Matthew finally felt Alexander’s muscles relax under his fingers, and he released his best friend. Although he wanted to anxiously monitor Charlotte’s progress, Matthew knew she’d entered the coach so that he could stay with his patient. Shoving the anxiousness deep inside, Matthew turned to Richard. He pushed back the man’s clothing, making sure that the surgery site was completely exposed. As he worked, he explained the procedure in his most confident tone to the driver.
To Matthew’s utter relief, Charlotte appeared in his vision. She’d long since abandoned her ruined straw hat, and her normally perfectly curled hair hung in uneven clumps. Gone was the perfectSociety miss, and back again was the girl he’d known long ago. She was breathing hard but triumphantly. A smile stretched across her face as she thrust his converted shot pouch in his direction.
As he grasped the leather straps, her grin faltered. When her green eyes widened too, Matthew followed her gaze. Icy fists of shock pummeled him as he realized that the choker was still dangling from the secret pocket in his waistcoat and clearly visible. Quickly, he shoved it inside. When he glanced back up, her expression seemed normal, without a trace of suspicion.
“Are you really able to drain the blood from his lungs?” Charlotte asked.
The question made sense and even explained her reaction to handing him his tools. Had she even seen the necklace? He sorely hoped she hadn’t, because any knowledge of the choker’s existence placed her in extreme danger.
Chapter Twelve
Charlotte did not know what to make of Matthew Talbot. The mild-mannered fellow had suddenly transformed into a swashbuckling hero… or villain. Judging by the surprised exclamations Alexander had made when he’d witnessed Matthew’s battle against the masked men, he hadn’t realized the extent of his best friend’s skills either. Why would Matthew hide such talents, especially from Alexander?
When Charlotte had first popped her head through the door of the coach alongside her brother, horror had blasted through her at the sight of Matthew with a dagger to his throat. Despite her heart feeling caught in a sharp, jagged-edged trap, she’d helped her twin ready his pistols. Then she stood silently next to Alexander as he waited for an opening to shoot.
A thrill shuddered through Charlotte as she remembered how Matthew had transformed his body into a weapon. He brought down both men with ruthless proficiency. How had the scholarly Matthew become so lethal?
Charlotte wanted to believe that he’d come by his fighting prowess honestly, but she couldn’t forget the necklace that she’d glimpsed dangling from his pocket. The jewelry had definitely been a chain of pearl daisies with ruby centers. Charlotte had no doubt it was the choker that Lady Greenvale had described to her… and also to Matthew.
How had it come to be in his possession? Why were the miscreants after it, and who sent them? Was Matthew keeping it safe for his brother or had he stolen it from Hawley?
Even as questions about Matthew’s trustworthiness swirled in Charlotte’s head, she was watching him save a man’s life. She had thought of medicine as something staid, with powders administered, bed rest taken, and cool compresses laid on foreheads. She hadn’t considered the blood or the heart-wrenching sound of someone struggling to breathe.
Yet just as Matthew had with the horrible ruffians, he remained calm as he opened his bag. He withdrew a narrow rectangular case with silver-plated sides and a mother-of-pearl motif of wild animals carved in abalone on the front. Pushing back the lid, he retrieved a thumb lancet. Freeing the blade from its hinged tortoiseshell cover that also functioned as a handle, Matthew confidently gripped the instrument.
“Richard, I am going to make a cut between your ribs,” Matthew said, his voice competent and soothing. The coachman’s chin jerked slightly in assent. Matthew’s eyes flickered over to Alexander. “Hold him down in case he flinches. Lady Charlotte, do you see that silver tube peeking from my bag? Would you be so kind as to hand it to me when I request?”
“Yes.” She moved instantly into position, pleased that he’d included her without once questioning if her nerves could handle the sight of gore. Of course, with the young footman gone to fetch a wagon and a carriage, she was the only option. Still, she liked that Matthew automatically assumed her capable.
As soon as he drew his blade across the coachman’s flesh, blood began to well. Richard gritted his teeth, but Alexander held him firm. When Matthew asked for the metal implement, she immediately handed it to him. With supremely steady hands, Matthewpressed the tip into the wound he’d created and used the syringe at the end to pump out the pooled blood.
“Richard, I’m removing the build-up inside your chest,” Matthew continued to explain in a reassuring voice. “This particular device was invented in 1707, so there is no need to fear it. When I finish, I’ll insert a tube called a cannula that will continue to drain the fluids collecting around your lungs. It will make breathing easier, I promise.”
“Do you want me to find the can-cannula?” Charlotte asked as she stumbled over the unfamiliar word.
Matthew glanced quickly at her, surprised pleasure evident on his face. “Yes. That would be exceedingly helpful, Lady Charlotte. It will be flexible, not stiff like the apparatus I’m currently using.”
She beamed. She couldn’t help it. Even with her suspicions, she liked working beside Matthew, helping him in whatever small way to save a life.
It only took her a few moments to find the cannula in his neatly organized satchel. Gripping it in her hands, she moved near Matthew as she watched in rapt fascination as he worked. When he seemed satisfied with the amount of blood he’d extracted, he removed the silver tube.
“I’ll take it and clean it,” Charlotte offered.
“You do know it is dripping with blood, Lottie?” Alexander pointed out.
“If Dr. Talbot isn’t bothered by it, then neither am I,” Charlotte said.
Matthew said nothing. He just handed her the little pump and plucked the cannula from her hand. As he inserted it, Charlotte observed carefully. His fingers moved with such deliberate confidence that she felt spellbound.
“Here,” Alexander said, drawing her reluctant attention. Her brother held out his boot flask and a handkerchief. Waggling thealcohol, he next pressed it into her free hand along with the cloth. “Use these to clean the tool. I still can do it if you’d rather not.”
“No. I’m fine,” Charlotte said, busying herself with the task. By the time she’d finished, Richard’s breathing had returned to normal. Matthew was holding the man’s wrist, carefully checking his pulse. A satisfied expression crossed Matthew’s countenance as he eased back on his haunches. He looked around the road, as if reorientating himself to his surroundings.
“I can no longer wait,” Alexander suddenly announced. “How did you learn to fight like that?”
Charlotte stiffened. Carefully, she studied Matthew, watching if his expression betrayed anything. His facial muscles appeared to have frozen into almost comical stiffness.
He shrugged, but even that gesture seemed terribly wooden. “Here and there.”
