“Chiverton!” his mother called. “Why is everyone standing there?”
Embarrassing that his mother’s voice was the one thing that could break him from his frozen shock. Max whipped around and pointed directly at his butler. “Keep her away!”
His butler blinked, snapped his arms to his sides in a butler salute, then turned immediately to the side. “Your Grace, pray allow me to bring you some soothing tea. Things are about to get very upsetting, and you really shouldn’t be in the thick of it.”
Things wereaboutto get upsetting? Max looked to the lovely yellow counterpane that his mother had bought in Yorkshire. With barely a grunt of regret, he stripped it off the bed. The fabric would be soaked through in a moment, but he had to cover the mandarin with something. God, how much blood was in a body?
“Max, Mother is very distraught…” His sister’s voice wavered as she spoke. “Oh heavens. Oh… Oh…”
He looked up to see his sister’s blanched face as she stood in the doorway. Damnation, he hadn’t wanted her to see this. As fast as possible, he threw the coverlet over the body.
“Emmaline—” he began, but he didn’t know what he wanted to say. The two of them had always relied upon each other, but this… This was something he wanted to spare her.
She visibly started at her name, and then their gazes met across the room. “Is she…?”
“What?”
“How many b-bodies, Max?” she whispered.
It took him a moment to understand her question, but then his sluggish brain finally caught up. “She passed out.”
Guilt washed through him. He should have been worried about her. Hewasworried about her, but he’d never seen… He’d never…
“We need another room for her,” he said as he squatted down. He didn’t want to hurt Yihui as he lifted her up. He gathered her gently into his arms. This time he felt the dead weight of her and worry all but choked him.
“She can have my bed,” his sister said. “And, um, perhaps Kimberly could help?”
Lady Kimberly here? In this? Good God, no!
She must have read his expression because she shook her head. “With Miss…with the woman,” she said pointing to Miss Wong’s feet. “That doesn’t look good. And, um, Kimberly has helped with medical…um… things.” She swallowed and took a step forward, but Max stopped her. He didn’t want his sister one step closer to this disaster.
“Your room,” he said. He settled Yihui in his arms. He didn’t even know her full name! What was wrong with him? Engaged by royal decree and he didn’t know what to call her. These were the thoughts that circled through his head as he tried to distracthimself. She was covered in blood, and he was little better. Everything he wore would need to be burned.
He felt her breath against his neck and felt better. Then he saw her deformed feet in the mirror. Thank God she was insensate. She’d told him that they’d broken her feet, but somehow the reality of it was so much worse. He couldn’t imagine what she’d suffered on the boat. She had literally twisted a knife in the mandarin’s chest. What would push a person to do such a thing?
He straightened to his full height before he realized that three footmen stood in the doorway like frozen trees.
“Rees, bring water and towels to Emmaline’s bedroom. Mitchell, ask Lady Kimberly if she would assist. Atkins, send someone for a doctor and then find the Watch.”
Emmaline twisted around to stare at him. “The Watch? Must we? Half thetonis strolling outside. And the rest will be knocking within the hour!”
Did she think this could be hushed over quietly? “There are rules, Em. When a Chinese delegate dies in your bedroom, the rules must be followed!” And those rules included calling law enforcement. In London, that meant summoning the Watch, as they were the ones who policed the city.
She nodded as she backed out down the hallway. “Of course,” she muttered half to herself, half to him. “You’re right, of course. We must do this properly.”
As if there were a proper way to handle this!
He cradled Yihui close, taking care as he maneuvered her out of the bedroom. He didn’t want to bang her feet and, truthfully, he had no idea if she had other injuries. What had she suffered?
He settled her head against his shoulder. Tenderness suffused him. He grabbed onto that emotion. He needed it as a buffer against the ugly feelings still roiling within him. Better tomake sure she was properly cared for than allow guilt and horror to drown him.
A few more steps, and he was inside Emmaline’s bedroom. Then he lay Yihui down gently, wincing as he saw blood smear across the rose counterpane. He adjusted her head on the pillow and gently tugged her black hair aside. Long thick strands, silky soft against the linen. She must have discarded her beaded headpiece when she washed away the make-up.
There was blood on her skin now, a dark smear that he tried to wipe away with his handkerchief. It didn’t work because there was blood on his own hands, smears on his white handkerchief, and…
He swallowed and shoved those thoughts aside. She was a beautiful woman, he realized. Her face was a well-formed oval, her nose nicely rounded at the tip, and her mouth had a sweet bow shape magnified by the red paint still on her lips. She had been sorely used, and he vowed to do everything in his power to see that she was taken care of going forward.
He didn’t examine this overwhelming vow. He needed it to focus his thoughts. He was her rescuer from a horrendous situation. That was a noble role for him, one that fit his youthful fantasies, where he’d been a pirate captain rescuing a Chinese princess. Indeed, it gave him the energy to face the next few hours. He was no longer the victim of international politics and a prince’s whims. He was an active participant in the world around him. One who was determined to protect an innocent girl now under his care.
