort where it is welcomed,” she replied in a seductive tone. I didn’t bother to look up; she offered nothing, and I didn’t want anything she wanted to give.