“How long until we know the extent of the damage?” Oliver asked the surgeon.
“A few days at least, maybe a week. She has some nasty abrasions from the rope which will take some time to heal. Her voice, if it has not been too damaged, will still be hoarse for some time. She will have some trouble swallowing. The bloodshot eyes are from the pressure. They should also heal within a few days.”
“She seems to still have trouble breathing,” Oliver stated.
“Yes, she will be quite shallow of breath for a while, and the wheezing is also normal. I will, however, be keeping a close eye on her for the next twenty-four hours.”
“Thank you. I am glad you will be attending her.”
Lisbeth listened to the conversation but of course stayed silent even though she had a million of her own questions. Oliver smoothed her hair. It felt nice. It felt right to be in his arms. She had her eyes closed but was fully aware of where she was.
There was so much she wanted to say. Needed to say. But for now, she would have to be content to be in the embrace of the man she loved. He had come to save her. Did that mean he loved her? But what did it matter if he did?
Lisbeth’s eyes flickered and then opened. She saw the balloon rising high into the air through the window, saw Oliver looking down at her. Saw his concerned smile, and then felt his lips on her forehead again.
She took his hand in hers and squeezed it. He squeezed back. Her throat hurt and her head hurt. In fact, all of her hurt and she was so very, very tired. She was glad she had been able to see the balloon had gained its freedom and was even now rising higher and higher into the murky gray sky. She was glad she’d had Oliver with her when she saw it. She only wished she had the energy to lift her hand and touch his face. That she had enough breath to tell him how much she loved him.
She closed her eyes again and let the sway of the carriage and the whispered tones of Oliver and the surgeon soothe her.
“Tomorrow,” Oliver whispered into her ear, “all will know of your innocence, Lisbeth. I will make sure of it.” Oliver’s voice had an edge of determination in it. She tried to smile but it hurt too much so she just squeezed his hand again and was happy when he gathered her closer to his chest so she could hear his heart.
Chapter Nineteen
Lisbeth woke witha start, images of Dalmere looming above her filled her mind, his eyes filled with hatred and murderous intent. Frantic, she swept her gaze around and saw, except for the many vases overflowing with a profusion of flowers of all sorts and colors, that her bedroom was empty.
Relief washed over her as she drew in a breath. Every attempt she made at swallowing had agony ripping through her. It felt like the silk rope of the supper tent still surrounded her throat, still constricted her breathing. Still tried to steal the life from her.
Oliver!
She wanted to scream out his name, have him rush to her, comfort her. Take her away from here. Her mouth remained silent, and her room remained empty. She pushed back the heavy covers and sat on the edge of the bed. Her bare toes dangled above the floor, her nightgown twisted and damp against her skin. She felt woozy and the room spun in a slow arc around her. Closing her eyes, she tried to calm the military tattoo drumming away in her chest.
She was fine.
She was alive.
She was in her room.
No need for such hysterics.
Lisbeth opened her eyes and looked out the window. It was dark and gloomy, as it had been every day this year. Only, thiswasn’t every day. This was the day she was finally free of the mantle ofmurderer.
The Black Raven had taken flight and flown away for good. She had completed her vow to reclaim her life. She should be overjoyed. So, why wasn’t she?
The clock chimed in the hall and Lisbeth jumped. The sharp intake of breath hurt so much she found she had to clutch her throat to stop the pain. What time was it? For the first time in years she had no idea. She had no schedule to guide her, no pocket-watch to remind with its incessant ticking.
It was strange, daunting, but at the same time it felt good. Her schedule had been a blessing and a burden. Now she was free of it, could she manage on her own? Take her days as they came and live without the deep-seated terror Nathaniel had implanted in her all those many horrible years ago?
If Oliver was by her side, she was sure she could do anything.
She heard the sound of singing gradually becoming louder. Marie. It made her smile. Her sister was here. She wasn’t alone, hadn’t been abandoned. Marie came into the room with a massive flower arrangement in front of her, still trilling like a songbird. Lisbeth had never had her sister’s talent for singing, not that it mattered, now. Then the thought struck her with the force of a runaway carriage. What if she never was able to talk again? What if this damage was permanent? The thought was as horrifying as it was shocking. Her fingers stroked gently over the bruised flesh of her throat. Dalmere may not have killed her, but he may still have damaged her forever.
“Oh, you’re awake!” Marie exclaimed when she turned from putting down the flowers. She rushed over to Lisbeth and hugged her fiercely. “Oh, my dearest. You look very pale. Would you like some water? Or lukewarm tea?”
Lisbeth made a T with her two index fingers. Marie smiled and briefly went out into the hall. Lisbeth let one tear escapedown her cheek before she wiped it away. Now was not the time to grieve for a voice she was not sure she had yet lost. When Marie returned it was with yet another vase of flowers. Lisbeth lifted a brow at her sister in question.
“Oh, these?” Marie read the little note attached. “These are from the Warrington hothouse in Sussex. Aren’t they stunning? They have the best hothouses in all of England. Flowers have been arriving all morning from all manner of people. I imagine there was many a shocked face reading the papers this day. Finally, everyone knows the truth, Lisbeth. You can finally get rid of the Black Raven for good.” Marie hugged her tightly, pulled back, smiled, and then hugged her again.
“In any case, I have decided not to read those awful scandal sheets ever again and only readLaBelle Assembléefrom now on. I won’t know any of the gossip, but I shall be very well dressed.” Marie twirled around and laughed. Lisbeth clapped her hands and stifled a laugh she knew would only bring her pain.
