Logan nodded grimly. “Bring her into the galley. I can assess the damagebetter inthere.” Ridge preferred not to dwell on the factthatIsabella could havedamage.The amount of guilt he already felt was insurmountable.
Inside the galley, Logan cleared a spaceon a long wooden tableand instructed, “Lay her down.”He located a pair of shears and gently cut through the soaked material of her thigh.
As Logan pulled the edges apart to reveal the injury, Ridge had to glance away for a moment to gain his bearings. While he’d been faced with any number of casualties in his day, everything from bullet wounds to amputations, nothing disturbed him as much as seeing Isabella’s perfect, creamy skin marred by such a jagged, bloody tear.
“It’sbuta graze,” Logan murmured, and Ridge looked back to see him gently probing the wound. “But she appearsto have lost quite a bit of blood. I need to close it immediately. I’ll be back in a moment.”
As Logan left to gather the supplies he would need, Ridge held on to Isabella’s left hand and brought his forehead down until it rested on hers. “I’m so sorry, Isabella,” he whispered, feeling the sting of emotion risingupin his chest. “I swear that I’ll make it up to youif it’s the last thing I do on this earth.”
When he heard footsteps returning, he straightened, but he didn’t release her hand. As Logan set out the things he would need, Ridge swallowed over the lump in his throat and asked, “What can I do?”
Logan glanced up at him, noticing his grip on the lady’s hand. “Just be her support if she wakes up. This isn’t going to be pleasant.”
Ridge nodded and looked at Isabella as Logan splashed a bit of brandy on her thigh.In a flash, she was roused,a moan escapingher lips. When herdarkeyes opened once more, they were glassy and filled with pain. Ridge wanted nothing more than to ease hersuffering, wishing that thereweresome way that he could bring it into himself.
He held out his hand to Logan. “Give me that bottle.”
When his friend complied, Ridge slid an arm under Isabella’s head and held the bottle to her lips. “Drink, Isabella. It will help to ease your discomfort.”
She nodded and so he tilted the liquid toward her lips. She swallowed a sizable gulp and coughed, her chest expanding,no doubt the effectsof the alcohol’sfieryaftershock. As she began to breathe normally, Ridge asked gently, “How do you feel?”
“Warm, and…free, like I’m drifting on a cloud,” she sighed.
Ridge turned to Logan, the signal that he could begin.
However, the moment the needle pierced Isabella’s skin, she wincedand held her breath, butthenher eyes drifted closedagain.With unaccustomed tenderness, hebrushed her hair back from her forehead, not once releasing her hand.The entire procedure didn’t take more than a few minutes,but it might as well have been hours for sweat beaded Ridge’s brow and his heart was hammering the entire time.
When Logan was finished, hewounda strip of clean white linen over the wound and tied it with the skill of a master physician. He was highly adept with his surgical skills, even though he had never practiced as a doctor, at least, as far as Ridgewas aware.It was just another part of Logan’s history that he didn’t care todivulge.
“Now we just have to make sure infection doesn’t set in within the next week.” He eyed Ridge carefullyas he wiped his hands on a cloth. “But then, we’ll be back at Walmer shortly and I’m sure Lord Liverpool will see that she is transported back to Londontoher family,althoughnow that she isn’t truly married…”
Ridge gathered Isabella’s limp form into his arms and held her close to his chest. “Her reputation will be ruined,”he finished.
“Unfortunately, there’s nothing to be done for that,” Logan murmured. “It’s the way of theton.”
Ridge didn’t reply. He didn’t have to, because they both knew he spoke the truth.
***
Isabella awoke to a bright light.
Her first thought was that she was dead, but when she was able to lift her arm and shield her eyes form the glare, she realized that it was the sun shining through the curtains in her chamber.
She frowned and sat up, confused.By the looks of things, she was back in her rooms at Walmer Castle. The question was howhadshegottenthere?
She didn’t think she’d hit her head, but perhaps she had, for she certainly didn’t remember anything beyond passing out on the cot on theMalice.
Recalling her injury, she threw back the covers and lifted her nightrail to find that her leg was no longer bleeding, but wrapped in a clean white bandage. She gently probed the area and winced when she came in contact with the tender flesh, but it was a mild pain, and not as intense as before. So obviously, someone had doctored it, but again, that was just another unanswered question, although her cheeks warmed at the idea that it might have been Ridge.
When the doorto her roomopened, Isabella turned her head. She held her breath, half expecting Ridge to walk through, but she released it in a rush when she spied Claudia. Her maid saw her at the same moment and her face wasbecamewreathed in smiles. “My lady, you’re awake!” She rushed over and they embraced. “We were ever so worried when we found out Lord Wistenberry had kidnapped you! What a dastardly man if thereever was!” She shook her head,andher expression turned grim. “Is it true that you were never married?”
Isabella sighed. This was the part she’d been dreading. “I’m afraid so.” While there was no love lost between her and Simon,this meantthat her reputation was in tatters. No respectable door would be open to her in London after this. She didn’t even want to contemplate how her family would take the news.
Claudia took her hand in a friendly, comforting manner. “What will you do?”
Isabella glanced down at the coverlet. “I’m not sure yet. But I know I can’t go back to London. If my father will allow it, I’ll return to our estate in Hertfordshire.”
“And then what?”
