Alex sat propped up against Munro as I lifted my skirt and tore a length of muslin from my slip then folded it.
“Open his shirt,” I told Munro. I then pressed the folded muslin low on his stomach where our attacker had slashed him.
“Ye’ve a steady hand for such things,” Munro commented. “For a lady.”
I exchanged a look with Brodie as our coach lurched through late afternoon traffic toward our hotel. That dark gaze held mine.
“I had a good teacher.” I reminded him of the lessons he had given me before I set off on my first adventure. “And I’vehad a bit of practice,” I added as I recalled a cut or two that I’d bandaged for Brodie. However, nothing like this.
I took a deep breath and steadied my fingers as I tied the loose ends of his shirt across the thick bandage.
It seemed to take forever to reach our hotel. But in truth we returned rather quickly.
Brodie paid the driver as Munro assisted Alex from the coach. I smoothed my bloodied skirt and followed. Brodie closed the front of his jacket over his equally bloodied shirt.
“A bit too much of the drink,” Munro explained to the startled desk manager as they assisted Alex to the stairs. The manager merely nodded and smiled.
Out of sight of the front desk, Munro hoisted Alex over his shoulder much like a sack of grain, and continued up the stairs to the room they shared on the third floor. Brodie and I followed.
Munro deposited Alex on the bed in the adjacent chamber as I set aside my travel bag and then removed my hat and jacket.
“I will need the rest of that whisky from our room,” I said as I sat at the bed beside Alex. He was conscious although still very pale.
I untied the tail ends of his shirt and carefully lifted that impromptu bandage.
“I will need towels,” I told Munro. “And my shift from our room,” I told Brodie.
“Your shift?” Alex replied incredulously as he craned his neck to see the extent of the damage his knife-wielding attacker had caused as I removed makeshift bandage that had once been a portion of my slip.
His head fell back to the bed, the effort exhausting him after the loss of blood.
“Is she always like this?” he whispered.
“Aye,” Brodie replied with a look at me as he headed for our room. “Best get used to it.”
When he returned, I used a small towel from the bathroom to clean the blood from slash marks as best could be done.
“I will need his razor,” I told Munro. While Alex wore a neatly trimmed mustache, it was obvious he used a razor for the rest of his grooming.
His pale expression turned a bit green.
“What do you need my razor for?”
Munro had retrieved it from the bathroom and I proceeded to cut the chemise that Brodie had brought from our room into manageable strips for a new bandage.
“I’ve never worn a lady’s shift,” Alex quipped, remarkable under the circumstances.
“It looks quite charming on you,” I teased him right back as I doused one of the towels with the last of the whisky, then gently applied the towel to the three slash wounds.
Alex gasped and sucked in a deep breath of air. “Bloody hell! Beg your pardon, Miss Mikaela. Dear God, that hurts…”
“It’s quite all right,” I assured him. “I’ve heard far worse.”
“And she’s said far worse,” Brodie commented.
Alex looked up at me. “Am I going to die? If so, I do need to write a note for Lucy.”
How touching, I thought.
