Amelia nodded, her hand tightening around his in apology.
“I’ve heard enough of this nonsense,” Aunt Ruth said. “I will be returning with a proper doctor. Dear nephew, you are far more ill than you would have us believe. I raised you like my own, and I know when the two of you are being dishonest.”
Amelia got to her feet and stood before her aunt. “Do not, for one second, think that we believe you care for us and this family. You did not raise us, you are not our mother. What you did was spend years of my childhood trying to coerce me into marrying your son. You’re nothing but a greedy witch, and you would do anything to get what you want!”
In a blink, her aunt slapped her across the face. The slap stung, but Amelia was more surprised than hurt. She stared at her aunt, fury building, fists clenching as the urge to strike the woman back surged, but the immediate uproar prevented any action from her. Sam was yelling threats, and Graham charged in like bull. Even Nelson shouted in shock at his mother. He took his mother by the shoulders and dragged her toward the door.
“We’ll return with a doctor,” Nelson warned. “I don’t believe a bruised rib is the cause of your sickness.”
“Get out!” Sam bellowed. His voice hitched at the end, and Amelia turned to him. His face rapidly drained of color, and he fell back on the bed.
“Sam!” Amelia screamed. She and Graham were at his side at once. Her brother’s gaze flicked back and forth between them, but he did not speak.
“Fetch Dr. Bradley,” Graham said to Petrov.
Petrov was at the door, trying to herd Aunt Ruth and Nelson out, but they stood there watching Sam with rapt attention.
“Sam, just rest now. It’s all right,” Amelia cried, sobs slicing at her throat. His hand was cold in hers, and Amelia just knew his life was draining from him, right before her eyes. “Sam, please. Stay with me.”
“Just as I suspected, mother,” Nelson said. “There is much more to his illness than a fall. We’ll return once he has passed.”
Amelia glared at them with the promise of murder, and they faded into the hall. “Do something!” she screamed, but not to anyone specifically. She just needed someone—anyone—to save her brother.
Graham tore down the coverlet and lifted Sam’s shirt. He pressed down on Sam’s side.
“What are you doing?” Amelia cried.
“When a wound is bleeding you apply pressure. I don’t know what else to do,” his voice broke. “His wound is inside. I don’t know what to do.”
He looked at her, haunted, and every bit as helpless as she was. But even if the worst happened and all her fears came true, she would never be more grateful for Graham than she was right now. He’d stay with her. Through everything. He’d fight the whole world to protect the people he loved. To keep them safe, he’d stand as immovable as a mountain. He was the greatest man she knew and the only one who loved Sam as much as she did.
But it was more than that now. He was the only one who would loveheras much as Sam did. She knew it. He’d give everything of himself to the woman he loved, and she wanted to be that woman. Amelia wanted to be the one to give him the fierce love he deserved, to be worthy of that honor.
An invisible hand squeezed her throat, and she swallowed hard. “Where is Dr. Bradley?” She touched her brother’s cheek. His eyes were closed and his breathing was too fast, but he was still here. Maybe this wasn’t the end, just a step back. He’d sleep and then he’d be well again. Tears welled over her eyes, and she touched her forehead to her brother’s.
“I will still fight Death for you,” Amelia swore. “I’m not giving up. We beat him once. We can do it again. Fight with me, Sam. Fight hard. I want you there when we marry. I want you to walk me down the aisle and entrust my wellbeing to Graham. Do you hear me, Sam?”
Dr. Bradley entered. He must have already been in the house for his regular visit to have arrived so quickly. “What happened?”
Amelia wiped away her tears. “He was well, talking, eating, but then there was an argument with family, and he collapsed.” As Dr. Bradley started to examine him, Amelia stepped back.
“What are you doing?” he said to Graham.
“Instinct tells me to push on the spot that is bleeding. I don’t know why.”
Dr. Bradley frowned at him. “Curious.”
“What do we do?” Amelia asked.
He sighed. “My lady... I fear there is nothing we can do. I warned you this was always a possibility.”
Amelia fell to her knees. Graham wanted to come to her—she could see it in his eyes—but Amelia shook her head. “Don’t stop. You may be the only thing keeping him alive.”
“Mr. Blakewood, I’ve been communicating with a colleague about his lordship. While theories exist, not much has been done in practice regarding surgical intervention for bleeding. To be frank, cadavers don’t bleed. However, two years ago, an American doctor successfully removed a tumor from a woman and she survived. Since then, there has been increasing interest, and he’s been traveling to further the knowledge.”
“What does that have to do with Alston?” Graham asked.
“Well, to remove the object, blood vessels would have to be ligated or the patient would exsanguinate.”
