Thank God…thank God her sister wasn’t dead, she thought dully, a warm wetness seeping inside her sleeve and trickling from her limp fingers.
She blinked at the faces suddenly appearing above her. Estelle, weeping hysterically, an ashen Oliver Trelawny, and Donovan—oh, Lord, he was safe, too. But it was the face hovering closest that made her try and reach up to touch him.
“Adam…I called out to you, but you didn’t stop. Didn’t you hear me?”
“Don’t speak, Linette, save your strength,” came his hoarse voice, then a ripping sound so close to her ear. She felt cool air upon her burning shoulder, and still that warm dampness and a thick metallic smell that seemed to envelop her.
“I…I didn’t mean to hurt you, Adam. You’re not in London…you’re here. Here…”
Alarmed voicesswelled around her, but they seemed to recede as Linette stared up at the sky. So blue, so blue…until everything slowly, oh so slowly, became dark.
***
“Thank God the shot went straight through. Oh, Donovan…”
He didn’t speak, but simply held Corie as she sobbed against him. He had scarcely ever heard her cry, his indomitable, strong-willed wife, though there had never been a better timefor tears.
Tears of gratitude. Tears of heartache and overwhelming anxiety about what the days ahead might bring.
Linette had lost a great amount of blood and remained unconscious, with Dr. Whitaker—no, Adam—refusing to leave her bedside.
Donovan would never think of him as Dr. Whitaker again, this man who had done everything he knew to help Linette survive the long hours since she’d been wounded.
This man who had wept late in the night when he’d thought he was alone for a few moments, Donovan standing outside the door to Linette’s room and not wanting to disturb him as Adam pleaded with her to live so they could be together.
His voice breaking as he told her that he loved her and asked her forgiveness for his foolish pride, and that he’d understood what she had told him when she lay bleedingupon the ground.
Then he’d begun to pray, the memory of his hoarse petition clouding Donovan’s eyes even now.
Please Lord, let her remain with me! Let me hear from her lips that I’m the man she’s dreamed of…
Donovan sighed heavily as Corie’s sobs subsided.
He knew she cried, too, because he’d told her that she must take the children and Estelle to Arundale Hall without him. He would followwith Linette as soon as she was well enough to travel…if she became well.
It grieved him more than he cared to admit that her hold right now on life was tenuous at best. He’d seen enough wartime injuries to know that a severe loss of blood had consigned even the strongest and hardiest of men to their graves. Damnation, if only he had shot that bastard before he fired his weapon at Linette!
Corie must have felt him grow tense because she lifted her tear-filled eyes to him.
“My love, it’s not your fault! You got there as soon as you could…even left the horses further away so those terrible men had no idea you and the others had surrounded the cottage. You heard Estelle. The last thing she heard before she fainted was that they intended to harm us! You and me and maybe our children—andthen to take Linette and Estelle with them—”
“Yes, it’s terrible, all of it.” Donovan pulled her fiercely against him. “That’s why you must leave tomorrow morning. Those three are dead, may they rot in hell, but there might be more like them looking for the prince. You’ll be safer away from Porthleven. I’ve already sent a messenger with instructions that guards be hired to patrol the estate.They’ll be in place by the time you arrive.”
To his relief, Corie didn’t argue with him, but nodded against his chest. He fervently kissed the top of her head, determined to do anything he must to protect her and their family.
Even Corie’s father, heartbroken at what had happened to his beloved daughters, had asked for them to leave at once and to take Estelle, too, which Donovan had alreadydecided.
His usually so spirited sister-in-law might have been determined to stay with her father at the parsonage when they moved to Hampshire, but now she had readily agreed, this experience devastating her. And here she had just recovered from her own injuries…
“Enough,” Donovan said under his breath, wishing at that moment it had been anybody but a fugitive prince to rescue Estelle fromdrowning. Yet there was nothing to be done about it. The die had been cast that clearly had altered their lives—and right now,notfor the better.
“It’s almost supper, husband,” Corie murmured, so attuned to him that it seemed she could read his mind. “There is nothing to be done but to pray, and continue on. Would you see to Adam while I gather the children? I doubt he’ll want to join us, buthe hasn’t eaten a thing since yesterday…”
Her voice breaking, Corie didn’t wait for Donovan’s answer, but hastened from the library where they’d stood these long moments, just holding each other.
Meanwhile, Donovan couldn’t help thinking, Adam sat by the bedside of the woman he loved, not sleeping, not eating, and not knowing if she’d ever recover—
“God in heaven! How much can one man withstand?”Donovan yelled to the four walls, feeling wretchedly powerless to help Linette.
Yet there was something he could do to help Adam. If he was to focus all of his energy and attention on Linette, as he seemed determined to do, then he’d need another doctor to help him in the parish. He couldn’t do it all alone!
Donovan strode to his desk and sat down, reaching for pen and paper.
Guy’s Hospital,yes, that’s where Adam had received his medical training. If Donovan had anything to say about it, he would have another physician in Porthleven by the beginning of next week. In the meantime, he would ask Miss Biddle with her skill at nursing to help out if needed in the village. She’d been the one to tend to Squire Tanner, the poor man surviving his ordeal and thankfully returning home last nightwith no more than a dull headache.
And since he was already sending a messenger to London, who was this uncle of Adam’s, his benefactor? An administrator of the hospital would surely be able to uncover that information.
After all, the man had paid for Adam’s education so there must be some sentiment between them. Surely he would want to know what his nephew suffered. It was the least Donovancould do.
