“She has cut herself rather nastily,” Luke was saying. “She is also in shock.”
One of the hands on her shoulders moved down her back to behind her knees. The other circled her shoulders. Ashley lifted her into his arms.
“Try not to struggle, love,” he said, “or I may drop you. Luke, will you bring Anna to her room? We will have to see if a physician is needed. Hush, love. Shh.”
She was still wailing. She buried her face against Ashley’s neck as the concerned face of Major Cunningham came into view.
•••
Ashleyhad been in his study, writing some letters before breakfast. His pen had made an ugly squiggle across the page and spattered it with ink blots when he had heard her. The sounds had been chillingly inhuman, more like those of an animal in pain than of a woman. Yet he had known even before flinging back the door and striding out into the hall that it was Emmy.
“Shh, love. Shh,” he said to her as he carried her up the stairs, though he knew she could not hear him. The horrible wailing continued. Luke hurried ahead of them, presumably to fetch Anna. But it was not necessary. She was running down from the floor above, her eyes wide with alarm.
“Merciful heaven!” she exclaimed. “What has happened? Emmy! What has she done?”
“She has cut her hand,” Luke said, “and is deep in shock.” He hurried on ahead to open the door to Emily’s room.
Ashley set her down on the bed, but she clutched at him with renewed panic. The sounds had not abated at all.
“Hush, love,” he said, and heedless of his brother and sister-in-law, who were both in the room, he followed her down onto the bed and gathered her against him, rocking her, crooning to her.
“Emmy.” Anna’s voice was shaking. “Emmy, what happened?”
Luke was talking to a maid, for whom he must have rung or who had been sent up. He was directing her to bring warm water and cloths, soothing ointment and bandages. His voice, as one might have expected of Luke, sounded reassuringly firm and calm.
It was a raw and nasty cut, Ashley saw when he looked down at the hand that clutched his frock coat. And still bleeding. It must hurt like the devil, he thought. But she was too distraught even to feel the pain at the moment. He forced her head back from his chest and held her chin firmly.
“Emmy,” he said. Her eyes were clenched tightly shut. He kissed each in turn and then her mouth. “Emmy.”
Her eyes, when she opened them, were blank with terror. Oh God, and he had looked out of his window this morning, seen the weather, and assumed that she would not think of going out. He had not been there to watch over her.
“Hush, my love,” he said. “I have you safe. No one is going to harm you now. You see? Anna and Luke are here too.” Why was it that he could never seem to protect the women in his life?
The wailing stopped finally. She stared blankly at him and then looked over his shoulder at her sister and Luke.
“Emmy,” Anna said. “Oh, Emmy, what happened?”
“Set them down beside the bed,” Luke was instructing the maid. “Then you may leave.”
“I am going to let you go, love,” Ashley said, “and get up so that we can attend to your hand.”
Her eyes moved to it and stared blankly. He eased away from her and stood up beside the bed, but her hysteria did not return. Her face and even her lips were chalk white. She winced but did not make a sound when Anna spread a towel beside her and gently spread her hand on it.
“Oh, Emmy,” she said.
“It looks worse than it is,” Luke said, setting a hand on Anna’s shoulder. “When the blood is sponged away, my dear, you will see that ’tis no mortal wound.”
Anna was dabbing with a damp cloth about the long gash across the back of Emily’s hand.
“Emmy?” Ashley said when her eyes found him. “You fell?”
No, she had not fallen.
“You scraped it?” he asked. “Against a tree? A rock? A building?”
No. It suddenly occurred to him that a mere cut incurred in such a manner, even if rather a deep one and even given the amount of blood lost, would not have sent her into such deep shock anyway. Not Emmy.
“What happened?” he asked. “Can you tell me?”
