Thank Heaven. She emerged from her hiding place, and he withdrew another key from his waistcoat, unlocking the gate.
“What about Bernard and Samuel?” she breathed.
“Father Durin is with them.” The prince’s voice held a note of strain, and he added, “I suspect they will join us shortly. Most of the thieves fled after the priest arrived with his weapons.”
Karl brought her inside the house, and the welcoming warmth of the interior surrounded her. Serena went to the fireplace, her body trembling more from fear than the cold.
The prince’s face tightened, and he suggested, “You should try to get some sleep. I’ll wait for the men to return. I doubt if the thieves will trouble us again.”
In his voice, she heard a slight edge of…something wrong. Serena turned to look at him. She studied the prince, her eyes passing over his hardened face, past his tight jaw and mouth, down to the great coat he wore.
There.
She moved forward, parting the edges of his coat before he could stop her. The prince’s upper arm was stained with blood. “You were shot,” she breathed, with horror. “How bad is it?”
“The bullet grazed me, nothing more. It’s just a little blood.”
Just a little? His shirt sleeve was turning red. Without waiting for him to argue, Serena gripped his hand and guided him upstairs into his bedchamber. Her heart was staggering in her chest, but she forced herself to behave in a calm manner.
“Sit down,” she commanded, “and let me look at it.” He started to protest, but she ignored him and forced him to sit on the bed. She found a pitcher on his dressing table and poured water from it into a basin. Then she searched through a few drawers until she found a handkerchief to tend his wound.
Karl sat down, his posture as rigid as stone. His eyes held pain, but he didn’t voice a single complaint. Serena helped him remove the coat, and she reached for the buttons of his waistcoat. Her fingers were shaking, and she fumbled with the small buttonholes.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I’m trying to hurry with these.”
“I don’t suppose you’ve had much experience unfastening buttons.”
She sent him an embarrassed look. “You’re right. But I’ll manage.” When she’d freed the last button, she loosened his shirt, and bade him to lift his arms. Though his face turned pained at the effort, Karl obeyed.
The sight of the raw, angry flesh sobered her. Though she’d never tended a bullet wound before, Serena had watched her maid Katarina treat her injuries in the past. Cold water had soothed her own pain, and so she touched a wet handkerchief to Karl’s skin. He flinched but didn’t make a sound while she tended him.
To her relief, the linen absorbed the blood, revealing only a shallow abrasion. “I don’t think it’s too bad,” she murmured, as she wiped the blood.
A strange sense of peace descended over her mind, pushing away the feelings of helplessness. The prince would heal, and she wasn’t going to be left alone.
Serena tore a strip from the bed sheets and held the damp handkerchief in place while she tightened the length around him. As she worked, she couldn’t help but notice his muscular chest. A light dusting of hair covered his pectorals, and between his ribs, his abdomen was firm.
A dryness caught in her throat, and her face warmed with modesty. Though she knew he needed help in wrapping the wound, it felt strange to touch a man’s bare skin. It was warmer than she’d expected, like heated stone.
She wondered what it would be like to see the rest of him. Though she’d seen statues and paintings before, she blushed to think of a fully naked man. If she’d eloped with him this afternoon, would this have been their wedding night? Her skin tightened against her clothing, and she imagined lying in bed with a man like Karl.
Though he was often cool with an overbearing demeanor, she couldn’t forget the way he’d kissed her. It was almost as if he couldn’t get enough of her, as if he craved her touch.
He stared at her now with interest. She remained in place after she’d tied off the bandage, wondering what to do now. Her breathing quickened, and his hands came to rest upon her waist. He looked tired and in pain, but in spite of his discomfort, there was no denying the need in his eyes.
“Is there anything I can get you for the pain? I could try to find some laudanum.” His close proximity made her feel uncertain, and Serena took a step away. Not because she thought he would hurt her, but because she was afraid of her response. With eachmoment she spent in his company, he was taking down her defenses. Right now, she couldn’t trust herself to be around him.
“I can bear the pain,” he said quietly. “Thank you for tending the wound.” He studied her, adding, “You were quite resourceful.”
She nodded, feeling suddenly shy by the compliment. The truth was, she’d surprised herself. Tending a wounded man was something she’d never done before, but she’d managed to hold back her fears.
Heat flooded her cheeks, and she offered, “Do you want me to help you put your shirt back on?” Though it was bloodstained, at least it would keep him somewhat warmer.
He nodded, and Serena lifted it over his head, guiding his arms back within the sleeves. She held out his waistcoat, but he only took it from her, not bothering to put it on. Hazel eyes stared into hers with an unfathomable expression. “Since you helped me, it seems only fair that I return the favor.”
Serena didn’t understand his meaning and sent him a questioning look.
“You’ve barely slept in two days,” the prince said. “I can see the weariness in your eyes.”
