Chapter Twenty-One
“Kate?” Robert openedhis eyes.
“It’s all right, my love. The doctor is here.”
“Raise his head a little,” Doctor Innes instructed. “We shall have to dose his lordship with laudanum before I dig for the ball.”
“Isn’t that rather a lot, doctor?” Kate asked, after several spoonsful had been administered.
“Don’t want him waking and objecting to the procedure. Pain must be kept at bay. You shall need to give him more tonight, and every day for at least a week. Sleep is healing.”
With a wildly beating heart, Kate held Robert’s arm still as the forceps plunged deeply into the wound. He made no sound but slept deeply. So deeply, she feared for him.
When the ball clattered into the bowl, her worry eased a little, but she feared what the doctor might tell her. “Will my husband…be all right?”
“Infection is our enemy.” The doctor applied a bandage to the shoulder. “We shall have to see. Keep his lordship quiet with the laudanum, and as still as possible. I shall return tomorrow, my lady.”
Three days and long nights passed as Robert grew restless. He tossed and turned, muttering, never fully waking. His brow grew hot. Kate sponged him and continued the medicine, remaining at his side, covering him when he threw off his blankets. Exhausted, she napped on an uncomfortable padded chair. During the lonely daylight hours, she paced the room or hovered at his side, listening to the incoherent words he murmured. Several times, she woke from snatching a few hours’ sleep, believing he’d called her name, but when she went to him he said nothing more.
As night fell on the fourth day, she stood at the window and watched the sunset turn the sea aflame.Sometimes one doesn’t get a second chance to put things right.The possibility made her stiffen with fear and grow annoyed with herself.
On the fifth day, as she dozed beside Robert’s bed in the sunny warmth from the open window, a knock on the door brought her to her feet.
James entered. “The Parish constable, John Hawkshorne, is downstairs and wishes a word, my lady.”
Kate hurried down the stairs, wondering what news he brought. The solidly built man sporting a wiry brown beard waited with his hat in his hands. He bent his head low in a semblance of a bow. “Milady.”
“You have news for me, Mr. Hawkshorne?”
“Yes, milady. The scoundrel who shot ’is lordship was apprehended.”
“That is good news indeed. It was good of you to come and tell me. May I offer you a libation?”
“No, thank you, milady.”
“Please sit and tell me what happened.”
Mr. Hawkshorne eyed a gilt chair but shook his head. “’ow is his lordship? Is he getting better?”
“We are hopeful, Mr. Hawkshorne.”
“That is good news. Well, I just wanted to tell ye we got the mongrel, pardon the language, milady. I’ll be going along now.”
She walked with him to the door. “The man has been imprisoned?”
His eyes widened. “No, my lady. It’s dead, ’e is. We shot ’em when ’e tried to make a run for it.”
“Oh. Well, thank you for coming to tell me.”
He gave a broad smile, displaying tobacco-stained teeth. “Glad we got ’em, my lady. Any relation of the old marquess is respected ’ereabouts.”
Kate returned to Robert’s chamber, a little dismayed to find she wasn’t above relishing the fact that justice had been served. And the man would never attack another unfortunate traveler.
That afternoon, the doctor shook his head looking grim. “I think it wise to bleed him.”
“Surely he’s lost too much blood already!”
Doctor Innes’ eyebrows rose, and he stroked his large nose with a finger. “If you’re so against it, we might leave it awhile. The bullet doesn’t appear to have damaged any vital part. We can only hope the infection doesn’t kill him.”
