The Wyndham Legacy (Legacy 1)

Then the Duchess moaned and all of them froze.

27

“OH NO,” MARCUS said. “No, please, no.”

“Hold her, my lord!”

Marcus rose then to give himself more leverage. She was conscious enough to feel the awful pain of the needle as it went through her ripped flesh, and she was gasping with it, heaving with it, trying to escape it, trying to jerk away from him, soft cries erupting from her throat, then cries, tears running down her face. Badger tried to get brandy and laudanum down her throat but it was difficult. By the time it took effect, Doctor Raven would be through.

“Steady, Duchess, I know it hurts. Dear God, I know. Hold steady, love, just a moment longer.”

He kept talking. He had no idea if anything he said reached her, but it didn’t matter. It was as much for him as for her. It seemed an eternity, but then Doctor Raven said softly, “There, that’s the last stitch, now let me knot it off. All done now, my lord.”

Doctor Raven looked up. “Mr. Badger, I’m going to turn her head just a bit. Give her some more brandy laced with laudanum. Quickly now. Mr. Spears, the bascilicum powder, please. Miss Maggie, dampen that white cotton cloth and have it ready. Mr. Sampson, just stand there and make certain everyone does what I told him to do.”

Not many more minutes passed before her head fell back to the pillow. She was in a stupor, the pain, for the moment at least, far away from her. When he raised his hands from her body, he saw that he’d bruised her. He cursed.

“No, Marcus, stop it.” North clasped his arm and gently drew him away. “Let Maggie put her in a nightgown after Doctor Raven’s finished bandaging her. She’ll be all right, Marcus. She will, I know it. Now, you’ve been shot yourself. Doctor Raven, it’s now his lordship’s turn. No, Marcus, come away, she’ll be fine now.”

“How the bloody hell can you know anything?” Marcus, his rage now bubbling over, turned on his friend, shook his hand off, and yelled, “Damnation, she could die! Do you hear me, all of you? She could bloody well die because she tried to protect me. She saw a bullet crease my damned skull and what does she do? She throws herself hard against me, trying to cover me. Me! Curse her hide, why couldn’t she just yell at me to duck down? Why?”

“For the moment, my lord,” Doctor Raven said, “it is a question that is moot. Now, let me see that hand of yours. Ah, good, the bullet went through the fleshy part of your thumb. Now, your head, my lord.”

It was dim and shadowed in the bedchamber, only one candle lit beside the bed. She lay on her side, a pillow against her back to keep her steady and a pillow against her stomach and chest to keep her from rolling onto her belly. There was a light coverlet to her waist, nothing more. Her nightgown was soft white batiste, a school girl’s nightgown, a virgin’s nightgown, high-necked, small pearl buttons down the front, selected by him so they could get her out of it easily.

He rose and stretched, never looking away from her. She’d thrown herself at him, covering him as best she could. She hadn’t thought, hadn’t hesitated. Damn. If he’d had time, if only he’d had time, he could have thrown her facedown over his thighs, at least protected her that much, but everything had happened so quickly. Marcus thought back. There had been at least six shots. The bastard had used several pistols. There was no other way he’d have managed to fire in such rapid succession. Changing quickly from one gun to the next must have helped ruin his aim, thank God.

He leaned down and laid his right palm on her forehead. His left hand was bandaged. They’d both been lucky. The bullets that had struck them had gone clean through both of them. He cursed long and fluently. She was hot to the touch. She had the fever. He didn’t pause, pulled his dressing gown closed, and went swiftly from her bedchamber down the hall to where Doctor Raven was sleeping.

“It’s the fever,” he said only when the young man shook his blond head and looked up at him.

“I’ll be right there. Have Maggie fetch cold water and towels, my lord

. Do you have ice?”

“I’ll get Badger.”

They were all gathered around her again at two o’clock in the morning. She was moaning softly, her head thrashing back and forth on the pillow, tangling her hair around her face.

Marcus wanted to cry. He leaned down and began wiping her face with the cold cloth, almost too cold to the touch, what with the ice floating in the basin of water.

“Strip her down, my lord. If the fever gets too high, we’ll put her in a tub filled with cold water.” It was then he seemed to realize that there were five men in the room. He cleared his throat. “Please, gentlemen, leave us now. His lordship and I will see to her. Please, go.”

“No,” Badger said.

“No,” Spears said.

“Yes, do go, Badger, Spears,” Marcus said. He clapped his hand on his shoulder. “I’ll take care of her, you may be certain of that. No, don’t argue, Spears, I feel fine, just a bit clumsy with this bandaged hand, but I’ll manage.”

When they were alone, even Maggie gone from the bedchamber, Marcus unbuttoned the small pearls and stripped off her nightgown. The bandage was still white and dry.

“Good, the bleeding hasn’t started again,” said Doctor Raven.

“What’s your first name?”

“George.”

“All right, George, show me what to do.”