Lucas hefted Charlie by the shoulders, careful not to jostle him. The now-bloodied handkerchief fell to the floor, and Lucas ignored it.
Together they got Charlie out the door, knocking into the shoulders of several men who were making their entrance at the same time. Lucas grunted, shifting Charlie in his arms so as to avoid bumping into the men now retreating out the door. Jack jumped from the carriage to help them get him in then climbed in after him. Lucas barked orders to the footman to have a surgeon brought to the house.
“Are you the proprietor of this club?” someone asked Colin.
Not waiting to hear Colin’s response, Lucas pulled the door closed and pounded on the ceiling. The carriage jerked into motion.
***
The sun was high in the sky by the time the carriage pulled to a stop in front of the Cheltenham home. Charlie had opened his eyes once or twice during the drive but had quickly fallen back to unconsciousness each time. The blood from his head wound had not ceased, and Lucas had pulled off his cravat to staunch the flow.
Head wounds bled a lot. Lucas knew this. But the sight of the blood staining his hands was making his vision swim, not because he was queasy, but because this was hisbrother. His brother, who had asked Lucas to stay home with him. His brother, who had been hurt athisclub.
What had Charlie been doing at the club? Dash it all, how had this happened?
Lucas adjusted the cravat to continue to staunch the flow as the carriage slowed.
Lucas jumped out first, Jack silently joining him in lifting Charlie out and into the house. The door opened before they reached it, the butler having been watching from the window, and Lucas immediately barked orders for him to call the housekeeper and his parents.
“Lucas, what is going on?” Mother suddenly appeared in the doorway to the drawing room. Her eyes fell to Charlie, suspended between Lucas and Jack. “Good gracious, what happened?”
“He thought to play pugilist,” Lucas said, fear making his words harsh. This was his own fault. Had Charlie followed him to the club? Regardless, Lucas should have been more aware of his brother’s movements. He should have anticipated something like this. He should have been able to keep his one sibling safe.
“Bring him here,” Mother said. “Or, no... Have you called for a surgeon?”
“Yes. If the footman is fast enough, he should be here any minute. I’ve sent Drake for Mrs. Humphries; she should be here soon. We need to lie him down. Now.” He jerked his head to the drawing room doors.
Mother’s skin was pale and her eyes wide with fear as she scurried out of the way, pressing herself to the side so that the men could carry Charlie through. The front door opened and closed—if heaven was at all on their side, that would be the surgeon now.
Lucas and Jack laid Charlie on the rug, then Lucas jumped back to his feet. The footman was in the doorway, hesitancy in his expression.
“Well?” Lucas demanded of the man.
“The surgeon was not—he was not at home, my lord. His servant went for him but couldn’t say when he’d be back.”
Lucas’s hands lifted to run hands through his hair. His brother needed help now, not whenever a surgeon could be located. How much time would it take to track down another? None were in this part of town. He could dispatch several servants—someone would be bound to find someone.
“Lucas?” Mother’s voice—small, timid, and scared—came behind him. He couldn’t turn. He needed a plan before he could face her. He needed—
Lydia. Lydia would be able to help. She was but a few streets over. He could be there and back in a handful of minutes.
He looked directly at the footman awaiting his orders. “Send servants after Peak and Codstine.” He listed the names of the closest trusted surgeons in the area. The footman nodded and disappeared. Lucas turned to his mother. “I will be back within a quarter of an hour. I am going to get someone who can help.” His gaze landed on Charlie behind her. Still—eerily still. He clenched his jaw. “I will be back.” He bolted from the room, brushing past Drake and Mrs. Humphries, who’d just entered the hall.
When Lucas pulled open the door, however, he froze in place.
Miss Faraday stood there, hand raised as if about to knock, carriage waiting in the street behind her.
Lucas sent a prayer up. “Lydia,” he breathed.
Her eyes searched his face. “Is something the matter?”
“Charlie is hurt, he—”
She took a sharp breath. “Can I help?”
Lucas felt a flood of relief. “Yes. Please.”
“Come.” She pushed past him, following the noise into the drawing room. The transformation he’d seen twice before, where he could see her analyzing and taking over the situation, took place as she pulled off her gloves and flung them onto a chair. She sent a reassuring look to his mother and knelt beside Charlie on the rug.
