“Victor?” she asked. She could not rest until she saw him and was assured that he was well.
“I will send him to you.” The husband and wife quit the room, leaving Charlotte all alone and then Victor was there.
Relief swept over her when she looked into his green eyes and noted the lines about them were more defined. He was tired. There was darkness beneath. Concerned, Charlotte tried to lift her hand, to place it against his cheek, and offer comfort.
Victor grasped it and placed his lips against her knuckles. “Rest, Charlotte. All will be well,” he whispered as darkness descended.
Victorhadspentthelast day sitting by Charlotte’s bedside praying that she would awaken and that she didn’t develop an infection. Dr. Hornsby had warned that it was a possibility and that Victor must prepare himself. Hornsby had also said that Charlotte had suffered an injury that should have taken her life but it hadn’t.
“A miracle?” Marcus asked.
“I do not believe in miracles,” Hornsby had said. “I saw men die of minor injuries and others survive what should have been fatal. All I can do is my best to save the patients I treat.”
When Charlotte finally started to stir and her eyelids fluttered, as if she were to wake, Victor’s relief was so great that he was thankful he had been sitting. But, as he had promised Somerton, and because his very life could depend on what occurred next, he quit the room in search of the magistrate, leaving Lady Somerton behind. The impartial witness would attest to whatever Charlotte claimed had happened.
Charlotte had freed him of any suspicions and now he waited for her to wake again.
What if that had been her only time of consciousness? What if she worsened and he never got to speak to her again?
Victor quickly dismissed the thought. It had been over twenty-four hours since she had been shot. If she was going to develop a fever or succumb to her injuries, she would have done so by now. She just needed to recover, and he must have patience.
He just didn’t know what he was going to do about his sister, or his mother. His mother may not have had a hand in all the destruction Maria had caused, but she knew. She had known how Thompson died and approved of Maria’s actions to bring Victor back to Thornhill Park.
Charlotte moaned and Victor forgot all about his family and leaned closer to his wife, the only person who really mattered right now.
“You are still here?”
He chuckled. “Where else would I be?”
“I…” She sighed and licked her dry lips. He quickly poured her a glass of water and carefully lifted Charlotte so that she could drink.
“Thank you,” she whispered as he lay her back against the pillows.
Victor brushed the hair away from her face then leaned forward to kiss her brow.
Charlotte’s eyes fluttered closed and then open. “I am sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he insisted. “It is I who should beg forgiveness for not realizing how dangerous my sister had become.”
Charlotte frowned. “You need to know….”
“I know all that I need.” Victor assumed that she wished to tell him of their child, but he didn’t want her upset. She needed to heal.
“The babe,” she whispered as her eyes watered.
“I know, Charlotte. Callie told me. I am so very sorry.”
A tear leaked out of the corner of her eye and rolled down the side of her face.
“There will be more children, I promise.”
“Yes, you need—”
“—No. Iwantchildren with you. Not because I need an heir, or I covet your wealth. I want to have children with the woman I love if you will still have me.”
Charlotte frowned. “Have you?”
“My family has brought you nothing but heartache, and my sister murdered your father. I would not blame you if you wished to be rid of the lot of us.” There was nothing in her father’s Last Will and Testament that required that Charlotte remain married to him. She could beg him for a divorce, or simply walk away from him, her father’s dictates, and everything her father had acquired over his life and Victor would not blame her.
